She did not want to be her mother’s daughter, refusing to give or take second chances. And while Connor had never actually told her she was sexy, he gave her the confidence to believe she was. Taking a deep breath, the emotions that had been swirling through her calmed, settled, focused on the present, on this moment, and what she wanted. “And I might be my mother’s daughter, but I don’t have to live my life like she did.”
The confusion clouding Connor’s expression dispersed as Kelsey rose to her knees and leaned closer. Crystal-clear desire and equally obvious denial filled the void. “Kelsey, wait.”
Determined to wipe that denial from his eyes, Kelsey swung her knee over Connor’s thighs. He caught her around the waist, the heat in his gaze burning brighter as his fingers flexed into her hips. Instead of pulling her closer, he held her steady. “Kelsey, you don’t know—”
His hesitation only pushed Kelsey forward. “I know I want you to kiss me.”
One kiss was all it would take to bury her doubts in a flood of need. She should have known Connor wouldn’t make it that easy on her. Or on himself. A war seemed to rage inside him, the frown between his eyebrows and the lines cutting grooves in his cheeks telling the tale of the battle.
One she thought she might win when his gaze dropped to her mouth. His voice a husky rasp, he asked, “That’s all you want? A kiss?”
Almost unconsciously she licked her lips, a feminine thrill rushing through her when she saw his eyes darken with desire. “It’s a good place to start, don’t you think?”
And she could think of only one place she wanted to finish—in Connor’s arms and in his bed, with no phone calls or memories of the past to interfere. Reaching up to trace the planes and angles of his face, from the doubt still pulling at his eyebrows to the tension locking his jaw, her cousin Aileen’s words rang in her head.
Connor’s the kind of man who makes a woman want to live for the moment.
Maybe that was true, but all she wanted was this man, in this moment, Kelsey insisted, ignoring the greedy voice demanding more…demanding forever.
“Now,” she argued with that voice, “I just want now.”
“Want what?” Connor demanded, his voice a rough scrape that sent shivers down her nerve endings.
“This,” she whispered as she brushed her fingertips over his mouth. “You.”
Her pulse pounded so wildly in her ears, Kelsey barely heard the words, but to Connor, her response must have been loud and clear. The one word broke through his hesitation. Leaning forward, he pulled her tighter and caught her lips in the kiss she’d waited for. Just like she’d hoped, the sheer pleasure of his mouth on hers banished all doubt, erasing any worries about anything…or anyone.
His hands still on her hips, he twisted to the side, lowering her to the couch without breaking the mind-spinning kiss. She sank into the cushions, Connor’s weight pressing her deeper, but even the full-body contact wasn’t enough. She ran her hands down his back, breathing in his fresh-from-the-shower scent. Breaking the kiss, she trailed her lips down the column of his throat. His skin was still slightly damp, and she sipped tiny droplets of water from his skin like a woman dying of thirst in the desert.
And maybe she was, Kelsey thought, vaguely surprised by the need and desire spurring her on. After all, it had been a long time…
Rising on an elbow, Connor levered away from her. For a split second, Kelsey worried that something—the hotel room, the couch, something—had reminded him of the past, of Emily, and that he was going to pull away and leave her wanting. But neither the past nor, heaven forbid, Emily were reflected in his eyes. Instead, Kelsey saw herself as he saw her, and for the first time in her life, she felt beautiful.
“Connor.” His name broke from her in a shaky whisper. She didn’t think she could speak another word if she tried, but he said everything she wanted to say…everything she wanted to hear.
“A kiss is never going to be enough. I want more. I want everything.”
“Okay,” she breathed.
Connor’s lips quirked in a half smile. “Okay?”
Nodding fiercely, she repeated, “Okay.”
Taking her at her word, as limited as it might have been, Connor reclaimed her lips in a teasing, tantalizing kiss even as his fingers toyed with the buttons on her shirt. But after his determined comment, Kelsey should have known Connor wasn’t playing.
