Standing in the Shadows m&f-2

by Shannon McKenna

  She pushed the door open and walked into the room.

  Chapter Eight

  Connor turned at the sound of the door.

  His shocked silence made her feel both terribly alone and terribly exposed, as if she stood naked on a stage in front of a murmuring crowd, and Connor's burning gaze were a spotlight. The silence went on and on. He opened his mouth. Closed it. His Adam's apple bobbed.

  "Holy shit," he said hoarsely. "What the hell are you doing?"

  Her lips started trembling, then her whole jaw. "I don't know," she whispered. She had no idea what she was doing. But whatever it was, it was obviously the wrong thing.

  Well, here it was. Worse case scenario. Times like these were a girl's opportunity to show her true quality. "I'll just, urn, put my clothes back on," she mumbled. "Excuse me."

  Her eyes filled up as she turned. She launched herself in what she sincerely hoped was the direction of the bathroom door.

  He grabbed her from behind, spun her around, and shoved her hard against the wall. "Not so fast. Wait a goddamn minute."

  His furious face was inches from hers. His naked chest grazed her nipples. She opened her mouth, but nothing intelligible came out. "I—"

  "Don't you dare come waltzing out of that bathroom buck naked and then just leave me hanging!"

  She gasped. "But I—but I thought—"

  "What? You thought what? That strutting around naked in front of me would be good sport? Big joke, huh? Dangle bait in front of me and watch me jump."

  His inexplicable fury bewildered her. "Connor, I—"

  "Don't you dare tease me like that, Erin. Don't… you… dare."

  She finally found her voice. "You got it wrong."

  "Wrong how? Say it louder. I can't hear you."

  She shoved against his chest, but he would not budge. It was as if he were rooted to the ground. "Do not yell at me!"

  "Let's hear it, Erin." His voice was soft, but no less menacing. "How am I wrong?"

  She reached to cover her breasts, but his hands flashed out and wrenched hers wide open, pinning them against the wall. He leaned closer. The hard bulge in his jeans pressed hard against her pubic bone. "No way, Erin. This was your idea. Take responsibility for it."

  She stared into his eyes. "I just wanted…" Her throat closed, and she tried again. "I wanted to—"

  "What? What did you want? What crazy game are you playing with me?"

  "Don't swear at me! I am not playing games! I wanted you!"

  His face went blank. "Huh?"

  "I want you!" Anger gave her the strength to wrench her hands loose. "God, Connor! Is it so hard to get? Could I possibly be more obvious? What do I have to do, send you a singing telegram?"

  "Me?" he repeated.

  She shoved at his hot chest, and this time he stumbled back. "Yes, you! Idiot! I had no idea you would be so ridiculous about it!" She dove for the bathroom. "Let it go. Never mind. I promise, I will never—"

  "Fuck, no." He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her around to face him. "We're not letting this go. No way."

  She'd been hoping for a smooth segue into a sensual dance, in which Connor would take the lead and she could follow his cues and hide how awkward and inexpert she was. It wasn't going to be like that.

  He was so worked up. Trembling in the grip of some intense emotion. A thrill of delicious, primitive terror went through her. "Ease up, please," she whispered. "Your hands are hurting me."

  His hands dropped. "Sorry," he said gruffly.

  She rubbed the sore spots his fingers had left. "You scared me."

  He shook with a short burst of ironic laughter. "Yeah, well, you scared me, too."

  "Dad said you had nerves of steel. I wouldn't have thought that just a naked girl could faze you."

  He let out a long, ragged sigh. "It depends on the girl. God. Look at you," he said softly. "Your body is gorgeous."

  She blushed. How gallant and sweet of him, to carry on about her perfectly ordinary body. "Um, thank you."

  He stared as if he were in a trance. A flush was burned into his high cheekbones. She reached up and touched it with her fingertips. The muscles of his face shifted beneath hot, velvety skin.

  She explored his neck, his shoulders, and slid her arms around his waist, sighing as their torsos touched. "I like your body, too," she whispered. She brushed her fingers across the ridges of muscle and bone and scar tissue. Her faintest, touch made him shudder and gasp.

