He kissed her with an intensity that heated her entire body. She gasped and his tongue darted into her mouth, caressing her lower lip. When she didn’t shut him out, he probed further with a growl of satisfaction. She wanted to do whatever she could so he’d make that sound again.
He slanted his head more as he deepened the kiss and she opened wider, allowing him, and herself, better access. She slid her tongue over and around his, seeking the fullness of his lips with the tip. When she nipped his bottom lip, a bit harder than she’d intended, he made that low growl again and Alexandra felt ten feet tall and bulletproof. That and the very obvious-- and very large erection that was currently pressed against her stomach.
Every muscle in his body was bunched tight and she reveled in the sheer feel of all that coiled power. Rock hard chest pressed against her aching breasts, solid muscular arms wrapped around her, and proof of his attraction pressed hard and hot against her thigh while he kissed her senseless.
God, she wanted this. So badly. She didn’t care that he’d been a typical macho guy warning off his friends. His explanation had made sense, sort of, and she was honestly flattered that he had both thought her desirable enough that his friends would be interested in her, and that he admitted he was worried about whether or not she was into him.
Not many guys would admit to being vulnerable in any way, but that he would straight up tell her that he was afraid she’d like one of his friends more, was so incredibly endearing.
When they finally came up for air, she looked at him, bewildered.
“Charles is gay.” She blurted out.
“So is Sam, doesn’t mean I want his fecking hands on you.” Connor replied, but she could see he was relieved.
“We were friends in law school and we were both single. We got along so decided we might as well try dating. He was safe for me, I was comfortable with him, but he was in denial about his sexuality. It wasn’t until we had sex-- or tried to at any rate-- that we both realized that there was no real attraction on either side. I wasn’t a man and he wasn’t…”
It had all come out in a rush, but she couldn’t figure out how to finish the thought. She’d never really understood what Charles lacked that made his revelation that he wasn’t attracted to her a relief. But it had been a relief.
They’d been close friends and she hadn’t wanted that to end. If he’d been invested in the relationship, she wasn’t sure how she would have managed to get out of it. Maybe she wouldn’t have. Maybe she’d be married to him by now with a mini Charles running around. Something had been missing but she couldn’t pinpoint it then.
She had a better idea now, but it was still a vague notion, not a concrete quality.
“Wasn’t what?” He asked. He seemed genuinely curious.
“Hard enough?” She said. Connor laughed and she blushed at her inadvertent innuendo. “That’s not what I meant, although that was an issue for obvious reasons.” She muttered. “He was just so… nice.” She said lamely.
Connor had loosened his hold on her, no longer fearing she’d slap him or run away she supposed. Instead he held her loosely to him with a hand on her lower back while he used the other to stroke her upper back and occasionally give the back of her neck a gentle squeeze. The touch of his hand was hypnotic and she found herself talking freely while he watched her with fascination.
“He makes an excellent friend and a terrible boyfriend-- at least for me-- for the same reasons. He’s an excellent listener, but he doesn’t offer advice. He’s a big believer in boundaries and personal space. He’s flexible and compromising about most things. He’s… compliant. He’s a peacemaker everywhere but the courtroom. Great in a friend, not in a lover.
“You appreciate a friend asking if it’s okay before they do something like borrow a book or come over for dinner. Not so much when your boyfriend asks if he can touch you a certain way or call you a pet name.”
She nodded. “I mean I’m obviously not saying that I want a man who just takes what he wants and doesn’t respect the word ‘no,’ but some things you just don’t need to talk to death beforehand. Some things should just… happen naturally.”
She looked up at him and blushed. She couldn’t believe she’d overshared so much. She felt exposed and vulnerable. She took a step back and hugged herself.
“Speaking of talking things to death…” She said dryly. He put his hands back in his pockets.
“I understand where you’re coming from.” Connor sighed. “Just do me a favor, okay?”
“What’s that?”