Before she was even aware of what happened, Connor’s hot palm laid claim to the bare skin of her stomach, stealing her breath from the outside in as Kelsey realized he’d completely unbuttoned her shirt.
“Amazing,” he murmured, his eyes taking the curves rising and falling with every rapid breath.
Glancing at the off-white, no-frills bra, she gave a short laugh. She hadn’t gone to Connor’s hotel with seduction in mind and it showed. “Boring,” she argued.
“Are you kidding?” Tracing a path across the freckles on her chest, a focused, concentrated frown on his face, Connor vowed, “I think I just found a map to the Lost Dutchman’s mine.”
The silly comment startled a laugh from Kelsey, and Connor’s touch veered closer to hitting a different kind of gold mine. His fingers followed the map work of freckles, and her laughter faded away. Breathless anticipation took over, and she arched into his touch.
The plain material proved no match for Connor. He reached inside to cup her breast, and her nipple instantly tightened against his palm. The sheer pleasure of his touch sent her head spinning, and each gasp for breath only pressed her flesh tighter into his hand. He kissed her again, and Kelsey welcomed the exploring quest of his tongue. Her hands searched for the hem of his shirt, seeking out hidden treasure for herself. She followed the plain of his back, the valley of his spine, the rise of his shoulder blades, but none of it was enough.
Pulling her mouth away from his, she gasped, “Connor, wait.”
“What’s wrong?” Despite the desire pinpointing his pupils and turning his voice to gravel, Connor followed her command. Other than the rapid rise and fall of his chest, he didn’t move a muscle.
And Kelsey couldn’t help smiling. “You didn’t want to make out in a car, and I don’t want to make love on a couch. Not when the bed is only a few feet away.”
Eyes dark with desire, he accused, “I told you, you make me crazy.”
“The feeling’s mutual.”
Connor pushed off the couch and held out a hand. She linked her fingers through his and clung tight, desperate to hold onto the moment. But unlike previous interruptions that broke the mood, the walk to the bedroom, amid heated kisses and arousing touches, heightened the intensity. Her fingers clumsy with haste, Kelsey tugged at Connor’s T-shirt. She stopped kissing him only long enough to push the shirt over his head and toss it aside.
In the back of her mind, she was still slightly amazed by her own actions. For the first time, need overwhelmed nerves. She could have blamed the previous interruptions or her own personal dry spell for the undeniable hunger. But the real reason was Connor. All Connor…
He pushed her shirt from her shoulders, then stripped away her bra, and Kelsey let the garments fall, too fascinated by the sheer perfection of his broad shoulders, muscular chest and flat stomach to care about the imperfection of freckles dotting her skin. Especially not when Connor seemed so fascinated by connecting the random marks and turning them into shapes: stars, triangles, hearts…
But the arousing touch was nothing compared to the intensity of his lips as they charted that same course. The damp heat of his breath against her skin was like a promise, and when his mouth made good on that promise, Kelsey’s knees went weak. Connor followed her down to the mattress and reached for the waistband of her skirt. She expected him to whisk it away as quickly as he had her shirt, but instead her skirt and panties made a slow slide down the length of her legs. Inch by inch, and by the time he slipped them off, Kelsey had never been so glad to be so short.
“Connor.” His name broke from her in a plea, and his
green eyes glittered as he ran his hand up the inside of her thigh.
“Definitely not boring,” he murmured. He stroked her skin, and waves of pleasure washed over her. She cried out his name a second time, even as he shoved aside his jeans. The well-worn denim did not make the same slow journey as her skirt. He kicked the jeans aside in a split second, then braced his body above hers.
He claimed her mouth in a kiss, his tongue plunging deep in the same moment he buried himself between her thighs. Her back arched, her body rising to meet his, and his low groan of desire escaped their kiss. And this time it was her name that broke the silence as Connor caught her hips in his hands.