  He placed his hands tentatively on her shoulders. "My hands don't know where to land." His voice shook. "You're so soft and warm. And you're naked. Everywhere."

  "So touch me everywhere," she said.

  He threaded his fingers into her hair and let them slide down its smooth length. "Am I dreaming? Prove to me that I'm not dreaming."

  "OK." She slid her hand down over his back and pinched his muscular butt. "How's that?"

  He hid his face against her hair, laughing silently. "I'm convinced," he said." My dream Erin would never do a thing like that."

  The implications of those words sank in. "Dream Erin?" she whispered. "You mean you've thought about me before?"

  "God, yes. I've wanted you for years." His hands were all over her, bold and eager. Circling her waist, caressing her bottom, her hips.

  She hid her hot, smiling face against his chest. "I bet your dream Erin would never pinch a man's butt, huh?" She started to shake with helpless laughter. "I bet she's a picture-perfect porcelain doll with shiny black patent leather shoes and ankle socks who never puts a foot wrong, right?"

  He frowned, baffled. "Huh?"

  "I bet she's a mealy-mouthed twit with an apple for the teacher. I bet she would never scare a guy half to death by jumping out of the bathroom stark naked. But guess what, Connor? Say good-bye to your dream Erin. She's history. No more Ms. Nice Girl. I quit."

  "Look out." He looked fascinated. "Are you going to put on a leather miniskirt and five-inch heels and rob banks?"

  "No. I'm going to seduce you," she announced.

  A delighted grin lit up his face. "I'm cool with that. But if it makes you feel any better, my dream Erin never wore patent leather shoes. She was always bare naked. Wide open while we made love. All that creamy skin damp and rosy."

  "Oh, my," she gasped. "Really?"

  He nodded. "Turn around."

  She was startled at the abrupt command. "What?"

  He cupped the curve of her bottom. "Your ass drives me crazy. Turn around, right here. In front of the mirror. I want to look at it."

  It was ridiculous, after all the bold lengths she'd gone to, but her face still burned. "I… but it's, ah, too big. Cindy's always giving me Buns of Steel videos for Christmas as a joke, and I—"

  "Cindy can weld her scrawny buns into steel if she wants. I like a round, beautiful ass like yours. You're the one who took your clothes off for me, Erin. I've been sneaking guilty peeks at your ass for years. Now's my chance to get a good, long look. So turn around. Now."

  She did not miss the command hidden beneath the lazy sensual tone. And he was right. This had been her idea. She turned her back to him.

  He clasped her waist, and pushed her forward gently. She swayed and caught herself on the low table. She stared straight into the mirror, back arched, bottom sticking out. Her face was bright pink.

  Connor smiled, a hot, predatory smile that made the muscles of her thighs clench. The pose he had put her in was an explicit invitation.

  He was testing her. Her arms trembled. She didn't move. She would not chicken out. No way. She'd come this far.

  His hands slid lower, worshiping every curve, caressing her inner thighs and brushing boldly over the fuzz of hair that hid her sex. He pulled her up, and back against him, his arm tight around her belly, his erection pressed against her bottom. "You make it so hard to do the right thing," he muttered.

  She struggled to concentrate. "The right thing? What is that?"

  "To not touch you," he growled. "I bullied you into this whole
thing. Seducing you puts me deep into dickhead territory."

  "Wait a minute, here. Who is seducing who? Who gets the credit for this, Mr. Connor Do-The-Right-Thing-At-All-Costs McCloud?"

  "That's not the point."

  She lifted her chin. "I think it is the point. You're pathetically misguided about what the right thing is, Connor."

  His lips quirked. "Is that right?"

  "The right thing is for you to satisfy my carnal desires," she said. "That is the only honorable response to this situation."

  An appreciative grin spread slowly over his face. "Wow. My dream Erin would never have said a thing like that, either."

  "Good-bye, dream Erin. Hello, real Erin. Get used to it."

  "Oh, I'm adjusting," he assured her. "You took me by surprise at first, but I'm getting used to the hardcore Erin real quick." He cupped her breasts, rolling her nipples between his fingers. "Just look at these tits," he murmured. "Wet dream material. So? Tell me your carnal desires, sweetheart. I stand ready to serve, in any way."

