No More Playas

by Brenda Jackson

  He couldn’t remember the last time Mr. P had been so hard, or this overcome with anticipation and desperation for any woman. But he knew what was happening to him, as well as what was happening to his body, was totally out of his control. Carrie Montgomery was rocking his world in a way that it had never been rocked before.

  Damn, since he couldn’t sleep, he might as well get up and shave. He rolled out of bed, grabbed for his robe, and went into the adjoining bathroom. Later, upon returning to his bedroom, he heard the sound of soft footsteps outside of his door.

  His heart skipped a beat. He tightened the belt on his robe, shoved his hands into the pockets, and waited. Would she knock or just stand there a while undecided? He started to go to the door and then stopped. The decision had to be hers. No matter what, she had to believe that she could trust him and that he wouldn’t force her into doing anything she wasn’t ready for.

  When seconds ticked off, he inwardly stifled a groan. In his pockets his hands trembled, and sweat began forming on his forehead. He’d never been in such a bad way when it came to a woman. Sex was easy come, easy go. But with Carrie, things had to be handled another way.

  Connor shook his head. What had made him think something like that? Carrie was just another woman. Different, but just another one. He knew it was a lie the moment the thought had entered his mind. She wasn’t just another woman. If she had been, he wouldn’t be standing here getting tortured to death while he waited for her to make up her mind about him.

  And then, when he thought he couldn’t take it any more, he heard it, the soft knock on his bedroom door. Without wasting time, he crossed the room to open it.

  After knocking on the door, Carrie placed her fisted hand by her side. She hadn’t slept much during the night. All she had thought about was Connor. She had been lying in bed when she heard his shower going, and her mind had filled with visions of his naked body standing under the spray of water as it washed down on him.

  She had never actually made love to a man. She had come close a few times, but hadn’t been able to complete the task. It had always set off an alarm from her past. But after last night and the way Connor had kissed her and held her tenderly in his arms while he fed her, she had wanted him so bad that she had ached during the night. For once the thought of being with a man didn’t trigger bad memories.

  And although it felt strange, here she was—standing in front of the door to Connor’s room, ready to take a giant leap forward, and she knew why. She had fallen in love with him. She hadn’t meant for it to happen, but it had. Her feelings had been wavering on the edge, but last night when he had shown her such profound tenderness, she had gone and toppled over. She didn’t expect him to love her back . . . that’s not what she was after. But what she truly wanted more than anything was the chance to be intimate—share her heart, body, and soul—with the man who had captured her love, and not be afraid to do so.

  When she heard movement on the other side of the door she knew the day that she thought would never come had finally arrived. She was about to walk out of the darkness and into the light.

  Connor found Carrie standing in the doorway. She was barefoot and wearing a pair of satin jaguar print shorts with a matching midriff top that had lace-trimmed shoulder straps. His gaze scanned her from head to toe, coming to a stop at her belly and getting turned on by the sight of her navel.

  “Would you like to come in?” he asked huskily.

  She met his gaze. “Yes.”

  He took a step back as she came into the room. “I’m told this is where I should come for breakfast,” she whispered, a smile touching her lips. “But before you think of feeding me I might as well warn you that I don’t like anything over-easy.”

  Her simple teasing made the breath catch in the back of Connor’s throat. He decided not to scare her by saying with Mr. P nothing would be easy. Everything would definitely be hard. “Would you like to talk?” he asked after detecting her nervousness.

  “No, I don’t want to talk.”

  He covered the distance separating them, came to a stop in front of her. “Then what do you want?”

  She felt a quivering in the pit of her stomach. “I don’t know how good I’ll be at this since I haven’t done it since becoming a woman but...”

  Knowing whatever she asked for chances were that she would get it, she leaned up on tiptoe and whispered close to his ear. “I want you, Connor.”

  Connor felt himself stagger for a moment with the combination of Carrie’s words as well as the feel of the warmth of her sweet breath on the side of his face. When she took a step back his gaze dropped to her mouth, and he knew he could not refuse her anything, and as far as her not knowing just how good she’d be, he knew without a doubt that she would be as good as it could get.