“I know you need time, and I’ll do my best to let you have it. But if for some reason you’re not interested in the fine male specimen standing in front of you,” He said with a cocky grin. “Please try not to fall for one of my guys. There’s only so much my lizard brain can take.”
He tried to sound joking, but his eyes were earnest, and a little anxious. He really wanted her to take the chance on him. It seemed like he really did like her, for whatever reason. Now she just needed to decide if it was worth the risk to let him in.
“I will do my best.” She rolled her eyes. But then, wanting to reassure him, added, “I have to admit, you are the finest male specimen of the bunch.”
His answering smile was joyful and more than a little wicked and she couldn’t help but return it. Still feeling a little uneasy at how much she’d told him, and how much she seemed to lose her head in his presence, she needed some space to think.
“Well, I’m absolutely exhausted. Thank you for helping clean up. I would have been up half the night otherwise and I just want to crawl in bed and sleep for days.” As if she’d planned it, a yawn crept up on her then, and Connor gave her a soft smile.
“That’s my cue.” He said with a chuckle. She followed him to the foyer where he retrieved his coat and put it on. To her surprise and delight, he pulled her into his arms for a soft, lingering kiss before he left with a murmured ‘Good night.’ She found herself sighing as she locked up and headed up to her room.
Gah! Nut up, will you? Stop crushing on him like a high schooler and figure out what to do like the intelligent adult that you are.
So she thought about it like a rational adult. She liked him. They obviously had amazing chemistry and it had been three years since she’d had sex.
Jesus, has it really been that long?
Why shouldn’t she enjoy whatever this was between them? There was only one thing standing in her way. The same thing that had been an issue every other time she’d dated. It wasn’t going to go away, and her only options were to deal with it, or become a nun.
She’d tried to make relationships work in the past. Every guy she’d dated had understood. At first. She explained her boundaries and although she’d never gotten into too much detail about why she had them, they’d all respected them. But eventually they got sick of her rules, sick of all the things she couldn’t bring herself to do. She couldn’t blame them, she was sick of it too.
Connor seemed to understand. He’d witnessed her epic panic attack last weekend and still seemed to be interested. That was a good sign, right? But how long before he too decided her baggage was too much to deal with? How long before he wanted something from her she couldn’t give him?
There was only one way to find out, but the odds of her getting hurt in the process were pretty high. Maybe higher than they’d ever been. She’d liked all the guys she dated, but she hadn’t loved any of them. Nevertheless, each rejection still stung, chipping away yet another piece of her soul, but she hadn’t missed them much when they were gone.
She had a feeling that Connor’s rejection would mean something… more. It would hurt deeper and take longer to get over. Would it be worth it to risk the pain in exchange for what were sure to be some very memorable moments to keep her going once he was gone?
If she was going to live in celibacy for the rest of her life, she might as well have some steamy memories to keep her company. She made up her mind then and there that she wante
d to try. God help her, but she wanted to know if she had any hope of finding someone who would be able to accept her. Someone who would take what she could offer and think that it was enough. That she was enough.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Connor awoke with a feeling of excitement. At 5:00 am. He groaned, knowing he wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep now. He’d dreamt of Alexandra all night. Her sassy mouth and her soft hands on his body. The taste of her on his tongue and the smell of her in his nose. Almonds and honey. Warm and sweet.
He threw on a pair of gym shorts and spent a good hour pounding the heavy bag in his spare room. He followed that with some free weights and a stint on the treadmill, and by 7:00 he was ready for a shower and some breakfast.
He showered and dressed, then had a better idea than just eating a bowl of cereal at his kitchen counter. He grabbed his coat, his keys and his side arm and locked the door on the way out.
An hour later he pulled up outside of Alexandra’s brownstone. He’d stopped at a bakery on the way and picked up a selection of pastries. The entire place had smelled like almond cookies and it made him think of Alexandra, as if he hadn’t been thinking of her all morning as it was.
