BOUGHT: A Standalone Romance

by Glenna Sinclair

  When I feel as though I can’t take another moment of the teasing, he runs his tongue over my clit, and he doesn’t stop. My breath catches in my throat, and moans pour out of me as he licks me over and over again. Panting, I push my fingers into his hair. It isn’t long before I’m moaning, twisting, cumming without holding back.

  There’s nothing I’d rather do at that moment than feel more, but I want to show Connor that I can drive him just as wild. I push myself up, pull off his shirt before I start going for his pants. His wide eyes are a welcome surprise. Pushing him back onto the bed, I work feverishly on his pants.

  The sight of his rigid cock is enough to get me going again. I move to my knees, engulf his waiting flesh with my mouth. Every swirl of my tongue, every twist of my head makes a deep moan pour from his mouth. Before I know it, he’s gripping my hair and thrusting into my mouth. I feel his cock twitch, throb.

  I refuse to let this be over quickly. Sliding up, I run my tongue over his cock, teasing him with long, languid licks. Going slowly seems to rile him up even more. His fingers brush over my nipples, squeezing them as I moan. Slowly, I pull my mouth away.

  Connor groans, but I’m quick to keep moving. I straddle his body, running my hand up the length of his cock before I lower myself onto him. The feeling of him filling me up inch by inch is enough to make my toes curl. When he’s buried inside of me, I twist my hips.

  It’s almost enough to send me over the edge, just that simple movement. I plant my hands on his chest, raising my hips before I bring them back down. Connor glances up at me. Unlike many times before, this isn’t an act. I’m not some made up persona. I’m me, and it makes me blush the way that he’s gazing at me. My hands instinctively cross my breasts. Connor pulls them away.

  “Don’t,” is all he mumbles, but it’s enough to make my confidence come flooding back.

  His hands are gripping my hips now, fingers digging into my skin. I know there will be little bruises left there tomorrow, and I can’t wait to see them. Suddenly Connor’s patience with my slow grinding disappears, because he’s thrusting up into me, forcing me to ride harder, faster. His hands grip my ass, slap it.

  I can’t hold back anymore. Wave after wave of orgasm hits me, makes me shiver, but Connor’s not done yet. He keeps thrusting into me, the moans pouring out of him spurring me on, making me hot again. My sensitive clit throbs as his body brushes against mine, and I’m cumming once more, my fingers digging into his arms.

  Connor rolls us over. He’s on top of me, pushing deeper and deeper. I can feel all of his muscles contracting. Burying his mouth against my throat, the sounds of his moans in my ear are enough to drive me over the edge again. He shudders, moans, and then he’s sliding out of me, his warm cum painting my body. Panting, he looks down at me and grins.

  “I’ll get something to clean you up,” he says as he walks away.

  Now incapable of speech, I can only nod. I watch as he walks away to the bathroom, my heart still pounding against my chest. There’s something else there too, something beneath the initial attraction. What’s going on with me?

  Connor comes back with a warm, wet towel. Once I’m all cleaned up, we hop into the shower together before we stumble back out and into bed. As I start to drift off to sleep, I feel Connor’s arm snake around my body. He pulls me close to him, his body pressed up tightly against mine. I smile.

  The alarm clock goes off way too early and much too loudly. I nearly fall out of the bed as I stumble to shut it off. Slamming my hand against it, I yelp in pain. That wakes Connor up.

  “What’s wrong? Oh, fuck,” he spits as he grabs his head. “Close the curtain.”

  “I smashed my hand,” I mumble as I pull the drapes closed quickly.

  “Let me see,” he says.

  I show my hand to him. “It might bruise a little, but you’ll be okay. Shit,” he groans as he lies back down. “My head feels like someone’s kicking it…with a knife.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Neither does my head.”

  I groan as I crawl back into bed next to him. The covers are still warm from his body. The last thing I want to do is move. I curl up against him, and he pushes hair out of my face.

  “You know we have to get up, right?”

  “Shhh,” I whisper, pressing my finger against his lips. “Five more minutes.”