That first thrust was like the striptease with her skirt: slow, seductive, measured. But then urgency took over, reckless and wild, and Kelsey had the instant thought that this must be what it was like to ride on the back of a bike—amazed, exhilarated and desperate to hold on. But unlike on a bike, the real ride began when she lost control, careening riotously, hurtling down a path that ended in a fiery explosion as she shuddered in ecstasy a second time, bringing Connor with her.
They collapsed in a heap together, both trying to catch their breath. “Definitely not boring,” Connor repeated, as he brushed the hair away from her face. The look of tenderness in his gaze brought an ache to her throat, and Kelsey was glad when Connor eased away and tucked her against his side before he saw the tears burning her eyes.
With her head on his chest, Kelsey listened to his heartbeat gradually slow. But even without the weight of his body on hers, she couldn’t breathe. A relentless pressure squeezed her heart, like she’d dived too deep and realized too late how far she was in over her head.
Her first impression had been wrong. Connor wasn’t the type of man who made a woman want to live for the moment. He was the type of man, the only man, who’d made Kelsey long for forever.
Chapter Ten
Connor woke slowly, aware of two things. First it was way too early, and second, Kelsey was no longer in bed. The low murmur of her voice pulled him the rest of the way from sleep. “Everything’s all set, and I’ll be there to oversee the decorations and food.” A slight pause followed. “Must be a bad connection. I’m—outside. I’ll run out and get the cake right before the guests arrive. Yes, I’ll make sure to leave plenty of time. Can I talk to Emily for a second? Oh, right. Of course. She needs her beauty sleep. I’ll see you in an hour. Okay. Forty-five minutes. Bye.”
A narrow shaft of light sliced through the curtains, and in the muted glow he watched Kelsey slip on her shoes. He didn’t move or make a sound, but something must have given him away. She stiffened slightly and glanced his way as she straightened. “Hey,” she said softly. “I was trying not to wake you.”
She pushed her hair behind her ear in a nervous gesture, and Connor felt a flicker of annoyance. What was she going to do? Slip away while he was still sleeping? And why the hell would that bother him? It wasn’t as if he hadn’t done the same thing before. But that was before, and those women weren’t Kelsey, and he didn’t want her to go.
A knot twisted in his stomach at the thought of asking her to stay. The memory of his mother’s sad smile as she walked away time and time again flashed in his mind, and the words jammed in his throat. He fisted his hands against the mattress and pushed into a sitting position with a glance at the clock. “It’s not even seven.”
Her gaze fell from his to land on his naked chest and then cut away to search out the purse she’d left on the couch, but not before he’d seen something in her eyes that made the knot in his stomach tighten.
“I know it’s early, but Emily’s shower is this morning, and I have to oversee the decorations and the food and—I’m sorry.”
Connor wasn’t sure why she was apologizing—for the early hour, for leaving, for Emily’s shower…or for the regret he’d seen in her eyes.
He’d known Kelsey would regret sleeping with him, but he’d taken her at her word when she said she wanted him. He’d believed her because—hell, because he’d wanted to believe her. But that was last night. Now, in the full light of day, with the Charlene Wilson calling the shots, everything changed.
Or, he thought grimly, everything was the same. Only this time it was Kelsey lying to the Wilsons, sneaking behind their backs to see him. It was Kelsey who pretended her relationship with him didn’t exist. Familiar ground, but it hurt a hell of a lot more the second time around. And not because she’d torn open old wounds. Emily had damaged his pride, but this—this felt like something else entirely.
Tossing aside the sheet in an obvious reminder that last night had happened, Connor swung his legs over the edge of the mattress and stood. Some other time, he might have teased Kelsey about the blush blooming in her face. But not this morning. Not when the heat signaled a different kind of embarrassment. He jerked on his jeans as quickly as he’d stripped them off the night before, annoyed by his body’s reaction to the mere thought.
“I’m going to talk to Emily about the wedding—”
“I don’t give a damn about the wedding,” he said, surprised by the truth of the words. He was still worried about Emily, but as far as proving the Wilsons wrong about Dunworthy, proving them wrong about him, Connor no longer cared. Only Kelsey’s opinion mattered, an opinion suddenly in doubt.