  She hesitated, and decided that pretending she knew what she was doing would be too stressful. "I'm not quite sure where I want to go from here," she admitted. "I was hoping you might have some ideas."

  He snorted. "Oh, I know exactly where I want to go from here. Only problem is, I've got no condoms."

  Her eyes widened. She had completely forgotten that small but essential detail.

  "I wasn't looking to score with you when I drove down here," he said roughly. "I didn't even let myself consider it. I cannot believe that I have a chance to make love to you, and I've blown it."

  She hesitated, biting her lip. "Couldn't we just… do it anyway?" she asked. "I've heard that if the man stops in time, that—"

  "Theoretically, sure."

  She rushed on, eager to get the thought out while it was still intact. "My period is as regular as clockwork, and it ended night before last, so I'm probably not—"

  "Probably being the key word. Erin, I'm so turned on, I'm lucky if I don't come in my pants right now just looking at you. You can't ask me not to come inside you. Not the first time, anyway, and probably not the second time, either. Because I can't promise it."

  Another thought occurred to her. "I'm sorry, I should've said this sooner. If you're thinking about being safe, I can tell you my sexual history in about a minute, and everything I've done has always been with a condom, so—"

  "No, Erin. Actually, that was the last thing on my mind," he said gently. "But since we're on the subject, I always made a point of being safe, too. And I tested negative on my last physical, which was before the coma, and all that. And I haven't been with anyone since long before then. So, uh… just so you know."

  "Thanks," she murmured. "That's a very long time." Not as long as her own spell of celibacy, of course, but she was a special case. "So, we could do, urn, other things, couldn't we?"

  His smile was slow, sexy, merciless. "Oh yeah? What things?"

  "Oh, there are lots of possibilities." She tried to sound casual.

  "Name them for me," he said softly. "Tell me your favorites."

  Her eyes dropped. "I can't," she whispered.

  He pulled her against him. "That's about what I figured."

  She hid her face against his chest. He didn't feel like he was losing interest just because she was shy and inexpert, judging by the hot bulge pressed against her belly. That was promising.

  He wound his hand into the hair at the nape of her neck and tilted her head back. "Would you tell me something, Erin?" he asked. "Because it's driving me crazy, not knowing."

  She met his searching gaze. "What?"

  "The sex you say you've had, was it with Georg Luksch?"

  She wrenched out of his arms. "I never let that horrible man touch me! How could you even ask me that?"

  "Don't get pissed off," he soothed. "I wouldn't blame you if you had. Nobody would. A guy who looks like that—"

  "Like what?" She lunged for her suitcase, rummaging for some clothes with trembling fingers. "He looked like a gigolo! He didn't interest me in the least!" She found some cotton panties and yanked them on inside out.

  "Oh, come on. He looked like a goddamn Calvin Klein ad."

  "Not after you were done with him, he didn't!" He winced. "I'm sorry you had to see that. But I'm not sorry I did it."

  "Whatever," she snapped. "Think what you want, Connor. I don't care. I was ravished, soiled, dishonored. I did everything there is to do with him. I am absolutely ruined. OK? Now deal with it!"

  She wrenched a pair of pants out of her suitcase and sat on the bed to pull them on. Connor yanked them out of her hands, flung them away, and pushed her down onto her back. His hot, half-naked body sprawled heavily over hers. "Bullshit. Look me in the eye, Erin."

  She struggled wildly against him. "Get off me!"

  "Look me in the eye," he repeated. "That's all I ask."

  She glared at him for a moment. "Satisfied?"

  He relaxed, and nodded. "Yeah. You never let him touch you."

  "Oh yeah? How do you know? Maybe I lied!"

  "You can't lie to me," he said calmly. "I can read you."

  "Oh! That is so arrogant! You don't know me, Connor! And you think you can look into my eyes and read my mind?" She swatted at his chest. "I can't even read my own goddamn mind!"

  "I do know you," he said stubbornly. "And you never let him touch you."

  She turned her face away, her throat quivering. "No," she admitted. "He wasn't my type. And he made me nervous."

  He rolled off her and propped his head up on his hand. His other hand splayed possessively over the curve of her hip. "Good," he said.

