Checkmate anfh-3
Page 18
"Fine," he said, using his grip on her bra to pull her forward, "I'll pick you up at seven."
"Um, I go there at eight, not seven and who said that I was going with you?" she asked as she wrapped her arms back around his shoulders.
"We have a deal, Rory, so that means that you're going with me and you'll be ready by seven," he said, leaning in to kiss her as she felt his grip on her bra loosen.
"Eight," she said just as his lips touched hers, not even bothering to try and argue.
What was the point? They did have an agreement. It had nothing to do with wanting to spend more time with this man. She hated him, she reminded herself as she felt his hands move up her sides. He repulsed her, she thought as she opened her mouth in welcome and shifted on his lap, rubbing against the large, hard bulge that was driving her crazy and leaning into him as his hands slowly came up her sides.
Her body trembled as her nipples hardened in anticipation. She'd never craved a man's touch as much as she craved his and if he didn't move his ass and touch her she was going to-
"Rory! The fire inspector is here!" Jacob announced from behind the protection of the door. Not that the door would keep him safe for long. Once she managed to catch her breath, fix her bra and pull on a shirt, she fully planned on strangling him and judging by the vicious growl that escaped Connor's throat, he was probably having a few violent thoughts of his own.
"Seven," Connor said tightly, averting his eyes to the side as he carefully helped her climb off his lap.
"Seven what?" she asked in a daze as her body mourned the loss of his touch.
"Be ready," he said, sounding pained as he stood up and stiffly walked out of the office, shutting the door behind him without a glance in her direction.
She looked down at herself and groaned pathetically as she let herself fall over onto her side. When her eyes landed on the clock it actually terrified her that she was counting down the hours until seven instead of dreading each passing minute like any sane woman would.
"No! Not the duct tape!" Jacob cried out from the other room, making her lips twitch. One thing that she could say about Connor O'Neill, he'd never leave her bored.
Chapter 21
Sixty more seconds.......
He dropped his head back and clenched his jaw tightly shut as ice cold water hit him. Just sixty more seconds, he swore as his muscles started to cramp to the point of pain. His eyes closed as he tried to focus on anything other than the ice cold water assaulting his body. He thought of the manor, baseball, his old high school locker combination and by the time his mind turned to what he had for lunch he felt his body relax somewhat and the most painful erection that he'd ever experienced in his life started to go down.
A shaky breath escaped him as he opened his eyes and reached out to shut the water off. He knew that he should have taken himself in hand to avoid this torture, but that would have only made it worse. It wouldn't have been enough and would have only aggravated him more. His only saving grace was the fact that he still hadn't seen Rory's breasts. His hands had brushed against them, but while she'd been in his arms he somehow found the will power not to look down.
He'd planned on watching her as he touched her beautiful, and he damn well knew that they would be beautiful, breasts for the first time. Thanks to the little bastard she'd hired as an assistant, he never got the chance. When he stormed out of Rory's office and only found her smirking assistant and no fire inspector he almost killed the man with his bare hands. It was only the reminder that he had Rory half naked in the other room that had him hauling ass to teach the little bastard another lesson about coming between him and Rory.
By the time he finished hog tying her assistant, Rory was walking out of her office, wearing a new shirt and looking unhappy. Thirty seconds after she told him about the text message Craig sent her, he became decidedly pissed off. The lumber they'd ordered for the roof, the same lumber that he was told would be delivered by lunchtime, was delayed because the flatbed that was transporting it broke down in Massachusetts.
After a dozen phone calls it became obvious that they weren't going to be getting their lumber before Tuesday. Normally that wouldn't be much of a problem, but the forecast for Sunday night into Monday morning was rain and plenty of it. They'd been left with no choice but to send a dozen men into town to buy every last piece of tarp that they could get their hands on. It took about eight hours and a hundred men, but they managed to get the roof covered and sealed up tight. He didn't even want to think of the bullshit they'd have to deal with if they hadn't covered it up. The building had enough problems without adding mold or more rot to the mix.
He fought back a yawn as he reached for a towel. After putting in fourteen hours today, he was exhausted. He should be crawling into bed right now, especially since he had to get up bright and early tomorrow morning to fish with Rory's old man and start working on her brothers. If this had been a date, not that this was really a date, with any other woman he wouldn't have hesitated in breaking it, but this was with Rory. He only had five months with her and he was not about to waste a single minute of it.
Speaking of his "date" with Rory, he was late, he reminded himself with a grumble as he wrapped a towel around his waist. He needed to move his ass and get dressed. It was already after eight and the place was going to be packed. They'd be lucky to get a table near the bathrooms tonight and that's definitely not how he wanted to spend the night with her. He'd rather take her in his bed and hold her. Actually, he'd rather take her in his bed and make love to her all night, but since that required more energy than he had right now, he was going to have to settle for taking her out and hopefully holding her in his arms a time or two on the dance floor.
