Connell (Carolina Reapers Book 3)

by Samantha Whiskey

  “Have you always been like this?” she gestured down the wall of smiling, laughing faces.

  “With the pranks?”

  She nodded, moving down the wall.

  “Gods, no. My mother would have killed me if I ever pranked her. But I spent a lot of time making her laugh. My dad leaving was really hard on her, and so I felt like if she was laughing, she couldn’t be sad. But she’s really happy now, and I’m glad for it. She deserves it.”

  She looked up at me with an appraising look but didn’t speak.

  “So ye made me a cake?” I inquired, caught between trying to figure out why she was here and simply being happy that she was.

  “Oh, yes!” Her smile was fast and bright. “I meant to give you a little send-off at the office, but we got all caught up taking those pictures at the reserve, and by the time I got back, you were gone. And of course, you should have been gone. It was five o’clock. So I went home and baked.”

  “That was sweet of ye.” She was sweet. All of her.

  “You did a lot more than you signed up for. And I almost added a ball and chain—you know the jail type, not the married type—but I wasn’t sure you’d appreciate that.”

  I laughed. “Just knowing you thought of it is enough.”

  “You know, this is probably the most traditional house on the block,” she said as she peeked around the corner at the formal living room that I never used. “I don’t know why I expected you to have one of the modern ones, but this one is actually my favorite.”

  “Is it?”

  “I walked around all of the floor plans while they were being built. I’m the one who set up all the covenants so Mr. Silas would feel comfortable building here.” She touched a puck that sat on the entry hall table and then looked at me quizzically.

  “Of course, you designed the rules,” I teased. “That’s my first game puck from when I was nine years old.”

  “Really?” She looked at it again.

  “Yeah. I keep it to remind me just how damned lucky I am to be here. That this is the dream of every nine-year-old boy on skates, and I can’t take it for granted.”

  “I never thought of it that way,” she murmured. “You’re all so confident—cocky even. It’s hard to think of you as little boys with big dreams.” She looked up the staircase that led to the second floor.

  “Would you like a tour now that the house is complete, Annabelle?”

  She seemed to think about it for a moment and then nodded. “I would.”

  I led her up the stairs. “I chose it for the porch. I really liked the porch. It has four bedrooms upstairs and a guesthouse in the back, which I thought Mom might like if she comes to visit with Callum.”

  “What do you do with the other bedrooms?” she asked as we passed the first guest room.

  “I have a giant bounce house set up in one, a ball pit in the other, and—” I tried my best, but I burst into laughter when her jaw dropped. “Och, Annabelle. They’re guest rooms.”

  She scoffed and shook her head in obvious relief that I wasn’t that immature.

  “Besides, I keep the bounce house in the basement,” I told her over my shoulder as I walked into my bedroom. “And this is my room.”

  She took in the massive, sturdy furniture and calming blue tones I’d had it decorated in. “And how many women have taken this...tour?” Her tone was relaxed as her hand ran across the dark blue comforter, but there was a tension I didn’t like.

  “Quite a few, I imagine.”

  Her eyes flew to mine.

  “I know Bailey, Gage’s wife, looked at this house first. And of course Langley and Echo wanted to see it when I threw a party a couple of months ago. Faith and Harper have been up here, too.” I crossed my arms over my chest and waited for her to understand.

  “That’s not what I mean.” She arched an eyebrow at me.

  “I know what ye meant. I’m not going to tell you that I haven’t been with women, because I have, but the number is probably less than you imagine and more than I wish. But none of them have been in my home.”

  “Really.” She gave me a look I couldn’t interpret, and then made her way to the giant windows that lined one of the walls.

  “Really. You don’t bring the crazy puck-bunnies home, lass. That’s a rookie mistake. And honestly, it’s been a while since I’ve been with a woman.”

  “How long is a while? Because I have a feeling that we have two very different definitions of the term.” She turned to face me, and that same panic was in her eyes.

  “I haven’t had a relationship in a couple of years, and I haven’t slept with a woman for months. Since May.” I crossed the floor but kept enough distance between us that she wouldn’t feel trapped.

