by Lexi Hart
I try to break his grip, but he’s way too strong. Adrenaline is rushing through my body, priming me to fight back. “You’d know all about being locked up, wouldn’t you?” I spit at him.
A dark look crosses his face, but he doesn’t release me. “Yeah. I do know about being locked up. What I can’t understand is why you’d choose that.”
Tears start to track down my face as he brings me closer so we’re eye to eye. “I am not in a jail because I’m not a criminal!”
As his anger seems to increase, all mine washes away as fear makes me shrink back from him. His expression switches and his shoulders relax. “Ah, fuck. I’m a criminal, not an animal, woman.” He kisses me so roughly, with such obvious intent that my knees give out. With a growl, he sweeps me into his arms and frowns at me. “Take it easy, darlin’. I’m not going to hurt you.”
Before I can even think about how incredibly strong he is, he takes a couple steps forward and drops me on the sofa. I’m so surprised; I gasp as he backs away with a smirk and grabs the wine bottle to swig until half the contents are gone. He swipes his mouth and manages to look menacing and sexy as he runs his tongue over his bottom lip.
“Look. I screwed up, okay? I should have been honest from the start, but you are an incredibly sexy woman, and being this close to you, having you take care of me, it’s like an unbelievable fantasy I don’t want to end, so yeah, I haven’t been completely truthful.”
My pulse doesn’t slow, but with every word that falls out of his mouth, any fear I had of him harming me in some way is replaced by pure unadulterated carnal lust. I’m starting to breathe quickly. My head is getting light. From the wine. From him. His intensity. The sheer risk. The recklessness. The need.
The heat in the room that has nothing to do with the fire. I want him. Right here. Right now.
I tug at the neck of my sweatshirt and try to think about anything apart from the way he’s looking at me. Like he wants to devour me. I’m so turned on; I whimper from where he threw me on the sofa. His eyebrows rise, and he seems to stop breathing. He swallows hard and places the wine bottle down on the coffee table without breaking eye contact.
“Evelyn don’t start something with me unless you want to finish it,” his voice is a tease and a promise all at once.
I slowly ease myself up and pull my hair out of the knot so it hangs loose in waves around my shoulders. He doesn’t move, just stares at me as I switch off the lamp and pull my sweatshirt over my head. His eyebrow rises, but he still doesn’t make a move. I make sure my eyes are locked onto his when I slowly reach around to unhook my bra. I toss it away and start to tug my sweatpants past my hips, and this time he does move, fluidly, gracefully, like a jungle cat.
He stops just short of me, the slightest of smiles on his face, making me tremble with anticipation as he grabs the waistband of my pants and jerks me closer. With his eyes locked on mine, and him pressed against me, he slowly reaches out a finger and thumb to gently trail down my breast.
My nipples grow stiff as a shudder of need shoots down to my center, making me lightheaded with desire. He runs his finger over my nipple so gently like he understands I haven’t been touched in years. Like he understands that I need this more than anything else. When my body is trembling, and electricity is surging through my body, he gently grips the back of my neck and presses my lips to his with such urgency, such need I can taste it when his tongue finds mine.
His kiss grows more insistent as his fingers slide over my belly, then lower, sliding into my panties until he’s probing the deepest parts of me making raw, primal noises mingle with my jagged breaths. I’m clinging to him, using his body to support me as I come for the first time in so long I wasn’t sure my body remembered how.
Every inch of my body is telling me this is right. That I deserve this one perfect moment before he disappears. I’m so intoxicated, lightheaded with lust. My body is trembling with need as I grab his hips and pull him down to the floor so he’s lying on top of me. When our tongues are entwined, and he’s hard and yanking my sweatpants down, he stops asking permission and takes me the way I instinctively knew he would.
He rips my panties off and slides inside me moving so intuitively; it’s like we been practicing our entire lives for this. I’m lost in him, in how connected I feel to his body, in every touch, every sensation, every shock wave that he makes blasts through me. I lose myself in the moment, lose myself as he makes me come so hard I see stars and black starts to press in.
