“Oh, no, lovely.” Connor chided. “Open your eyes and look at me.”
Alexandra hesitantly obeyed, meeting his stare in the mirror as his hands moved over her skin. He stroked her arms, her slightly-too-wide hips, her not-toned-enough stomach.
“Look how gorgeous you are.”
Connor wedged his leg between hers, and then canted it, bending his leg and bracing his foot on the bed behind him. Alexandra’s leg was draped over Connor’s and she was exposed to his gaze via the mirror.
“Have I told you how much I love this?” He murmured, sliding his hand down to sweep through her slick folds. She shuddered and arched into his touch. “So warm and sweet.” His fingers worked her clit in precise circles until she was on the verge of exploding.
He withdrew his hand, but before she could protest he was working his cock into her with infinite slowness. She moaned and shifted but had no choice but to take what he gave her at whatever pace he set.
“And here.” He said, his hand skimming up her thigh and resting on her hip. He stroked into her with excruciatingly slowness, going incrementally deeper on each thrust. “You’re so soft here.” He added, squeezing her hip. “You fit my hand so perfectly.”
Alexandra could do nothing but watch-- his face, his hands, his cock-- as he set a slow, sensual rhythm that made her burn.
“God, I love your breasts.” He moaned, cupping the weight of one in his hand, gently rolling her nipple until it was stiff and rosy between his fingers.
“Connor.” Alexandra pleaded. He was stoking the fire hotter and hotter until she felt as if her bones would melt. She needed him to move.
“Hush now.” He whispered, nipping the skin just below her ear and drawing a whimpering sigh from her throat.
“And I love this.” He said, placing his hand on her chest, between her breasts. “This fierce heart.” He continued placing kisses down her neck, some were soft and sweet, some were gentle nips or swipes of his tongue until she was dizzy with need.
“And this smart mouth.” He growled, stroking her bottom lip with his thumb. “It gets me hard every feckin’ time.” Alexandra nipped the pad gently, before sucking his thumb into her mouth.
He nipped the back of her neck and sent shivers all the way down her spine. He followed it with open mouthed kisses and his hand rested on her neck, stroking her jaw with his thumb.
“And I love how smart you are. How passionate and funny and sweet.” Connor’s voice was strained. He was torturing her, yes, but he was also torturing himself. “You’re a goddess, Alexandra. Look at you.”
She did. This time she saw her flushed skin, her too-bright eyes, her parted lips, the sinuous undulations of her body, her rosy tipped breasts. She met Connor’s stare and saw tenderness, frank male appreciation, and fierce pride and her breath hitched.
“Do ye see now?” He gritted out. His hand drifted between her thighs once more and he began to thrust deeper, though his movements remained slow.
She looked again and saw something that transformed every part of her into a thing of beauty. Love. Love for herself- for the broken parts and the brave parts. For the woman who had clawed and crawled her way back from the darkness.
And love for him. For the patient, funny, kind, generous, brave man that he was.
Her orgasm rushed over her like a forest fire, a slow, all consuming conflagration. Her body tensed and wave after wave of wracking spasms that made Connor feel impossibly big inside her body. He swore and tensed, holding himself deep and still as he came. Alexandra watched the soul-rending pleasure sweep over him, holding his eyes as her orgasm faded.
She drifted off feeling warm and safe and happy and thinking one simple, wonderful thing: I love him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Meagan’s wedding was beautiful, and Alexandra only cried three times. She got through her speech without tripping or swearing. Everyone laughed at the right times and said ‘aww’ as if on cue. And Connor was devastatingly handsome in his tux. She had very nearly ruined her hair and her makeup by attacking him in the coatroom before the reception started.
Luckily, he was considerate enough to refrain from kissing her-- on the mouth-- and she felt, now that the reception was well and truly underway, and her job as Maid of Honor was done, it was time to thank him properly.