  “Since May? But you guys won the Stanley Cup in June.” Her forehead crinkled.

  “Aye, but I saw ye for the first time in May.”

  Her lips parted. “And that...you...but…”

  “You’re cute when you’re flustered.” I took the final steps between us and tucked an errant curl behind the shell of her ear. “I saw you in the street that day with those big sunglasses and wee heels—the tiny ones, and all that glorious hair in waves. After that, there was no one who appealed to me quite like you did—you do.”

  “You were naked,” she blurted out, pink staining her cheeks.

  “Aye.”

  Her eyes locked with mine, and tension flooded the room. She’d seen me naked. I’d had my fingers inside her last week, and we were standing in the middle of my bedroom.

  She swallowed and spun toward the windows, ruffling the skirt of her dress with the quick movement. “Is that a waterslide?”

  I grinned, coming to stand beside her. “Aye. Fun, isn’t it? Plus, I had them put in wee water features—they call it a splash pad—for when we have Reaper barbecues. Honestly, I just like the slide.”

  She sputtered a laugh. “Just when I think you might actually be a grown-up.”

  “If I ever truly grow up, I’m dead. Life is too short to live it all stuffed up inside someone else’s box of rules, Annabelle.” I watched her carefully, catching the nuances of her expression as she absorbed what I said.

  “My last relationship ended when I graduated college a couple of years ago,” she said suddenly, fisting her hands in the material of her dress. “He wanted to live in Atlanta, and I wanted to come home, but he’d insisted—begged actually—that I try long distance. So we did. And it seemed to work fine, I didn’t miss his...physical comfort all that much, and the phone conversations seemed like enough to bridge between visits.” She took a deep breath, her cheeks flushing. “Then, I decided to surprise him one weekend. I hopped a flight in one of my best dresses and headed toward his apartment. Only, I spotted him sitting at an outside table at this cute little restaurant right next to his building. He had flowers lying across the table—my favorite kind—and he was laughing at something the woman sitting across from him said.” She stared at the floor as she continued. “And I was so excited to see him there, so pleased with my bold plans to surprise him, that I rushed right up to him, hugged him and kissed him quickly.”

  I cringed for her.

  “Right,” she said, catching the look. “You know what was happening. But I didn’t. And once I realized I’d walked in on a date…” She buried her face in her hands. “I was mortified. You know how well I handle that.” She shook her head. “And I promised myself then and there that I’d never put myself in that position again. To be blindsided like that. Publicly humiliated. It’s not worth it.” She sighed. “And I couldn't have truly loved him because I didn’t really miss him when it was over. Maybe I missed the possibility of him, but that’s not the same.”

  “No, it’s not,” I said softly.

  “He wasn’t my first or anything. I’ve been with a few men,” she admitted as she looked out over my back yard.

  “As is your right.” Not that I didn’t want to hunt down each of those men and cut their hands off for having touched
her. The primal instinct was absurd, but it was there.

  “I’ve never had a one night stand or anything. I’ve had feelings—friendship or otherwise—for every man I’ve brought to my bed.” Her hands flexed in her skirt again.

  “I wouldn’t think less of you for any choice you’ve made—”

  “No, you don’t get it.” She turned toward me. “None of them were like...you.”

  “Scottish?” I teased.

  She arched a brow. “None of them were professional athletes—”

  “Well, we’re kind of rare. Except around here. Jesus, there are professional athletes all up and down this street—”

  “Connell!” She snapped, but there was a lift to her lips. “Be serious for a moment.”

  “I’m always serious when it comes to you,” I said softly. When I reached for her, she stepped back.

  “I like the predictable guys. The ones with five-year plans and sensible shoes. The ones who follow the rules. I like my men safe and dependable, and—”

  “Boring,” I interjected.

  “Sure, if that’s what you call it.” She folded her arms under her breasts, pushing the creamy globes to the neckline of her dress.

  Every intention I’d had not to think about getting my mouth on her flew out the window.

