Connell (Carolina Reapers Book 3)

by Samantha Whiskey

  I laughed, showing her mine. “Completely understand.”

  “Connell!” Logan called from where he stood with a few other Reapers near the silent auction tables. “Come here,” he said, waving Connell over.

  Connell leaned down and kissed my cheek before hurrying off the see what Logan needed. I scanned the crowd for Blaire, assuming she couldn’t be far away. I spotted her across the room near the facilities, laughing with a drink in her hand as she chatted with one of the NFL players that had been on Persephone’s invite list—a brother of a Reaper...Nathan Noble, if my memory was correct. And Hudson Porter’s brother—an MLB star—chatted with Hudson not four feet from them. The building was packed full of so much celebrity testosterone it was a wonder a fight hadn’t broken out yet. Though, I doubted anyone would dare to cross Persephone, not when she had connections in every major social circle from here to the west coast.

  “So, you’re the new lady in Connell’s life, yeah?” Ginger asked, her nails clinking against the glass tumbler the bartender had placed in front of her.

  I took a fast sip of my champagne. “Yes,” I said, confident in my answer. We were together, we were exclusive, and I was so over doubting our relationship at every turn.

  “That’s nice,” she said, but she pressed her lips into a line. “But, I would feel awful if I didn’t warn you.”

  I straightened on the barstool, tilting my head.

  “We dated for a bit,” she admitted. “Years ago.” She laughed at something I was completely oblivious to but continued on. “And it was never enough.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Me. I was never enough. Despite how we got along,” she said. “He constantly needed more. More laughs. More attention. More exposure for his career.” She sighed. “It was exhausting.” There was nothing malicious in her tone or in the way she looked at me, nothing but sincerity. “I don’t know how deep you’re in yet,” she said after taking a quick drink. “But I couldn’t not say anything. I’d hate for you to end up like I did, not feeling like you’re enough to sustain him.”

  I checked myself internally. Remembered the words Connell had told the reporter earlier. My heart swelled with a solid, strong sense of truth, and I smiled at her. “I appreciate the warning,” I said. “But I think you knew a different Connell.”

  She pursed her lips, a slight hint of pity flickering there, but it couldn’t touch me.

  She didn’t know him. Not anymore. And honestly, it sounded like she never had. Because him needing more laughs had nothing to do with a need for attention and everything to do with a deep-seated drive to lift spirits and lighten the mood. To clear the darkness from any situation because that is what he’d spent the first part of his life doing and he didn’t know another way to live.

  “Maybe,” Ginger said, and I finished my champagne, setting the empty glass on the bar.

  “It was nice meeting you,” I said as I crossed the room, my heart full and soaring and pounding with the absolute adoration I had for the man I headed toward.

  A newfound sense of energy pulsed through my blood, my soul, and weaved together to create one unbreakable force. My head spun with the knowledge of it, with the release I felt at finally allowing myself to let go.

  “Sorry, love,” Connell said the moment I reached him. “Logan is bidding on the European getaway, and he wanted to know if the locations were shite or not.”

  “No need to be sorry,” I said, waving him off. I couldn’t stop the smile on my lips as I looked at him, really looked at him with clear eyes and a free and open heart.

  “You’re brilliant,” he whispered in my ear, his thumb grazing my bottom lip. “That smile kills me,” he said.

  I reached up to meet his ear. “Want to explore the penthouse?” I whispered, sinking back to my level.

  His blue eyes sparked.

  “I mean,” I said. “Only if you’re done with the party. We can stay—”

  He smiled and shook his head, a few of his blond strands falling across his forehead. He intertwined our fingers and tugged us across the ballroom, through friends and strangers alike, until we reached the elevator.

  The doors had barely slid shut before his hands snaked around my waist, hauling me against him. I arched my neck, ready to taste his kiss, but he lingered, hovering just above my mouth, his eyes on mine.

  My heart beat furiously against my chest, so hard I’m sure he could feel it. Electricity buzzed between us, a white-hot current that pulsed and sizzled, and my stomach flipped with nerves. With need. With the firm realization that this moment was different than all the others.