He walked into his bedroom, fighting back another yawn when his eyes landed on the bed. What he saw there had him stumbling and doing a double take. Why was Rory curled up in his bed in only a pink cotton camisole and panties? Was he dreaming? he wondered and not really caring as he walked over to her.
"Too tired. Not going out," she mumbled pathetically without bothering to open her eyes.
"I see," he said, chuckling as she snuggled against his pillow.
"Good. Now carry me back to my room," she muttered even as she blindly reached out for a blanket. When she didn't find one she let out a frustrated little groan and flopped over onto her other side and curled up.
With a sigh, he walked over to the bed and picked her up so that he could pull the covers back. When he laid her back down, she curled right back up, snuggled against his pillow and released a happy little sigh when he pulled the covers over her. He should be pissed that his plans were being wrecked again, but he just couldn't, not when breaking their plans meant that he got to hold Rory in his arms all night.
He would be holding her in his arms all night long, he decided as he quickly pulled on a pair of boxers and climbed in behind her. When he wrapped his arm around her, she grumbled, but didn't stop him from pulling her against him. Once he had her where he wanted her, he closed his eyes and felt his body relax.
A few seconds later he let out a grunt when she abruptly turned in his arms, whacking him in the shoulder with her cast as she snuggled against him. He winced as he tightened his hold on her, telling himself that he was doing it because he didn't want to wake up covered in bruises. She was a violent little thing after all, he mused as he kissed the top of her head. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he never wanted to let her go.
* * *
He really was handsome, Rory thought with a smile as she gently caressed his jaw. She should leave, but she found that she didn't want to go, not just yet. She could come up with a million reasons why, but when it came right down to it, she enjoyed waking up in his arms.
Not that she would admit this, but waking up in his arms while he’d been taking care of her probably did more for her than the pain medication the doctor prescribed. She'd felt safe, truly safe which of course was laughable considering the fact that this man
had done anything and everything to make her life a living hell for over two decades, but she couldn't help it. She also couldn't help but like this Connor.
He made her feel safe, wanted and desired. She knew that it was probably all part of his master plan, but that didn't stop her from enjoying it. Why would it? She'd been dealing with Connor for the majority of her life and for once he wasn't annoying the shit out of her. This Connor was funny, sweet and made her happy. She'd have to be an idiot not to enjoy this short reprieve from the old Connor that made her life a living hell. She had five months, hopefully, with this Connor and she was going to make damn sure that she enjoyed every single minute of it while it lasted.
But that didn't mean that she trusted this little plan of his. She didn't. He was up to something and she'd be foolish to go into this blindly. While she enjoyed herself, she'd keep her eyes open and as soon as she figured out what Connor was up to she'd turn the tables on him. Until then........
Well, she decided that she'd play it by ear. As long as he stayed out of her way, focused on getting the manor finished, and kept kissing her in a way that she loved then she would let things continue. It actually surprised her how easily she'd accepted this situation between them. Part of her, the part that still remembered the time that he turned her blue when they were fourteen, wanted to fight against this overwhelming attraction that she felt for him and fight this deal of theirs, but she realized something last night.
She didn't want to fight this.
He mumbled something as he reached for her, but she wasn't there. When he frowned in his sleep, she couldn't help but smile as she leaned over him and pressed a kiss against his forehead. He let out a soft sigh as he rolled over onto his stomach and she took that as her cue to leave.
She climbed off his bed and took a step towards his patio when something occurred to her. She had free reign of Connor's house. Since she didn't know when an opportunity like this would come again she'd be foolish to pass this up. At least that's what she told herself as she shot a quick glance in Connor's direction to make sure that he was still asleep.
After a quick visual check she wasted no time in tiptoeing out of his room. Her breath caught as she stepped out of his room and into a dimly lit hallway. It felt as though she'd stepped back into the nineteenth century. The walls were white with dark trim. Dimly lit electric lanterns lined the wall, casting just enough light in the hallway for the historical house junkie in her to get a rush.
Old houses were her favorite. When she was little she used to love it when her father worked on an older house. She used to walk through each room, ignoring the modern changes and imagine what the house used to look like, should look like. Her brothers would tease her, but she didn't care. There was just something about an older house that spoke to her. She'd always imagined that she'd grow up and design modern homes that looked like they belonged in a previous century, but with all the modern amenities blended into the design.
In fact, she'd planned on going to college to earn a degree in architecture and one day design an entire town with old time stores and houses with an eighteenth century facade, but it never happened. Thanks to the incident in Canada she lost her college scholarship as well as her acceptance to several schools. She could have applied to another college, a less expensive college, especially since the charges had been dropped, but by the time she had enough money to do just that, her dreams had changed.
She decided to open her own construction company and truth be told, she'd never regretted that choice. That didn't mean that she couldn't mourn the loss of what might have been. It was the reason why she bought her house. She considered buying both houses, but she knew at the time that two mortgages and renovations would have been too much for her to handle.