  “You… you are none of those things. You’re wild and unpredictable, and you couldn’t care less about rules. You’re downright reckless, which is completely and utterly terrifying because you might be reckless with me.”

  My entire body tensed, but I kept my mouth shut, waiting for her to say her piece.

  “And there’s part of me that doesn’t even care, which is even scarier! I have my life in perfect order, and then you run out of your house—naked—with the most incredible body I’ve ever seen and these eyes that melt me like butter on a warm muffin, and this accent. God, your accent really isn’t fair! And you’re funny and a little irreverent, to be honest, but you make me feel alive.”

  “And this is a bad thing?” I asked slowly, still hung up on the fact that she liked my body and my eyes. Sure, the body was a tool for my career, but I’d never been so willing to use it as a weapon to break down a woman’s defenses before. I’d never had to.

  “It’s a very bad thing because you go back to being a hotshot NHL star in a couple of weeks, and I’ll still be Annabelle Clarke, city clerk for Sweet Water. You have the power to completely turn my life upside down, and you already have!”

  “Lass, I’ve never stopped being an NHL star, and I’m quite mad over the city clerk of Sweet Water. That all sounds pretty perfect to me.” Trying to keep my hands off her, I went to stick my hands in my pockets only to realize my sweatpants didn’t have them. Smooth.

  “God, won’t you listen to what I’m saying? No, you just stand there in your t-shirt that I want to yank off and those sweatpants that aren’t hiding much, let me tell you. And you’re so you that I’m a puddle before you even touch me. Do you have any idea how much I want you?” If there wasn’t so much turmoil in her eyes, I would have laughed.

  “I have a pretty good idea because I’m in the same boat.” I’d been living on the edge of need and madness for weeks.

  “Oh no. I have it bad. I dream about you. I fantasize about you while I’m in the shower. I daydream about your hands and your mouth, and the way you kiss. I couldn't even be around you this week because I was afraid I’d jump you in the middle of the office right in front of Lacy! I don’t do this! I don’t do crazy, wild lust and irresponsible choices, and that’s all I want to do—make wild, lustful, crazy, irresponsible choices with you.”

  My cock was hard as the wood of my headboard before she was finished. That same wild lust she described clawed through my veins, demanding appeasement. I wanted this woman more than I wanted my next meal. She was my next meal.

  “Aren’t you going to say anything?” She had the nerve to pop out one of her hips and glare up at me.

  “I was waiting until you finished.” Each of my breaths were measured as I fought to keep my feet right where they were.

  “Oh.” Her lips formed that perfect little shape and stayed parted.

  “Are you finished?”

  “Um…yes. I think so.” She tugged her lower lip between her teeth, and I nearly growled.

  “Good. Because I’m going to count to three. And once I reach three, I’m going to carry ye to my bed, strip ye naked, and fuck ye until we’re both come so many times that we’re too exhausted to move. That’s how badly I want ye, Annabelle. Do you understand?”

  She blinked a few times but finally nodded. “I understand.”

  “Good. Ye want rules? I don’t have them. Ye want calm and boring? Then ye need to walk out that door because I want ye too badly to make myself leave. I might not be the safe choice, but I can promise that you’ll always be safe with me. Annabelle, I’m serious. If you don’t want this—if you don’t want me inside that beautiful body, then you have to walk away.”

  “I understand,” she whispered, her arms falling to her sides.

  “One.” I stripped off my shirt and threw it. She licked her lips.

  “Two.” My sweatpants went the same direction, leaving me nude as the first time she saw me. Her eyes widened, and her breath left in a little huff as she looked her fill. There was no fear in her eyes when she finally brought them to meet mine.

  “Three.”

  I waited a heartbeat, then two.

  Then she was in my arms, her mouth on mine in a desperate kiss. Our tongues tangled and rubbed as we gave up fighting this attraction, and simply gave in.

  I lifted her into my arms and carried her to my bed, kissing her the entire time. Her fingers tangled in my hair as she took control, claiming everything she wanted. Thank God she wanted me.