  The way his eyes churned with a sincerity and vulnerability I’d never seen before, he felt it too.

  With a feather-light tenderness, he brushed his lips over mine. Soft, smooth, sweet. Nothing to match the hunger humming in our bodies, but gentle enough to bring tears to my eyes. To storm my soul with the emotions I’d let loose from the cage I’d kept them in for far too long.

  The elevator dinged and the doors slid open, Connell not missing a beat as he swept an arm under my knees and carried me into the incredibly large room. The city skyline twinkled outside the floor-to-ceiling windows framing the living room, but he passed the area and easily navigated us to the bedroom. The place was big enough to fit two of my master bedrooms in it, and the bed was a luxurious pile of down and silk.

  Connell held me, those eyes on mine as he grinned at me, savoring the slow pace he’d set, the burn between us both.

  I reached up, kissing him tenderly before pulling back, my breath catching in all that built in my chest.

  “You’re trembling, love,” he said, noticing the way I slightly shook against him. My nerves twisting and firing in all sorts of ways.

  I laughed nervously, biting my lip to ground my mind.

  “I love you.” The words flew past my lips on a breath I felt I’d been holding for as long as I could remember.

  His eyes flared, and he crushed his mouth on mine, and I felt his sigh of relief in every inch of my body. “I love you, Annabelle,” he said between kisses. “I love ye so damned much.”

  My heart soared at the words, at the way I felt in his arms—safe and desired, and like nothing else existed or mattered beyond this.

  We pulled apart, our chests heaving with ragged breath, and we laughed.

  Laughed from the freedom in the truth of our admission. In the soaring sensation of falling. Laughed because of the happiness swarming us both.

  And then he shifted, sliding me down every inch of his body to set me on my feet, and I gasped at the heat between my thighs. At the hardness begging for release from his tight dress pants.

  But he didn’t rush.

  No, he took his time, kissing down the seam of my neck, my shoulder as he lowered one dress strap, then the other. He slowly spun me, his lips raising flames as he trailed them down my spine as he unzipped my dress until it was a puddle of silk at my feet. He held my hand as I carefully stepped out of it, my black heels still strapped around my ankles. The blue in his eyes turned to liquid flame as he trailed the length of my body, pausing at the scrap of black lace covering my center. At the strapless bra and my breasts threatening to spill out of the cups.

  “Brilliant,” he said, wetting his lips, and I trembled from the hunger in his appraisal.

  I took a step toward him, my hands sliding up his hard chest until I reached his top button. I made quick work of removing his dress jacket and shirt, my lips and teeth teasing the bare skin of his abdomen as I worked my way lower. He hissed as I dropped to my knees, removing his pants and boxer-briefs, and I flicked my tongue over his thick head on my way back to standing.

  “Brilliant, cruel woman,” he said, tangling his fingers in my hair as he pulled me against him. He held his mouth a breath from mine and tugged my hair. I arched my neck, completely at his mercy.

  “Beautiful, hilarious man,” I teased, the motion of my words making our lips nearly touch. “I love you,” I said
again because I couldn’t keep it contained.

  The words were his undoing because one second he held us in agonizing anticipation and the next? He was sliding his hands down my hips, hooking them under my ass to haul me up and up until I had to lock my ankles around his waist. I kissed him hungrily, greedy with needing to taste him.

  He squeezed my ass as he held me against him, fucking my mouth with his tongue in sweeping strokes that told me exactly where he intended this night to go. A quick nibble on my bottom lip and he laid me on the bed. He smirked that wickedly mischievous grin of his before hooking his hands behind my knees and hauling my ass to the edge of the bed. He walked his fingers up my thighs until he reached the hem of my panties and slid them over my high heels, tossing the lace over his shoulder.

  The man dropped to his knees, and the sight of him there, the hunger in his eyes as he settled my legs over his strong shoulders—it was enough to draw a whimper from my lips.