Heat is blazing over my skin as my hands follow every curve of muscle, every scar, every hard line of his back and arms. I want to touch him, to see him, I want to ride him, make him moan, take control, and claim him.
I whisper in his ear what I want to do to him and with a grunt and a practiced move, he flips me so he can pull me on top of him. My hair is trailing over his chest, over the bandage that is starting to show larger crimson spots. I run my hands down the hard muscles of his stomach. He moans as his fingers graze my nipples, complementing my own soft moans of delight.
I’m so wet, I slide over him and start to slowly rock back and forward, finding my own sweet rhythm, rejoicing in how perfectly we fit together until I’m screaming over the wind, over the rain. His eyes are clouded with lust when he flips me over again, but despite my protests that I want him back inside me, he’s not done making me come.
Connor pushes my legs apart and gives me a deliciously wicked smile before he starts using his tongue. I’m grabbing his hair and shaking as I explode into his mouth. When I can’t take it anymore, I wriggle out of his grip and grab his ass so he’s forced to enter me.
Without a word, he starts to drive me harder, deeper as I drag my nails down his back. Even as he pounds harder, making me come again, I know my perfect moment won’t last for much longer, but I can’t help but wish Connor isn’t the man I know he must be.
As he starts to shudder on top of me, gasping my name, I grip him tighter, silently wishing he can offer me more than just a weekend.
Chapter 6.
Connor
She’s in my arms, trembling, still catching her breath. The fire is flickering over us, storm still raging outside along with my heart. I know I’m bleeding again, but the codeine is doing its thing. I don’t know if it’s her or the buzz they’re giving me, but I’m floating on air. Whatever this started out as it’s more than it should be. It’s more than sex. More than heat. I like this woman. I like the way I feel when I’m around her. A lot.
I ease myself up, ignoring the shooting pain in my chest as I lean on my arm so I can run a finger down her stomach. She exhales slowly and peers up at me; cheeks flushed as her skin rises at my touch.“I should get up.”
I cock an eyebrow. “Why? You have somewhere else to be?”
She swallows and seems to withdraw inside herself as she sits up and grabs her sweatshirt. She doesn’t look at me as she tugs her top over her amazing body. “I just need to—”
I grab her arm before she can get off the floor. “Hide? You need to go hide from me again?”
Her eyes flash dangerously, and with her hair tousled, she looks even sexier than before. “I’m not hiding from you.”
I shake my head, but she’s already getting to her feet, leaving me staring at legs that were wrapped around me a couple minutes ago. I blow out a sigh. If she wants to play it like that, I’m not exactly in the position to argue. I don’t say anything else as she starts collecting her clothes, pointedly avoiding me like she’s embarrassed.
I grab my own pants and pull them on and get to my feet. “Evelyn, can we talk?”
She meets my gaze for a split second, backing away with an armload of clothes. “What’s there to talk about?”
I choke on a laugh as her eyes dart everywhere as she refuses to look at me. “We didn’t do anything wrong here.”
Her eyes find mine, but she can’t hold my gaze. I frown at her. She initiated this little tussle, and now she’s acting like it was a mistake? Maybe it was
? Maybe it’s complicated an already messy situation. I’m out of things to say, and she’s closing off. The woman I caught a glimpse of is pushing me away five minutes after we had some of the hottest sex of my life. I’m sure I see her shoulders stiffen as she walks past the photo I’m starting to hate. I hate his face, his smile, but most of all, I hate that I’m not enough for her to forget him for even one night.
I slump back on the sofa, feeling somewhere between annoyed and curious at her continued split personality. There had to be something crucially wrong with her. She might not be a serial killer, but she’s got enough baggage weighing her down; it should be easy to walk out the door when the time times. Given the fact that we still probably have a day and a half stuck together, it’s going to test every single ounce of my resilience to make it through.