  Connor smiles. We lie like that until we can’t possibly prolong the inevitable. Pushing himself up, Connor goes into his bag and finds a bottle of pain pills. He shakes out some for both of us, and we swallow them down with water.

  “I can’t believe I’m hungover,” he mumbles.

  “Well, we did finish this.” I pick up the bottle from the table.

  “That would explain why my stomach feels like I’m dying. No food for me today.”

  Even the thought of food is enough to make me feel sick. I go through my suitcase until I find the lavender dress that I’m wearing for the day. The soft fabric against my skin somehow makes me feel a little better. I work on my makeup, taking a little extra time to be sure I don’t look like a hungover idiot.

  I examine myself in the mirror. The dress hugs me in the right places, and my back looks nice. I slip on the necklace, and it trails down my spine, diamonds sparkling as they reflect the lights. Matching long earrings are slipped into my ears, and a diamond bracelet goes around my slender wrist. I glance over myself. Not bad. A small smile spreads on my lips. Once my hair is pulled up, I walk back out into the room.

  Connor is slipping into his shoes. When he looks up at me, I’m reminded that it never ceases to amaze me how handsome he is. The grin on his face just makes me want to melt. Standing up, he pulls on his jacket as I slip into my shoes. As we’re about to leave the room, he stops me. His hands run up my bare shoulders, fingers trailing down my neck. A shiver ripples through me. How does he always know just how to touch me?

  “You look amazing. Are you sure we don’t have time for me to rip that dress off of you?”

  “I’m pretty sure you’ll come up missing if we’re late,” I mumble against his mouth.

  “Damn. I don’t know if I can look at you all day and not rip it off.”

  A giggle bubbles from my lips. Playfully, I slap at Connor’s hands. “Stop it! We have to get going.”

  “Okay, okay. I suppose I’ll behave, for now. Hey,” he says, grabbing my hand before I leave out of the door.

  “What?”

  “Thank you for doing this for me. I know you think I’m an asshole sometimes, but I really do appreciate this.”

  I’m at a loss for words. Happy that Connor doesn’t wait for a reply, I follow him out of the room and downstairs. When we get to the wedding hall, people are talking softly. Connor kisses me on the cheek before he goes to meet up with the rest of the wedding party. I find a seat in the immaculate hall.

  Everything is decorated in red and white, but the people around me are an array of colors, all pastel and soft. All of the dresses seem like something you’d see at an awards show; each seems more daring than the last. I spot Charlotte, sitting alone. Our eyes meet before she turns up her nose and turns around. I’m glad I’m sitting so far back; the woman makes me want to punch her. The realization of that emotion surprises me, but I push it away for now.

  It doesn’t take long for the wedding to start, but I’m already on a different planet by then. I keep hearing Connor telling me that I look amazing, thanking me. Is he finally changing for the better? I know he won’t completely change, it seems like it’s simply part of his personality, but he seems to at least be trying.

  By the time the wedding is over, my hangover has gone away and been replaced by the need to eat. Connor poses for a few photos with his family before he comes over to me. A plate is placed in front of each of us, and we don’t speak until they’re empty.

  “I was starving,” he says, patting his belly. “You should have seen the glares my sister was shooting me during the ceremony. My stomach was a
lmost as loud as the vows.”

  I laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”

  “It’s true.” Connor holds out his hand. “Want to dance with me?”

  I hesitate. Although we’ve worked on dancing a little, I’ve never been very good at it. Connor keeps his hand out, though, insisting. Shrugging, I smile as I take it. Why not?

  We join the people already on the dance floor. As he wraps his arm around me, I’m struggling to swallow. Again, I feel it, the slight quickening of my heart. I try to will it to stop, but I can’t as he moves with me. I could get used to this, that’s for sure.

  “Smile!”

  Startled, we both turn to glance at a woman with a large camera and larger smile. We both give her a smile before she chuckles. Looking at the camera, she nods her head.

  “You two make a very beautiful couple.”