  Then he set his mouth on me, and stars burst behind my eyes. The sensation of his lips on my slick flesh, his tongue, teasing, flicking, thrusting in and out of me. I arched into him, fisting the fabric beneath me, holding on as he pushed me farther and farther toward that sweet edge. The one that bordered on ecstasy and pain. The one that I never knew existed before him. The one that I was nearly sure he invented. Because he owned me, body and soul, and god damn he knew how to make me sing for him.

  My thighs clenched on his shoulders as feasted on me, switching from sweet and slow to hard and fast like he simply couldn’t get enough of the taste of me in his mouth. The thought spiraled me higher, wound me tighter until I was a coiled spring of heat and gasps and need.

  “Connell!” I moaned his name as I writhed beneath him, his arm keeping me firmly in place as he continued to lick and suck at me until I couldn’t see straight. Until I wasn’t sure I’d ever escape this feeling—all tight and loose at the same time.

  And then he flattened his tongue against that bundle of nerves, rocking his head up and down until I shattered around his mouth completely. A cry loosened from my lips as I arched off the bed.

  Connell stood, his eyes wild in a primal way as he licked his lips. “Delicious,” he said, his voice rough, low.

  I panted, my arms limp at my sides, my knees trembling.

  Connell snaked one arm underneath my hips, holding me in a raised position off the bed while my upper back remained against the mattress. His other hand guided my legs up and up until my calves rested against his shoulders. Until his hard cock teased the slickness between my thighs.

  He gripped my hips, content to tease me with his thick head, slipping in an inch and then quickly pulling back.

  Torture.

  Pure, delicious torture.

  “Connell,” I chided, completely at his mercy in this position.

  He smirked. “Annabelle.”

  “Please,” I said through clenched teeth when he’d slipped in again only to pull right back out.

  “Please what?”

  “Fuck me,” I nearly growled the words, and he laughed. Laughed that confident laugh that caressed every inch of my skin.

  “Like this?” He plunged all the way inside me, and I arched my head against the mattress, fisting the fabric again at the pleasure rippling my body as he filled me.

  “Yes!” I said on a tight breath.

  “This?” He asked again, pulling out completely before thrusting in to the hilt.

  “God, yes,” I said as he did it again.

  He kept a firm hold on my hips, in full control of my body, my heart, as he thrust in again and again and again. The angle allowed him to go deeper, harder than ever before, and he filled me so much I couldn’t think or breathe around the feel of him. Of the way he hit that spot deep inside me, the one that sparked for him, the one that made my entire body tremble, the one that made my head spin with pleasure.

  And I could do nothing but watch him fuck me, own me. The sight of this man…this beautiful, strong man taking his fill of my body, my soul, God it made release barrel down my spine. Made a cry burst from my lips as I clenched around his hard, hot length inside me. Made my entire body come alive as one orgasm rolled right into another as he thrusted, over and over again until my body sparked and buzzed with a weeping energy I couldn’t contain. Until waves of pleasure consumed me, body and mind. And then he hardened to the nth degree inside me and threw his head back, a deep groan rumbling from his chest as he found his own release, drawing one last burst from me along with him.

  I could barely draw breath as we came down, as he gently slid out of me, resting my legs back on the bed, and quickly, sweetly cleaned us up. He settled behind me on the bed, encasing me in his arms as we both slowed our racing hearts. As we laid in the silence of our passions, the air crackling with the intensity of it all. And as my eyelids grew heavy, my head resting against his chest, something settled in my soul. A kind of security and love I’d never known. And I whispered the words one more time before my body succumbed to the utter exhaustion Connell had wrung from it.

  15

  Connell

  “You must be exhausted.” Annabelle’s voice came through my phone, bringing waves of homesickness with it. We were at the end of a three-game away series, and I was fitting in a photo shoot for my new Armani endorsement.

  “I am,” I admitted as I looked out my hotel room window. “But I know how lucky I am, too, so it cuts the whining down. What are you up to today?”