I glare at the photo, wondering how she figured out I’d been in jail and wondering why she picked me of all people to screw. She must have dozens of guys crawling on her, trying to get her attention. Guys who have way more to offer than I do. They probably drive European cars, wear designer labels, are mortgaged up the wazoo, and spend a lot of time discussing stocks and bonds.
Maybe she just used me? Maybe I should be flattered? I snort a laugh and reach forwards so I can grab the wine bottle, noticing the crack in the glass when she slammed it down and tried to slap me. I swig from the bottle, feeling the warmth curl around my body as the alcohol mixes with the codeine.
She strolls back in, hair up and dressed again. Her eyes narrow as she spies me with the bottle. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. You’re still recovering.”
I dip my chin and infuse my voice with humor. “You weren’t worried about that before.”
Her eyes widen, and even in the firelight, she looks uncomfortable. “I wasn’t thinking before.”
I get to my feet while she collects the broken glass and starts heading to the kitchen where the lights are on. I blink at the brightness and lean against the refrigerator as she wraps the glass in newspaper and throws it in the trash.
Before she can leave, I shift so I’m blocking her. “So, what was this for you? A fuck to blow off steam? Not that I’m complaining, but you don’t seem the type.”
She bristles, sucking in a breath through her teeth. Her cheeks flush with anger I know I’ve provoked. “You are hardly in the position to be criticizing my life choices.”
I shrug it off. “Maybe not. But at least I’m living in the present and not stuck in the past.”
She glares at me; her lips pressed tightly together before she huffs an exasperated breath and tries to get past me. I step to the side and block her again, and she shoves my chest. “Get out of way.” I flinch as pain shoots through my body, and her anger seems to dissolve. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
I give her a crooked smile. “That’s okay. I’m being a dick.”
She snorts a laugh. “You are.”
I reach out and take her hands in mine, and she tenses up. “You want to know something funny?”
She tilts her head, looking at me like I’m nuts. “I’m not sure.”
My lips twitch. At least she’s honest. I don’t even know why I’m thinking about telling her something personal when she’s backing off. “It’s my birthday tomorrow.”
She arches an eyebrow and pulls her hands from mine. “You really expect me to believe that? After all the lies?”
I force a smile past the lump forming in my gut and clear my throat. “Yeah. Of course. What was I thinking?”
Her eyes narrow, hands coming to her hips. “I don’t like being lied to.”
I nearly growl at her as frustration curls around my body. “Yeah, well, I don’t like what’s going on here. This hot and cold shit is going to get old real fast.”
Her jaw drops as she backs away, looking so furious my body tenses as I wait for the slaps she never got to give me last night. Her whole body starts to shake, but she spins on her heel and stalks away. I clench my teeth as I try not to punch the wall. I don’t think I can take this much longer. It would almost be worth seeing if the weather has died down enough to leave.
The electricity is back on, so I steel myself for another attack and head back into the living room with the intention of trying out the sound system I saw tucked in the corner, but she’s beat me to it and is sitting on the edge of the sofa, flicking through tv channels that are ghosting so bad, the picture is flicking across the screen.
She tosses the remote and looks at me, a challenge, and a question in her statement. “I’m going to watch a movie while the electricity is on.”
I fold my arms across my chest. “Okay. Why are you telling me? You want me to make popcorn, or help you choose?”
She’s quick to shake her head. “I was being polite. I already know what movie I’m watching.” I hate to think what chick flick she’s going to torture me with, but I haven’t got anything better to do so I start to sit down. Her smile is halfway coy as she points to the kitchen. “But yes, popcorn would be good.”
I hold back a smart-ass remark and salute her. “Yes, ma’am.”
I’m pretty sure her lips start to tug into a smile, but she chases it away before it can fully form. Still, it’s a start. And I can think of a hundred other worse things than watching a rom-com with a hot blonde.