  “If you come to bed with me,” he said, reaching out and releasing the straps of her top off her shoulders, “I’ll give you as much of me as you want. And,” he went on to add as a smile touched the corners of his lips. “I promise it won’t be over-easy.” Or over quickly, he thought further.

  He reached out, swung her up into his arms, and kissed her.

  For the second time in twenty-four hours, Carrie was swept off her feet. And this kiss, she reasoned, had to be insane, but she didn’t want to dwell on anything sane at the moment. She would take all the craziness Connor threw her way.

  He carried her across the room and then, without breaking the kiss, placed her on his bed and joined her there. He continued to stroke her tongue with his own, and she knew the moans she heard came from her throat and not his. His hot and demanding mouth, his oh-so-gentle and tender hands, were erasing the painful memories of the past and replacing them with new ones, welcoming, and everlasting ones. He was kissing her thoroughly, deeply, definitely getting a good taste of her, and she was getting a real good taste of him back.

  He released her mouth and tilted his head and looked at her, admiring her decision to move forward. He didn’t want to do anything that would make her regret that decision, and knew he had to tread cautiously. “I think we have on too many clothes. Do you have a problem with me removing them?” He continued to study her face to gauge her reaction.

  At that moment, Carrie didn’t have a problem with anything Connor might want to do. “No, you can remove them.”

  More than satisfied with her response, he rolled off the bed and began removing the belt to his robe. Seconds before his fingers were about to open his robe, he looked at her after noticing her watching him intently. “Are you sure seeing me without clothes won’t bother you?” he asked again to be certain.

  “Yes, I’m sure.” Nothing about him would bother her, she thought. Unless he decided not to quench the fire that was burning low in her belly. God help her if that were to happen. She shivered at the thought.

  “Are you cold?”

  She shook her head. “No, I’m not cold.”

  He didn’t remove his robe but let it hang open, and the first thing that caught her eye was his manhood, fully erect and springing forth from the dark curly hair covering his groin. The sight of it didn’t frighten her, but it did impress her. Connor Hargrove was a man very well endowed. He tossed his robe aside and, after retrieving a packet out of the nightstand next to the bed, slipped on a condom. Watching him prepare himself for her had to be the most erotic thing she’d ever seen, and it pushed her desire for him to another level—like it wasn’t high enough already. Everything about him was a total turn-on, including the rest of his physique: muscular, well toned, and perfectly proportioned.

  He placed one knee on the bed and reached out to remove her top. “Although it bothered me every time I saw it, I love your belly.” He leaned down and stroked the palms of his hands across her stomach, feeling it quiver. Then he slowly moved his hands upward to touch her breasts, kissing them, inclining closer and taking the tips in his mouth and sucking gently and then greedily, making her shiver in anticipation even more. Moments later he leaned back on his haunche
s to hook his thumbs in the waistband of her satin shorts and ease them down her legs.

  “If you love my belly, then why did it bother you to see it?” She saw his gaze centered on the curly thatch between her legs. He tossed her shorts aside, and she lay before him completely naked, exposed and getting wet by the minute.

  “Because,” he whispered, leaning down to her belly. “If I saw it, that meant others saw it, as well, and I can be a very possessive man.”

  She sucked in a quick breath when the tip of his warm tongue came into contact with the area surrounding her navel, lapping at the soft skin and licking it.

  Connor didn’t stop there.

  He slowly began kissing his way down her leg, caressing her ankle in his hand, massaging her calves, and then switching to the other leg to give it the same attention, and working his way back up until he reached her belly again. He knew what he wanted to do. It was something he had never done to a woman before, but he was driven to do it with her.

  “I want to brand you mine,” he said, his voice a deep growl.

  He dipped his head, flicking his tongue out to taste her there at her center, and Carrie went speechless. And when his tongue slid inside of her and began stroking her in a way that drove her mad with desire, insanely over the edge, she could only reach out, firmly grasp the sides of his head with her hands, and drown in ecstasy.