He watched her from the bar as she made her way toward him. His smile was so genuine and warm that her insides turned to goo and her heart skipped a beat. He wrapped an arm around her waist, his hand spanning the small of her back, and kissed her. It was soft and sweet and oh so perfect.
“Are you off the clock?” He asked, humor dancing in those bright blue eyes.
“Yes, sir. Maid of Honor duties have been officially completed.” She wiped her brow with the back of her hand and made an exaggerated grimace for effect. He chuckled and she could feel the sound resonate deep in his chest. She placed a hand over his heart-- this fierce heart-- and leaned up on tiptoe to whisper in his ear.
“I owe you a thank you for so diligently protecting my ‘uniform’ while also giving me a spectacular orgasm.”
He grinned at her and the gleam in his eye was diabolical. “I will accept your thanks whenever, and wherever, you decide.
She was about to say something along the lines of “here and now,” when his phone rang in his breast pocket. He frowned and looked at the screen. As he answered it, he tugged her toward the ballroom exit.
“Go ahead.” His tone was brisk and his smile had completely vanished. His jaw was clenched as he listened, his posture was rigid. Alexandra stood anxiously by, biting her lip to keep from interrupting.
What? What is it?? Had someone been hurt? Was her family okay? Were the guys okay?
“Have Jackson and Parker secure it once the police are finished.” He said in a low voice. Alexandra looked around, suddenly remembering there were people everywhere. “Call me with any updates.” Connor ended the call and put his phone away, dragging her further down the hall.
“What is it? What’s going on?” She asked.
“Relax, love. Everyone’s alright.” He stopped and put his hands on her arms, rubbing up and down in slow soothing strokes.
“Okay, good. What happened?” She tried to focus. Facts. Facts are helpful.
“The security company called because the alarm at your house was tripped. Jackson and Parker went over to check it out.” He paused. Pausing couldn't be good.
“Someone broke into my house?” She tried, and failed, to keep her voice from pitching up in her near panic. “When?”
“It’s all right. You’re safe. It was about two this morning, by local time.”
“I’m safe because I’m here. If I’d been in New York last night… I would have been home. Alone. Oh, God, I would have been home…”
Suddenly she couldn’t get enough air into her lungs.
“Hey, breathe, love.” He guided her to a chair and lowered her into it. Crouching in front of her. “You wouldn’t have been there alone. I would have been there too. And even if you were there alone, Jackson and Parker were there within ten minutes, I’d reckon. You would have been okay. You would’ve done just what I showed you, right?”
She nodded dumbly. That’s right. She would have followed instructions and panicked later. She would have kept quiet. She would have locked her bedroom door with the new deadbolt he’d installed, then she would have taken her phone into the bathroom and locked that door too. She would have left the lights off, stayed quiet, and called 911 and waited for help to arrive.
And if she’d been found... Her mind balked at that and she had to refocus. She would have done what Trey had taught her to do. Stay calm, stay alive and wait for an opportunity to run.
Unless of course the point would have just been to kill her. Her panic rose and she couldn’t contain it. She gasped. There wasn’t enough air. Her dress was squeezing her like a vice. Her vision narrowed to a tunnel, until all she could see were Connor’s eyes. She tried to focus. She tried
hard.
He was speaking but it was drowned out by the roaring in her ears. Her head felt like a balloon that was about to float away, if it could ever untether itself from her body which was suddenly made of lead.
“Dammit, breathe!” He shook her once by the shoulders and she gasped, filling her lungs. He scooped her up and she concentrated on breathing in and out, closing her eyes and trying to fight the growing nausea. She pressed her face into Connor’s neck and the scent of him encouraged her take in breath after breath. He was warm and solid and she could feel some of the panic beginning to ebb away.
He found a small room that was empty and dark and shoved through the doors. He didn’t put her down. Instead, he used his foot to pull out a chair and then sank into it, positioning her on his lap.