A stupid grin grows on my face as I find the popcorn and shove it in the microwave. I watch it turn around, trying to remember the last time I did something this normal. I know she has beer, so I crack one open and chug it while I wait, ignoring her warning that I shouldn’t be mixing codeine with alcohol. When the popcorn is popped, I grab another beer and head back to the living room, shoving the popcorn in my mouth as I try not to press it against my chest. She’s waiting, the studio title on screen as she takes the popcorn bowl and nestles it on her lap, she looks unimpressed as I sit close to her.
I ignore her, eyes on the screen and grab a handful of popcorn and stuff it in my mouth. “Let me guess. Forrest Gump or Titanic?” I can feel her eyes on me and don’t need to look sidelong at her to see she’s annoyed. Either I guessed right, or I’m assuming wrong.
“I don’t watch movies like that anymore, too much death,” she mutters. I join the dots and swear aloud, earning a sharp look. “You swear too much.”
I shrug, pleased she’s calling me out. “Kind of an occupational hazard.”
Her face falls, and she turns abruptly, but not before taking the beer from my hand before I can open it. “I was going to drink that.”
“No. If you pass out again, it’ll be me dragging your ass. So I’m going to drink it.”
I chuckle, which earns me another look. “You’re kind of bossy you know that?”
She frowns but ignores me and presses play. Whatever movie I expected, I didn’t expect Predator the original with an oiled-up Arnie to start playing. I’m even more surprised when she twists off the beer top and chugs it down. I don’t know what the hell happened to the prissy woman who drinks expensive red wine from Napa Valley, but whoever this chick is, the one who’s dressed in sweats, her hair piled up messy on her head with a beer in her hand is dangerously close to perfection.
“Are you schizo? I mean is this the real Evelyn?” I ask her.
She glares at me and pauses so the screen is frozen. “Are you going to keep talking?”
I sneak more popcorn and shake my head. “No. Play it. This is a good bit.”
That at least earns me something approaching a smile. “It is. Now be quiet, or I’ll watch the rest in my room. Alone.”
It’s enough to keep me from provoking her or harboring any thoughts until she stretches her arms over her head, and my body goes rigid. I know she’s not interested, but I’m hardly going to quit when we’re sitting close in the dark.
I fake a yawn and stretch out my arm, so I lay it across her shoulders. She shoots me a look but doesn’t tell me to move it, so I shift closer until our hips are touching. “Wow. That was smooth,” she mutters. I hide my
grin and make sure I dive for the popcorn when she does. When our fingers connect, she swats my hand. “Cut it out, or I’ll put the bowl over here.”
She grabs it before I can and hovers it over to her side, all without taking her hands off the screen as Arnie starts shooting into the jungle. I concede and relax my shoulders back so I can try to enjoy the movie. I have to ignore all my instincts, but I make it through to the end without any more attempts.
She sits forward, so my arm slides down the sofa. She puts the popcorn and her empty beer bottle on the coffee table and bites her lip like she nervous. “Do you want to watch another movie?”
No, I want to take a shower with you and watch the soap suds running down your body.
“What else have you got?” I say.
She blows out a breath like she was worried I’d turn her down. “Um, mostly action. What about Terminator?”
I swear my jaw drops. Who is this woman? And where has she been all my life? “Which one?”
She looks down her nose at me, looking almost like she’s scorning me for even asking. “There are only two Terminator movies. The rest don’t exist as far as I’m concerned.”
I laugh so hard, my chest hurts. “Holy shit, I love you.”
Her eyes pop open, and she slaps me hard, her bottom lip starting to quiver. “You asshole.”
I have nothing to say, my cheek hurts like a bitch, but I’m more worried about the fact that I said something so stupid out loud. I have no way to come back from this, and she’s sitting, waiting, tears building. I have no way of fixing this even if I wanted to. I don’t know why I said it. I don’t know why I thought it. I don’t believe in love at first sight. I don’t know what I believe in.
For the first time in my life, I’m completely at a loss as to what’s happening. I’m out of control. I answer her without thinking. “Not good enough for you?”
Her mouth opens wider, shoulders starting to shake. “What? That’s not the point. You can’t say that to a woman when you’re leaving. When you have nothing to offer her.”