He climbed the steps and knocked. He could hear music playing, and he thought he could hear her singing along to Beyonce. He chuckled to himself and waited. A moment later, the door opened and Alexandra, clearly surprised to see him, greeted him in worn yoga pants and a faded t-shirt that read “Dear Monday, Nobody Likes You.”
“Nice… shirt.” He snickered, staring blatantly at her chest.
Dear God, is she not wearing a bra?
She glared at him, crossing her arms over her chest, but couldn’t completely hide her amusement. The action had the opposite effect she was going for, because it plumped her breasts up and out and Connor grinned wider.
“I don’t recall summoning you this morning.” Alexandra sniffed.
“I brought breakfast,” He said, holding the box out like an offering. “But, if you don’t want it…”
Her eyes went wide and then narrowed.
“It’s from Amy’s.” He added, waving the box beneath her nose.
“I love that place.” They said in unison. They both gave a surprised laugh and she stood back, opening the door wider.
“Alright. Come in.”
Connor set the box down on the coffee table while she locked the door.
“Coffee?” She asked, heading for the kitchen.
“Please.” He wanted to follow her, but the kitchen seemed to be dangerous for them. Every time they were alone in the kitchen together they either fought, or kissed, or both. He wanted to kiss her, but he also wanted to talk to her. He’d promised he would be patient, and he would. Even if it killed him.
She returned from the kitchen with a cup of coffee for him and he took a sip while she got comfortable on the couch. She flipped up the lid and her eyes lit with glee as she pulled out a chocolate croissant. She took a bite and tossed her head back, moaning in pleasure. Yeah, this was going to kill him. He was half hard as it was, and had been since this morning, despite the work out and the cold shower that followed.
“These are my favorite.” She said, taking another bite.
“I prefer almond, myself.” He said with a smile as he snagged one from the box. She looked at him, eyes a little wide, and blushed.
“So, what brings you by at… 8:42 on a Saturday morning?” She asked, sipping her coffee.
“You.” He didn’t see any point in beating around the bush. He liked her. He wanted her. And she knew it.
“Oh.”
“I wanted to see you. Thought you might want to go out and do something. With me.”
“Oh.” She blushed again. He thought she was going to make up an excuse or argue with him, but she surprised him.
“What did you have in mind?” She smiled.
“Whatever you want. We could go to the movies, or for lunch. We could go to a museum or an art gallery if you like.” At that last suggestion, her eyes lit up.
“I’d love to go to the Met. I haven’t been in ages.”
“Then it’s settled. We’ll have breakfast and go to the Met. Good place to start at least.” He grinned. She smiled back and the joy he saw left him breathless.
They finished their pastries while Alexandra told him about her favorite exhibits that she wanted to show him when he admitted to her that he’d never been. The fact that she was so excited to show him all her favorite pieces spread warmth from his chest throughout the rest of his body. She was so damn sweet.
She dressed quickly in a pair of jeans, flat boots, navy sweater and jacket. Even dressed in comfy casual clothes she was gorgeous. Her hazel eyes were glowing, practically gold, and her hair was drawn back into a stub of a pony tail that left tendrils framing her face and neck.
At the Met, he held her hand as they made their way through the different exhibits and she pointed out interesting details. To his delight, she wasn’t one of those pretentious art aficionados who knew a million facts about each artist and pretended to appreciate every piece, including the ones that were clearly shite.
She liked things that spoke to her, and that was all there was to it. He’d never been a big art fan, but he truly enjoyed exploring it all with her. They liked a lot of the same things, and they made fun of a lot of the so-called modern art together. They talked and laughed and most of the day passed quickly and pleasantly.
They had an easy rapport and they seemed to discuss just about everything. There were no awkward silences or uncomfortable topics. Even through lunch, and later dinner, they continued to talk and laugh. She talked about her family, her job, books, art, music, and everything that interested her. And she asked questions about him. Nothing too personal, but she seemed genuinely interested in getting to know him.