For a few minutes he just sat there, silently rubbing her back in soothing circles and occasionally kissing the top of her head. He was waiting. He had found a private place where he could hold her as long as she needed him to.
I love this man.
Once she got her breathing under control she kissed his jaw. “Thank you.”
“Are you alright?” The genuine worry in his voice made her heart squeeze.
“I will be.” She sighed. “I’m better now.”
“It kills me to see you like that.” He hugged her tighter, burying his face in her neck.
“I know. I’m sorry.” The response was automatic at this point.
His head whipped up and his gaze was hard. “Never. Apologize. Never. Not for this. None of this is your fault.”
She nodded, choking back more tears, even as some knot deep within her chest unraveled. She took a deep, easy breath for the first time in what seemed like years and kissed him gently. “Thank you.”
Alexandra took her time getting herself together and repairing her makeup before finding the bride and groom to say her goodbyes. She didn’t want to ruin their day with worries for her. Safely back in their suite, Connor helped her out of her dress and into a tub filled with warm lavender scented bubbles.
He climbed in behind her and washed her back, kneading away the tension with long firm strokes of his strong hands. Once he deemed her sufficiently relaxed-- meaning Alexandra was half asleep-- he lifted her out of the tub, gently dried them both with a towel and wrapped her in a fluffy robe.
“I’m taking this when we leave.” She mumbled. She felt a chuckle rumble through his chest as he carried her to the bedroom and set her on the king sized bed.
“Stay there.” He retreated into the bathroom and she watched him as he prowled, still naked, across the room. He was so gloriously sexy with those broad shoulders and narrow hips and tight round glutes. She sighed.
And sighed again when he returned with a spray bottle and a comb. He smirked as he set them on the table beside the bed, and positioned himself behind her. She hugged her knees, resting her chin on them as Connor started combing out the knots.
A comfortable silence stretched between them as Connor massaged her scalp and ran his fingers through her hair, making sure all the tangles were gone. She could have slept sitting up at this point, but Connor had other ideas.
He untied her robe and slid it off her shoulders, tossing it toward the end of the bed. He tugged her back against his chest, cradling her between his legs, and pulled the down comforter over them.
“Sleep, love.” She leaned into him, pressing her cheek to his chest and closed her eyes. She was surrounded by his heat, his scent and the special feeling of safety that was all Connor.
What would I do without him?
She didn’t have time to contemplate the thought before sleep claimed her.
✽✽✽
Connor hardly slept. He’d remained calm because he’d known she needed him to steady her. She needed him to be solid so that she was safe to freak out and work through her own panic. Inside, he was seething. Raging. He wanted to scream and break things. He wanted to find the bastard and pound him into the ground. He wanted to carry Alexandra away to Scotland, find them a little cottage and spend the rest of his life holding onto her to make sure she was safe.
Instead, he held her and watched her sleep and tried to make a plan. She couldn’t go back to her place any time soon. She would probably refuse to stay in London or anywhere else away from the city until this was over. No, brave, stubborn woman that she was, she’d want to go back to work and try to keep living her life.
And under all his planning and raging, was the knowledge that he was going to have to tell her everything. That terrified him. She needed to know, but he didn’t know how she would react. She was smart and he knew on an intellectual level, she would understand.
Eventually.
By the time their plane descended into JFK the following afternoon, Connor had a fairly solid plan that did nothing whatsoever to calm his nerves about the reckoning to come. This could very well end everything, and he didn’t want to consider it. Just thinking about it made his heart pound and his chest tighten.
Sam was waiting for them at the baggage claim. Alexandra gave him a shaky smile and a weak hug before Connor shook his hand.
“Thanks for coming.”
Sam cocked an eyebrow as if to say, you’re my boss, was I gonna say ‘no’? “No problem. Where to?”
“My place.” Alexandra and Connor said in unison as they both climbed into the backseat of the Hummer. Alexandra narrowed her eyes at him and he took a deep breath and counted to ten.