  "I don't see how it changes anything."

  "It doesn't," he said. "But it does make me feel better. I had nightmares for months about that bastard touching you."

  She sat up, startled. "You did?"

  His direct, silent gaze was her answer. His hand stroked, settled into the curve of her waist, pulling her until their bodies touched again.

  "So did I," she whispered. "It was bad. For a while."

  He pressed tender kisses against her neck and jaw. "We were discussing, what was it? Oh, yeah. Sexual possibilities that don't include intercourse," he mused. "Now there's an interesting topic. I think we should get back to it" He plucked at the elastic of her panties and gave her a wistful look. "I liked it better when you were naked."

  "That was before you made me mad," she said.

  "I could make you forgive me." He covered her face with soft kisses. "Let's get those panties off you, and I'll show you what I mean."

  Cold fear tightened in her belly. Face the facts, babe. One hurting puppy. Lousy lay. Bradley's boredom and frustration at how long she took, how difficult she was. She let out a nervous giggle. "Oh, I'd rather concentrate on you first. You're the one who needs to—"

  "The rules are real clear," he said. "Ladies first. It's the law."

  "But I'm not, ah…" She trailed off, miserable.

  He gazed searchingly into her face. "I thought this was what you wanted," he said slowly. "You having second thoughts?"

  "Good Lord, no! It's just that I… it's not that simple, to make me have an orgasm. I'm not… very responsive, and I don't want to bore you, and I get so anxious when I'm under pressure, which makes me tense up even more, so I was hoping we could skip that part and try some other things, and that way maybe I'll have a chance to loosen up—"

  "Erin. Shhh." He cut off her anxious babbling with a kiss. When he lifted his head, she was dazed and breathless. "No pressure. And I won't get bored. I have a really long attention span. You have no idea."

  "But I—"

  He covered her mouth with his, and all her doubts and fears melted into a vortex of tender confusion. His lips were velvety, coaxing and insistent. His tongue flicked against hers, and he deepened the kiss, sweet and clinging, like he wanted to draw the soul from her body.

  He slid his hand into her panties, his fingertips brushing ov
er her soft thatch of hair. She pressed herself against his hand, and his fingers parted her tenderly.

  "Oh, yeah. That's so beautiful," he murmured. "You're already wet and soft. There's nothing wrong with you, sweetheart. You're plenty responsive. Feel this. You're almost there, right now, and all I did was kiss you. I've barely started touching you. You were made for this. You're melting for it, like hot caramel. Feel this, put your hand right here. Feel how this beautiful clit is sticking out, all swollen and tight like it just can't wait for me to suck on it. Feel this?"

  He pressed her own fingers against the hot, throbbing glow of pleasure at the top of her cleft while his fingers delved inside her. She hid her face, panting. Her body moved of its own volition. She thrust herself against his hand. Pleasure swelled, unbearably sweet. She trapped his hand between her thighs and pressed her own down on top of it, her muscles clenching and releasing. The feeling grew, cresting.

  "Connor. Oh, God. Don't… don't…"

  "I won't leave you," he soothed. "I'm right here. Let go."

  Something huge was gathering inside her. She panicked, and fought it. "Connor… something strange is happening. I… I'm scared."

  "Go with it. It's OK, Erin."

  She shook her head. "Please. Stop. I can't. I can't—"

  "Go with it." His voice was implacable. He slid his tongue into her mouth, thrust his hand deeper, insisting.

  It overtook her. The world dissolved into pulsing black heat.

  When she finally opened her eyes, she was surprised to find herself in one piece. Her same old, familiar self.

  Connor pulled her face around and smoothed damp hair off her forehead. "Are you all right?" he asked.

  She gazed at him, speechless.

  "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

  She let her face drop to the side and nuzzled the hand that was stroking her cheek. "What… what was that?" she whispered.

  He looked alarmed. "Uh… you came, Erin," he said slowly. "You're not telling me that was your first time?"

  Her body still thrummed with residual pleasure. She closed her eyes and pressed her thighs together, savoring it. "Ah, no. I mean, yes. I thought that I had, but I've never felt the whole world go away like that. It scared me so much, I think I fainted. I thought I was dying."