When Connor bought this house she'd been pissed for several obvious reasons, but not really surprised. His house had needed a serious amount of work and everyone in town knew that Connor enjoyed a challenge. At seventeen he started to work for old man Thompson, a mean son of a bitch who paid piss poor wages and worked his employees to the bone. Connor started off doing the grunt work as a carpenter's apprentice. He put in long hours, got yelled at a lot from what she'd heard, but he stuck with it.
It wasn't long until people were calling Connor up and hiring him instead of old man Thompson. There were many things that she could say about Connor, but she could never call the man lazy. Everyone in town knew that he'd worked his butt off to get where he was today. He did good work, she grudgingly admitted to herself as she tried not to drool over the cast iron settings that held the lamps to the wall.
She was so going to have to get a set to replace the lights she had in her hallway, she decided as she walked across the hall and opened the beautiful oak door. As she stepped into the room, she threw the light on and nearly stumbled as her heart skipped a beat. She'd never believed in love at first sight before, but right now she was a believer.
"Do you like it?" Connor's sleep rasped voice sent shivers throughout her body as his arms wrapped around her and pulled her back against him as she let out a dreamy sigh.
Like it?
"I'm going to steal it," she told him honestly as she ran her greedy eyes over the most beautiful bathtub that she'd ever seen. It was one of those old fashioned tubs with clawed feet, a high back and appeared to be extra deep.
"Might be a little heavy," he pointed out with a chuckle as he pressed a kiss against the top of her head.
"That's what brothers are for," she mumbled, making him laugh as if she was kidding.
She wasn't.
In fact, she was pretty sure that she'd only need four of her brothers to get the job done. The other brother could keep Connor distracted while they removed the bathtub and carried it to her house. Her brothers could probably get the whole job done in under an hour. An hour after that she'd be in the tub and it would officially belong to her. Possession was nine-tenths of the law after all.
"Want to give it a test drive before you steal it?" he teased as he released her so that he could step around her. "You should probably make sure that it's worth throwing out your back," he explained with a chuckle as he walked over to the tub and started the water.
It wouldn't throw her back out since she planned on participating in the bath tub theft strictly in a supervisory capacity, but he didn't need to know that. Not when he was offering to allow her to sample what had to be heaven on earth. There was only one problem with this plan as far as she could tell.
"Bath salts," she said, frowning as she looked around the large, beautiful bathroom.
"What about them?" he asked absently as he adjusted the water temperature.
"You don't have any," she said, sounding almost accusatory, but she didn't care. By all rights no one should own a bathtub like this without having a decent supply of salts, oils and bubble bath.
Instead of shrugging it off or bitching about her complaint like most of the men she'd known would have done, he stood up and headed for the door. "I'll go grab some from your bathroom. Anything in particular that you want?" he asked, pausing by the door as he waited for her answer, not sounding or looking pissed off or putout at all. Actually, he looked like he was actually happy to do it for her.
"Lemongrass?" she asked, not used to men taking care of her.
When Connor simply nodded and took off, her first reaction was suspicion. After years of screwing each other over, she couldn't help but automatically jump to that conclusion. Her mind raced through all the things he'd done to her over the years, wondering if she was about to experience a repeat of being turned the color of a smurf, but she quickly dismissed the idea.
He wouldn't do that, not when he needed her for whatever plan he was working on. When she heard his patio door slide open from the other room another thought occurred to her, a thought that should have disgusted her, but didn't. What if he was planning on joining her in the tub? And why did the thought of Connor holding her against his naked body make her toes curl?
&
nbsp; Because she wanted him.
There, she admitted it to herself. She wanted Connor O'Neill in her bed and so what? She didn't see what the big deal was. For the next five months they were supposed to be in a relationship and what woman in her right mind would date Connor and not welcome him into her bed? He was handsome and had an incredible body. She was stuck working with him and trapped in this deal with him, so why shouldn't she enjoy what he had to offer?
It's not like there would be any confusion or hurt feelings if they decided to have sex. They both knew where they stood and they both knew that they hated each other, but that didn't stop them from wanting to tear each other's clothes off. The only downside that came to mind was that nasty little rumor that followed Connor around everywhere he went. According to the local female population, Connor was extremely selfish in bed.
Then again, weren't all men selfish in bed?
She couldn't think of a single man that she'd slept with that hadn't been selfish. They all wanted sex their way and only their way. Most of them didn't care if she found her moment since they only focused on their own. Some of the men she'd slept with cared if she enjoyed herself, but usually once she had a small "O" they went right back to focusing on their own enjoyment. Once they were done they couldn't leave fast enough.
Then again, she'd never heard women complain about the skills of the other men in town as much as they did about Connor. Not that she listened to gossip or anything, but she'd heard that the man did the absolute bare minimum to get a woman in bed and once he had her there the complaints tripled. He didn't make eye contact, refused to kiss any woman once he got her on her back and hated foreplay. If any woman enjoyed herself it was purely by accident, but she wasn't sure how much of that she believed since the rumors didn't seem to stop women from throwing themselves at him.