  Breathless moans poured forth from her throat, and with every sound his tongue seemed to thrust deeper.

  “Connor!”

  He continued kissing her as shivers of pleasure ripped down her spine, sending sensations escalating through all parts of her body. When he eased upward to kiss her mouth, she tasted herself on his lips. His mouth mated with hers relentlessly as tingles swept through her, over her, around her, leaving her quivering in the aftermath.

  He released her mouth and then recaptured it for another taste before finally pulling back. He began tracing the outlines of her lips with his fingers, burning with an intense need to become one with her. He watched her watch him, almost fearful to consider what she was thinking, taking into account her past history. Was she absolutely sure she was ready for the next part? “I won’t do anything that you’re not comfortable with doing, Carrie,” he decided to say softly. “And if you prefer, you can be on top.”

  Aware of what he was trying to do and knowing that not too many men would take the time to do so, Carrie didn’t think she could love him any more than she did at that very moment. “No, I don’t want to be on top,” she said softly. “I want for you to be on top to replace the face that haunts me.” She leaned up close to him—so close their foreheads almost touched when she whispered. “Give me new memories to cherish, Connor.”

  His heart suddenly felt full. “Sweetheart, I will.” And then he kissed her gently while simultaneously easing her down on her back. He slowly positioned his body over hers and seductively brushed the tip of his erection over her wet folds. When he saw that she had closed her eyes, he whispered, saying, “Open your eyes, Carrie. Look at me.”

  When she opened her eyes and looked up at him, he ran his hand down the length of her, inhaling deeply her scent as he fought for control. “I want you so much,” he whispered in a strained voice.

  After probing her entrance several times, he continued to hold her gaze and then with one smooth movement he buried himself inside of her, deep.

  She gasped when the entire length of him was sheathed tight inside of her, and almost drowned in the tenderness she saw in his eyes, and she knew that this moment would be forged in her heart and mind forever.

  Keeping his gaze locked on hers, Connor held his body immobile, allowing hers to adjust to the intrusion of his. Then when he thought that if he didn’t move he would go insane, his hands dipped beneath her hips to lift her closer to him. Parting her legs at the same time, he proceeded to lock their bodies together while savoring the scent of an aroused woman.

  “This,” he said in a voice heavy with need and desire, “is how I dreamed of us every night—with me inside of you this way and giving you pleasure. I’ve wanted you ever since I first laid eyes on you.”

  Carrie leaned forward and planted her hands on both sides of his face. She whispered, “And I’ve wanted you, too. Ever since I first saw you.”

  “Aw, hell.” Her words were like a match to a batch of explosives. His body suddenly ignited and he began to move, sliding inside of her on one stroke and sliding out of her on another; over and over again as he found the rhythm that would become passionately theirs. Connor was an accomplished lover, and with the skill he had acquired over the years, with his every thrust, he sent earth-shattering pleasure jolting through her, filling her again and again.

  His throaty growl rent the air when he felt Carrie’s body begin to explode, and knowing that he was buried thick and hard inside of her, every cell in his body ignited at the charged state of arousal that consumed him, and forced every erogenous zone in his body to come alive. It robbed him of all logical thought, except one. A determination to slay the demons associated with Carrie’s bad memories and replace them with something that could be beautiful and painless.

  So he did just that.

  A gigantic orgasm tore through him, electrifying every single nerve in his body. He thrust deeper, hissed between clenched teeth. He was coming in a way that he had never come before, and he couldn’t stop it if he tried. He groaned in sexual pleasure the same time Carrie did, and together their bodies became a unified sensation. They were carried unheedingly toward a sea of total and complete fulfillment.

  Connor and Carrie lay together in each other’s arms after their throes of pleasure. She wanted to lift up and look at the man who could make her lose herself so completely, but she didn’t have the strength to do so. She felt drained, weak, and spent. The man who lay beside her, who was holding her so tenderly in his arms, had thrown a net over her, and she couldn’t break free.

  And at the moment she didn’t want her freedom.