  I blush as she walks away. As I lay my head against Connor’s chest and start dancing with him again, I can feel the deep rumble of his chuckling. I glance up at him.

  “What’s so funny?” I ask, puzzled.

  “Nothing,” he replies.

  I don’t ask any more questions. Instead, I let myself enjoy our moment together. As we move, I begin to wonder about tomorrow. We’ll be on a plane back to California, and then what? I’d been so eager for this whole thing to be over, but now I’m not so sure. Will we even have anything in common once this is done?

  After a long night of dancing, eating, and way too much cake, we return to Connor’s parents’ place for the night. Gloria excuses herself early, but Connor and I sit with Mark. His father breaks out the good brandy.

  “I’m surprised by you two,” Mark says as he pours us a drink.

  “Why?” I ask.

  “This family has a certain…taste, I guess you could say. All of the women we’ve ever married have been strong, if not a little bossy, people. Now, I don’t like to speak ill of people…”

  “But he’s going to,” Connor mumbles with a grin into his glass.

  “But that Charlotte was just awful. She was always mean to Connor, almost cruel. It got to the point that we thought Connor was going to have a breakdown. You don’t seem like that, though, Angela. Really, you seem like a sweet person.”

  I smile. “Thank you, Mark. I do try.”

  I spend the rest of the night listening to Mark tell stories about Connor and his sister. Each story makes Connor turn a little redder. I enjoy watching him blush for once.

  “Look at that.” Mark squints at his watch. “It’s really late. You two should get some rest before you have to go tomorrow.”

  I yawn. “I can’t disagree with you there.”

  “The guest room is all set up.” Marks pushes himself up. “Goodnight, you two. Angela,” he says, taking my hand, “it has been a pleasure talking to you. I hope you stay around for a long time,” he says with a wink.

  I follow Mark to the guest room. Both of us are exhausted as we crawl into bed. Connor wraps his arms around me once more. Maybe I’m overthinking things, but I’m beginning to think that maybe there’s more to Connor and me.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The next morning, we sit down to breakfast with Connor’s parents before we head back out. Gloria still seems pretty irritated that her plan to marry Connor off to Lilly isn’t going as planned, but despite that, it’s not a horrible experience. They stand on the porch, waving to us as we speed down the road.

  “Well,” Connor says, “that’s it. I can’t believe we pulled it off.”

  “I can’t either.”

  I want to ask him, “What now?” but I don’t. The ride back to the airport and the plane ride itself are filled with silence. I can feel unanswered questions between us, but I don’t want to bring up the subject, and it seems that Connor doesn’t either. By the time we reach his place, I’m exhausted with the effort to keep quiet.

  “Are you hungry?” he asks as we step inside.

  I shake my head. “No, I promised Mary and Kyle that I would visit them as soon as I got back. I need to make sure that everything’s okay.”

  “It’s kind of late, maybe you should do it tomorrow.”

  “It’s only seven,” I muse. “I’ll be fine; I’ll just drive myself.”

  “I would prefer you do it tomorrow. I want to have dinner with you.”

  “Not tonight,” I say with a small smile. “Tomorrow. Let’s do it tomorrow.”

  Connor frowns. “I didn’t ask, and I didn’t say tomorrow. I’ve told you before and I’ll say it again: you’re mine.”

  When his hand grips my arm, my eyes go wide. “What is wrong with you? I don’t belong to you, or anyone else for that matter. It’s one thing to say that in the bedroom, but out here you don’t own me.”

  “I paid for you. I still have plenty of time,” he says between gritted teeth.

  I scoff. “Connor, let go of me.”

  “No.”

  I’m plagued with a sudden memory of Nathan. The way he’d always grab my arm, force me to listen to him when I didn’t want to. Panic rises in my throat, and I’m choking on it. I pull my arm away harshly.

  “You’re hurting me! You know what? I can’t take this anymore. The assignment is over. I’m finished, Connor. Pay me so I can leave.”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “Fine!” I scream. I can feel the tears gathering in my eyes. “The contract says tomorrow, so you may be able to make me wait for it, but I refuse to stand here and let you push me around!”