  Once I had her in the middle of my bed, I took off her heels and then started kissing my way up her legs as she fought with the fabric above.

  I had just licked a particularly sensitive spot on her inner thigh when she cursed. Loudly.

  “Annabelle?” I asked as I looked up, leaving her dress bunched around her middle and exposing a pale pink thong that had my mouth watering.

  “I’m stuck,” she admitted with a grimace as she fought with her dress. “I can’t get the damned thing off because I’m laying on it.”

  “I bet I can get if off...and ye.” I grinned and came up on my knees, then helped her to sit up. “If ye ever need help getting naked, I’m your man.”

  “Ha.” She rolled her eyes but lifted her arms with a smile. I slowly pulled the fabric over her head, until she was left in nothing but that thong and a matching, strapless bra.

  “Fuck,” I hissed as I laid her back on the bed. “God, the plans I have for ye.”

  “Oh really?” she teased, squirming beneath me.

  “Aye. Really.” I kissed her with abandon until she rocked underneath me, pressing her soft skin against my cock.

  I savored every gasp and studied every moan as I kissed my way down her body. But when I snapped her bra free and sent it flying, I lost every thought. “God, you’re beautiful.” That was all I could say before I sucked the peak of one breast into my mouth and tongued her nipple to a tight bud.

  She groaned and arched against me, so I took her other nipple between my thumb and forefinger and rolled it until it beaded. These breasts were going to star in every fantasy I’d have for the rest of my life. I wanted to kiss them, to suck them, to caress and hold them. I wanted to push them together and slide my cock between them.

  Instead, I slid down her body, kissing my way past her soft belly until I held the straps of her thong in my hands.

  “Take it off,” she ordered, arching her hips to help.

  “Hell yes.” I did as the woman bid, sliding the scrap of pink down her incredible thighs and pulling them off.

  I let go of the fantasy I’d had of her in my head because the reality was so much better. “Perfect,” I murmured because I couldn’t think of another wor
d. Her eyes were glazed with need, lips swollen from my kiss, nipples flushed from my mouth, thighs shifting with pure want.

  “You’re perfect,” she praised, lifting a finger to my abs.

  “Later,” I begged as I sank between her thighs, then pushed them wide to reveal her pussy. She was hairless except for a small strip. Just glistening, pink, plump flesh waiting to be pleasured.

  My cock throbbed in time with my heartbeat.

  I parted her with my fingers and put my mouth to her clit. She cried out, rocking against my lips as her hands gripped my head. The mix of sweet and salt on my tongue sent me reeling. I couldn’t get enough of her. My tongue swept from her opening to her clit, then worked at her with soft licks and ravenous growls as she thrashed above me.

  But it still wasn’t enough.

  I stabbed my tongue inside her, and she screamed, her muscles clamping down. Fuck, she was going to be so damned tight when I finally pushed inside her. I fucked her with my tongue as I rubbed my fingers over her clit, keeping her on the edge, but not giving her enough to send her over.

  “Connell!” she demanded, tugging at my hair. “What are you doing to me?”

  Instead of answering her, I replaced my tongue with my fingers and then sucked her clit. She arched beneath me, rocking, riding my mouth and fingers as I took her higher. Her movements grew jerky as her breaths came even choppier. Then she tensed, and I pressed hard on her clit with my tongue.

  This time my name wasn’t a demand, but a cry as she came, flooding my fingers with her arousal. So wet. So very wet.

  I licked her down, and only when she relaxed completely, I reached for a foil packet from the box in my nightstand.

  “Let me.” She opened the packet with her teeth, then rolled the condom over my cock in one sure motion. “So cliche, but could you be any bigger?”

  “You’ll like how big I am in about thirty seconds,” I promised her as I laid her back.

  “I’m counting on it,” she answered with a grin, sweeping her thumb over my lower lip. “Your mouth should be outlawed. That was...incredible.”

  “Just wait.” I lowered my mouth to kiss her and kept kissing her as her hands ran down my back to cup my ass.