  She just wanted to lie there and savor the moment, the memories, and all the good sensations associated with what seemed to be a good sexual meltdown. Her climaxes, both of them, had been overpowering and had pulled her within their clutches so quickly, that she hadn’t been able to do anything but soar as high as she could while her body splintered into a thousand sensuous pieces.

  While living on the streets, she had known what men wanted and she had taken great pains not to be any one’s victim again. The other runaways hadn’t had any such hang-ups and had used sex either for profit or for kicks, a different kind of high. It was something strictly physical and had nothing to do with emotions. But what she had just shared with Connor had been emotional. Even now her skin was thrumming, tingling, bore his scent.

  She felt Connor stir, and then she was pulled deeper into his embrace. His chest felt solid, enduring, comforting. “Tell me what you’re thinking,” he said softly.

  There was so much she wanted to tell him. So much she wanted to show him. “I’m thinking that I wished I’d known that there didn’t always have to be pain.”

  “Oh, baby.” Connor pulled her tight into his arms and hoped he had destroyed every evil image she had remembered from years ago.

  Carrie’s throat felt tight with emotions, and before she could say anything, Connor leaned over and kissed her and she was filled with a sense of warmth and security. Emotions welled inside of her and tears filled her eyes as she returned his kiss. She never thought she could share this sort of passion with anyone, but Connor Hargrove was proving her wrong.

  “What are your plans for Thanksgiving?”

  Connor’s question reminded Carrie that Thanksgiving was next week. She glanced over at him. After making love again, they had showered together then ordered breakfast from room service. They had eaten while Connor brought her up to date on his meeting with Miller. Using the connections Miller still had within the police force, he had promised to find out as much as he could about the mystery woman who claime
d to be Anderson’s sister.

  When breakfast was over, they decided to make part of their visit to L.A. a pleasure trip and had signed up for one of the sightseeing tours. Afterward, they returned back to the hotel and ordered dinner. As soon as their stomachs had gotten filled, they turned their concentration to another kind of nourishment. They had quickly divested each other of their clothes, and Connor had swept Carrie into his arms and they had made love again and again.

  Even now, Carrie couldn’t get out of her mind the feel of running her hands over Connor’s ribs, back, and stomach and feeling the solid strength of the muscles beneath the palm of her hands.

  She had lost track of time. All she knew was that every time Connor had rolled off her, after making love to her, she had fallen in love with him that much more. He had given her pleasurable sensations over and over again, replacing all the feelings of helplessness she’d felt beneath a male body all those many years ago.

  “My brothers are flying in, starting this weekend, in fact,” she said smiling. “And we’re spending the day with my father. Logan and Lyle are the ones who enjoy doing all the cooking, and as usual they plan to cook an entire meal including the turkey, dressing, and potato pies.” She glanced over at him. There was a lot about Connor that she didn’t know. “What about you? Do you have a family?”

  He grinned. “Oh, yeah.” He pulled her closer into his arms and then told her about his mother and older sister and how they enjoyed getting together on Thanksgiving. For his mother, the gathering was an expectation. Even when he was working as a cop, he was expected to at least drop by and grab a plate.

  Carrie quirked an eyebrow at him. “Why did you want to know my plans for Thanksgiving?”

  Connor shrugged. “Just wondering.” He’d been tempted to ask her to dinner at his mom’s place if she hadn’t had any plans. What the hell was he doing? He was a playa, and play as didn’t invite women to dinner at their mama’s house, for crying out loud. He enjoyed her company; sex between them was great. Shit, he had to admit that it was better than great. It was downright off the charts. And he had to accept that she wasn’t like most women he’d dated. So far she hadn’t given any signs that she expected anything beyond their time in bed together, so he should be grateful for that. But something, and he wasn’t sure exactly what, was keeping him from feeling the intense satisfaction that he should be feeling. Never in his life had he worried about keeping a woman at bay. Crossing the boundary from casual sex to serious relationship was entirely foreign to him. There had never been a woman that he’d thought enough of to make him lose focus. He intended to be a playa until such a thing was outlawed by the state. He would still be having no- strings sex in his old age while confined in a nursing home.