“You can’t go back to your place right now.” He said quietly. He hadn’t told her how bad the damage was. Last night she’d needed to rest and he hadn’t wanted her to panic all over again about the details. “They broke a window on the ground floor. Until it gets fixed, the house isn’t secure enough.”
Alexandra looked like she was going to argue, but only for a second. “Makes sense.” Thank God she’s in a reasonable mood.
“Besides, I don’t like the idea of you being there alone. They’re getting bolder, Lex. We don’t know what they might do next.” He kept his voice quiet and calm, trying to keep her calm. He didn’t want to spook her. “I thought you could stay with me for a while, unless you’d rather stay with your father.” He held his breath.
He wanted to tell her he was taking her home whether she liked it or not, but that approach did not go over well with her. So he gave her a choice, and hoped like hell that he was right in guessing that she wouldn’t be comfortable bringing her father into this unless she had to.
“Okay.” She nodded. “At least now I get to see your man-cave.” She smiled softly. He chuckled and tucked her against his side. He heaved a sigh of relief to have the first battle over with. He just hoped he still didn’t lose the war.
Sam pulled up outside his building and helped Connor gather their luggage from the trunk. They rode the elevator to the top floor and he unlocked the door to his apartment. Although, Penthouse might have been a better term for it. He had the whole floor to himself, as well as sole access to the roof.
Man-cave indeed.
“Wow.” Alexandra said, looking around his living room. He wasn’t much of a decorator, his taste ran towards simple and comfortable. He had a large sturdy black leather sectional with a few throw pillows in greys and blues. The coffee table was reclaimed barn wood with a grey wash. And of course, he had a large screen television mounted on the opposite wall. Bookshelves lined the far wall except for where the desk sat in front of the window in the center of the wall.
“I like it.” She nodded.
“Thanks. It’s not much, but it’s home.”
“It’s very… you.”
“Yeah?”
“Practical, uncomplicated, but classic. It’s honest.” She shrugged.
“Is that your way of calling me boring?” His eyebrows rose. She laughed.
“No. It means… what you see is what you get. With the occasional fun surprise.”
He grinned at her. He liked the way she looked in his living room.
�
�Make yourself comfortable. Are you hungry?”
“Starving.” She probably was. They’d left the reception early yesterday and spent the rest of the night in the hotel. They’d been on a plane for 7 hours today without much to eat aside from pretzels. Add in the jet lag and it felt like ages since breakfast that morning, even though the local time was only mid-afternoon.
He ordered a large pizza, loaded with toppings and extra cheese and then moved their suitcases to the bedroom. When he returned, he found Alexandra sitting on the hardwood floor in front of his bookshelf.
“I should’ve known that’s the first place you’d go.” He laughed.
“You can tell a lot about a person by the books they keep.”
“I haven’t read them all.” Connor admitted. He felt vaguely guilty about that for some reason.
“Everyone has books on their shelf they’ve never read.” She shrugged. “And everyone has read books that they don’t own a copy of, or chose not to keep. It’s the ones you keep, whether or not you’ve read them, that tells the story.”
“You’re making this up.”
She looked affronted and then grinned at him a little sheepishly. “Okay, I kind of am. But now that I say it, it makes sense.”
“I get it. The ones you keep are the ones you’ve read and liked, or want to read again. Or, they’re the ones you aspire to reading. It’s a combination of who you are and who you want to be, all there on the shelf in alphabetical order.”
“Exactly.” She said, wide-eyed. “And thank God you alphabetize.” She added. “That might have been a deal-breaker for me.”
He reached a hand to her and helped her to her feet. She stretched, flinging her arms over her head and arching her back. He forced himself not to stare at the way her t-shirt stretched over her breasts, or the way it rode up, exposing a strip of skin just below her bellybutton.
“Pizza will be here in a few minutes. You want something to drink? I have beer, water, coffee, tea…”
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