  I turn on my heel and storm out of the front door. As I’m waiting for my car to be brought around, I place a hand on my chest to steady myself. What was I thinking? How could I possibly think that Connor was changing? He’s the same as he’s always been: mean, selfish, cruel.

  The moment my car is pulled to a stop in front of me, I hop in and speed off. It takes every ounce of my willpower not to dissolve into a pool of tears. My fingers grip the wheel so tightly that they go white. How can I let him get to me like this?

  It isn’t just Connor, though; it’s the memories. The way he grabbed me, the tone of his voice. It was Nathan, right before he hit me, right before he would hurt me. I force myself to slow my breathing down, to take long deep breaths, but I can’t calm down. I speed down the highway, trying to outrun the memories that still haven’t healed.

  I want to call Zoey, but I hold off. I can’t allow myself to break down just yet. I have a son to look after. More than anything, I’m afraid that if I lose it right now, I’m never going to be able to get back in control of myself. I decide to go to Zoey’s after I visit Kyle and Mary.

  “You’re just in time! We’re going to the movies,” Mary says with a smile.

  “A movie sounds great!”

  I try to sound enthusiastic, but Mary glances at me a moment too long. She seems to be able to pick up on all of my emotions easily. It’s daunting. I don’t want to talk about it, though, so I move around her to look at Kyle.

  “You ready to go?”

  “Yep!”

  Mary cancels the cab and we take my car instead. I can feel the end of summer coming. There’s a slight chill in the air that won’t be able to be ignored for long. We pull into the parking lot, and I take a moment to adjust my makeup before I climb out of the car.

  Kyle is bouncing excitedly, talking about some movie with robots and explosions. Mary looks apprehensive. It takes a few moments, but eventually we all land on something we want to see. There are no robots, but there’s fighting, romance, and explosions, which seems to cover just a little bit of all of us.

  “Here.” I hand Kyle a couple of folded up bills. “Go get us snacks.”

  The boy grins. “Thanks, Angela!”

  As he runs up to the counter, I turn to Mary. “Do you think he’ll ever call me Mom?”

  “One day,” she says with a nod. “One day when he isn’t still healing. It can take a while to get over hurt. Even more so if that person is a child.”

  I smile. “You should be his mother. You’re perfec
t.”

  “Well,” she says with a chuckle, “the world has other plans. Oh, look at him. He’s ordered everything behind the counter, I think. Could you help him please?”

  I nod before I walk over to Kyle. He’s struggling under the weight of two large popcorns, nachos, drinks, and an array of different candies. I pick up some of the food and drinks.

  “Do you think you got enough snacks?”

  “Did I spend too much?” he asks with a frown, and I detect an edge of panic in his voice.

  I shake my head quickly. “I was just joking; you didn’t do anything wrong. Let’s go find our seats.”

  A pang of guilt goes through me. I didn’t know Kyle was so sensitive, but then again, I don’t know much about him. Mary sent me letters with photos and emails with video attachments, but they have grown sparser over the years. Which was fine by me, because the guilt I felt looking at those photos and videos made me feel lower than dirt.

  Kyle seems to recover quickly as we make our way into the theater. We settle down in seats near the front. As the lights go down, I heave a sigh of relief. It’s so hard to be “on” all of the time. I let myself sink into my seat.

  By the time the movie is over, Kyle and Mary are happy, but I’m still hurt. I wish I could just shut it off, shut Connor out. I turn on my phone, and message after message populates the screen. Without reading one, I delete them.

  I refuse to be stuck on him, not when he can’t seem to realize what it is that he’s doing wrong. Mary touches my arm, and I realize that I’ve been glaring at the screen for way too long. I throw both of them a smile.

  “Kyle? Do you like pizza?”

  “Duh,” he says with a laugh. “Who doesn’t?”

  I chuckle. “That’s a valid response. What do you like on yours?”

  “I like anchovies, but definitely no pineapple.”