“I’m sorry,” she repeated, before lifting distraught eyes to his.
Yeah, he got that part. She was sorry they’d slept together.
“Last night was…”
Connor’s jaw clenched, waiting for the word he knew was coming.
“…amazing, and I’d give anything to stay in bed with you—”
“Wait? What?”
“Last night was amazing.” Color flared brighter, nearly blotting out her freckles as she ducked her head. “At least I thought it was, but I’m not—”
Swallowing a curse, Connor pulled her into his arms as realization hit him like the slap upside the head he deserved. Kelsey’s reactions hadn’t been fueled by regret or embarrassment but by a vulnerability that played against his own insecurities. “Last night was amazing.”
The memory combined with Kelsey’s soft curves pressed against him, her warm breath feathering across his chest, was enough to remind him just how amazing.
“It was,” Kelsey whispered. He heard the relief in her voice, felt her smile against his skin.
“This morning could be even more amazing.”
“I know.” Despite the apparent agreement in her words, her smile fell away, and this time, he knew he wasn’t imagining the regret in her voice. Pulling out of his arms, she said, “And that’s why I have to go. Because whether you give a damn or not, Emily’s wedding is a week away and then you’ll be going home.”
She was talking about L.A., but home didn’t bring to mind images of his sterile apartment. Instead, he thought of Señora Delgado’s restaurant, he thought of his friendship with Javy, and he thought of every moment he’d spent with Kelsey…and he wondered what might happen if he didn’t go back to L.A.
“Kelsey—”
“So, see? I have to leave,” she continued despite his interruption. “Last night was an amazing moment, but it wasn’t meant to last, right?”
The hope in her eyes waited for him to contradict every word she’d said, to tell her sometimes amazing moments added up to a lifetime, but he couldn’t make himself say the words.
Ducking her head, Kelsey grabbed her purse off the couch and left. And even though the sound of the closing door slammed into his chest like a blow, Connor let her go. Because when it came right down to it, he was the one too afraid to ask her to stay.
Connor didn’t have a destination in mind when he climbed behind the Mustang’s wheel, but he couldn’t stay in the hotel room any longer. Fortunately, Javy’s car seemed to have a mind of its own, and he soon turned into the Delgado parking lot.
The restaurant wouldn’t open for hours yet, but Connor knew Maria would already be in the kitchen, stirring giant pots of tort
illa soup and prepping food. He pulled around back, the crunch of gravel beneath the tires the only sound, a sharp contrast to the night he’d brought Kelsey here when music and laughter filled the sultry air.
A metallic glint caught his eye as he climbed from the car, and he spotted a motionless wind chime made from silverware. Despite his mood, Connor smiled as a memory came to him. Furious with Javy over some scrape he’d gotten into, Maria whacked the counter with a carved spoon. The aged wood splintered on contact, adding to his mother’s anger, and she’d threatened Javy with the dire prediction that if the restaurant closed, it would be all his fault; after all, how could she cook without her favorite spoon?
The statement was a meaningless heat-of-the-moment comment that had come far too close to coming true years later. Not because of a broken spoon, but due to the expenses that followed Javy’s father’s illness and the fire that had nearly destroyed the kitchen.
A faint humming broke into his memories, and he found Maria standing at the counter, vegetables piled high in front of her, the quick, continuous motion of the knife a steady rhythm to the song she sang beneath her breath. The rustic Delgado family recipes went back for decades, but the remodeled kitchen was completely modern with its stainless-steel counters and appliances.
Maria’s face lit as he stepped inside the kitchen. “Connor! This is a surprise.”
“I wanted to apologize for taking off without saying goodbye the other night.”
She waved aside his apology with a flick of her knife before starting in on a jalapeno pepper, but curiosity lit her eyes as she said, “You and your Kelsey were in a hurry, no?”
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