  “Paperwork,” she said with a sigh. “Lacy already took off for an early lunch.”

  I laughed. “I thought she was supposed to outgrow that whole newlywed phase? Or could it be that you’re less annoyed than you let on and more jealous that I’m not home to take you to an early lunch?”

  “Definitely the second. You’re coming home the day after tomorrow, right?”

  “That’s the plan. I have the photoshoot here in a few minutes, and then I agreed to a magazine interview. Then it’s straight over to the game.” God, I wished I was headed home tonight. I couldn’t wait to slide into bed next to her. Not just for the sex, though that was definitely a bonus, but just to hold her.

  “I know you’ll do great.”

  “I wish ye were here.” Some of the players traveled with their wives or girlfriends, from time to time, but Annabelle’s career came first, and I respected that.

  “Me, too. But just think. When you get home, I’ll be in bed waiting for you. That should keep you going for the next two days.”

  I sighed. “That’s enough to put me on the next plane.”

  She laughed. “Two more days. Your house or mine?”

  “I’ll go wherever ye are.” It was true, and didn’t just apply to where we slept.

  “In that case, I’ll be at your house. I bet you’ve missed your bed.”

  “I’ve missed ye.” A knock sounded on my door. “Aye?”

  “Mr. MacDhuibh? We’re ready for you.” The voice was slightly muffled through the door.

  “I’ll be there in just a minute,” I called back. “I guess it’s time to go smile for a bit.”

  “What are you wearing?” Her teasing tone brought an immediate grin to my lips.

  “A full suit. Tie and all. Don’t worry, I won’t be half naked or anything.”

  She laughed. “I don’t mind if you’re half naked in an advertising campaign. It’s okay if other women ogle you. I know who you come home to.”

  “Aye, that ye do. Gotta run. I love ye.”

  “I love you.”

  Those three words slid over me like a balm, soothing the ache in my chest that had been there since I’d left Charleston days ago. I’d never minded being away for extended times before, but I’d also never had someone to go home to like I did now.

  We hung up and I walked out of my suite to see two women with clipboards. “I’m ready.”

  “Perfect,” one said, barely looking up from her board. “Mr. MacDhuibh, we’re ready for you right across the hall. I’m Sherry, an
d I’ll be here to take care of whatever you need.” She looked up and nodded. “It fits well.”

  “Should be, since ye had it made custom,” I said with a slight smirk, fingering the tie I’d negotiated for the shoot—a gift from Annabelle.

  “It looks phenomenal,” the other woman said, her voice leaving the sphere of professional.

  “Vanessa,” Sherry chastised.

  “Sorry, I’m just a really big fan,” Vanessa said.

  “Not a problem,” I said with a smile that was kind, but wouldn’t encourage the lass.

  They led me across the hall into another suite that had been transformed for the photo shoot. The backdrop was simple and white, and ample staff scurried about, getting everything perfect.

  “Mr. MacDhuibh,” the photographer greeted me. “It’s a pleasure to work with you. We’ll get you out of here as soon as possible. We know you have a game tonight.”

  “Thank ye.” It was the last time I spoke for a while.

  They took pictures for the next ten minutes. Sitting, standing, leaning against the wall. All of it. Then they brought in the women. Models flanked me, all wearing barely-there gowns in bright, solid colors.

  They were professional, and the shoot was easy.

  “Okay, now for the wardrobe change,” the photographer ordered with a snap of his fingers. “Mr. MacDhuibh, you look great. I know we’re running behind schedule, but once we have this next series we should be done. The marketing director wanted both the classic shots and a few sexier ones.”

  “No problem,” I said with a nod, then guzzled a bottle of water. I nearly spit it out when the models came back, all in various colors and styles of lingerie.

  Bloody hell. I’d told Annabelle that I wouldn’t be half naked, but I hadn’t thought about the models. They were more like three-quarters naked.

  A blonde shot me a look that told me she’d be up for some bedroom time, and I quickly looked away. Last year, I would have taken her up on it, but the truth was I had zero interest now.