He told her about some of the places he’d traveled in the Army. He told her funny stories from his time spent in Scotland. He told her more about Angel and even a bit about some of the guys he worked with.
“So what now, Fergus?” She asked with a chuckle after he’d paid the dinner bill.
“I knew I shouldn’t have told ye.” He grumbled. She laughed harder.
“If it makes you feel better, my middle name is Matilda.” She said. Connor snickered and she rolled her eyes. “It was my grandmother’s name.”
“Aye, I figured.” He nodded. To get back to the matter at hand he said, “How about a movie?”
“Nothing I want to see.” She said. “How about we watch something at my place? I have popcorn.” She said, smiling. “And cookies.” She added in a conspiratorial whisper.
“Sold.” He beamed.
✽✽✽
Alexandra was excited and very, very nervous. Last night she’d decided that she was going to see where this thing with Connor went, but she hadn’t expected to have to put that in to practice first thing this morning. She’d been cleaning and scheming when he’d knocked on her door bearing heavenly pastries.
The day had gone better than she ever could have hoped. As far as dates went, which she assumed it was, it was probably the best she’d ever had. She’d been taken out for fancy dinners and to the opera, which she enjoyed, but she’d never been out with someone who was so easy to talk to and who made her laugh as much as Connor had.
The suggestion to go back to her place to watch a movie was spur of the moment-- spontaneous. Now she was imagining all the ways it could go wrong, and all the ways it could go so, so right.
She left him with her vast array of DVDs and Blu-Rays and told him to pick whatever he liked while she made popcorn. If she owned it, it was because she liked it and would watch it again, so whatever he picked was fine with her.
She arranged a plate of chocolate chip cookies that she had baked earlier that morning and contemplated what to serve to drink. Soda, beer, wine? Oh, hell.
“What do you want to drink?” She shouted from the kitchen. “I have water, milk, soda, beer, wine…”
“Beer, please.” He said from right behind her. She jumped about a foot and put a hand on her chest as if it would calm her frantic heart.
“Ass.” She muttered, punching him on the arm. But she was smiling, and he chuckled. God, that throaty laugh of his was so low and sexy it made her knees quake.
“Here.” She said, handing him the bowl of popcorn and the plate of cookies. “Take those out. I’ll grab drinks.”
He dutifully obeyed and she took just a moment to enjoy the view of him retreating through the dining room. He looked as if his jeans were made just for him. He’d stripped off his jacket and now wore a plain white t-shirt that she was sure would dissolve into shreds if he flexed too much. Man, he was gorgeous.
She sighed as she opened a beer and poured herself a glass of white wine.
“So, what’s the verdict?” She asked, handing him his beer.
“Well, it was a tough call.” He smirked, sipping his beer. “You have quite an interesting selection.”
“I have eclectic tastes.” She said haughtily, sinking into the couch’s far end. He set his beer on the coffee table and crouched in front of the shelf that housed most of her collection of movies.
“I mean, I don’t even know what some of these are.” He marveled, pulling out a box set. Oh, crap. She blushed preemptively. She was going to out herself as a total nerd and there was no avoiding it.
“What’s this one?” He held up the set.
“Um, well, it’s a TV series I used to watch.” She said, gulping a mouthful of wine.
“Why is she blue? And why does this guy have tentacles on his face?” He asked with a grin.
“They’re not tentacles.” She blushed harder. Lord, take me now. “They’re aliens. It’s a series about an astronaut who gets sucked through a wormhole and joins up with a ragtag group of aliens while trying to find his way home.” She huffed.
Connor tried to suppress a laugh, but couldn’t.
“I know, I know. Nerd. Just get it out now.” She rolled her eyes. He did. He laughed. And laughed. And laughed some more. She was sure she looked as red as a beet and she was prepared to call it a day and kick him out on his ass by the time he was done.
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