“Check, check, and check.”
I’m melting. He’s a saver, he’s checking boxes, and he’s holding me so close I can barely think. Still, I can’t risk this if there’s no reward. “Are you really looking for a relationship?” I ask softly.
He cradles my jaw, his gaze tender. “I wasn't looking, but somehow it found me.”
I let out a swoony sigh. “Oh, Con.”
His lips meet mine in a soft kiss. I throw my arms around his neck and kiss him back passionately.
Applause breaks out nearby. I break the kiss and turn toward the curious looks of a small group of twentysomethings hanging out by the bodega on the corner.
I catch Connor’s eye, and we laugh. Guess we did put on a show. I grab his hand and head toward home. “Come on. We need privacy.”
He laughs. “You don’t need to pull my hand. I’ll go of my own accord.”
I pull harder. “Let’s go, mister—ah!” He flipped me over his shoulder! More applause rings out.
Some guy calls out, “Show her who’s boss.”
I’m about to call BS on whoever said that when Connor casually replies, “She’s got me good. Shh, don’t tell her.”
I beam and give his back a little squeeze. He gives my ass a squeeze back. This is all so inappropriate, yet I’m loving every second. “Why can’t I resist you?”
“Easy. Because I’m irresistible.”
I laugh. “Con, my head’s starting to throb. Can you put me down?”
He shifts me so I’m cradled in his arms. “Better?”
I burrow my face against his chest. “People are staring.”
“If I put you down, the blood’s gonna rush from your head. You’ll be dizzy and staggering around like a drunk. This is better.”
I smile up at him. “When you put it that way.”
“Plus this way I know you’re not going to run off without me.”
“We shouldn’t be doing this.”
“We shouldn’t not be doing this.”
I rest my cheek against his chest, his solid heat relaxing me. “That makes no sense.”
“Double negative. Two wrongs make a right.”
“But I’m always careful to be in the right with no wrongs at all.”
“With me you are in the right. It’s simple math. Con plus Becca equals…”
I lift my head to meet his eyes. “Equals what?”
He smiles warmly. “Something good.”
I sigh happily and settle against his chest. There’s something so nice about being tucked close against him. Like nothing can touch me in the safety of his arms.
He sets me down a few minutes later by the front entrance of my building. I let us in and we head to the elevator. My mind flashes back to last Friday when we were in this elevator—my nerves, the crackling tension in the air, that kiss. Only this time, Connor stands with his hands at his sides, looking straight ahead. He seems kind of serious now.
We get out of the elevator and make our way to my apartment in silence. I’m starting to get nervous. I don’t know what’s going on in his head. Is this what a relationship is like with him? Kinda serious? I was hoping for last Friday part two.
I let him in, and he heads straight for my living room, turning on the light and grabbing the TV remote off the glass coffee table. “You want help making the popcorn?”
My lusty thoughts cool. “No, I got it.”
I head to the kitchen. I’m disappointed even though I shouldn’t be. He’s showing me he’s not just into the physical. He wants to do my favorite thing—eat popcorn and watch home renovation shows. I take out a popcorn bag and stick it in the microwave, pressing the popcorn button. I have the latest Reno Magic recorded. But if I put that on, will Con notice I’m drooling over the host? Sometimes Clint Owens takes his shirt off to do work outside, and I enjoy it immensely in a solo fashion, if you know what I mean. Would Con want to be part of that?
What am I thinking? I’ve got the real deal right here. Hot Builder Guy is sitting in my living room. Even better, he’s a royal renovator and he says I got him good. Which I think means he’s melting around me as much as I’m melting around him, feeling all gooey inside. I don’t need the Clint Owens fantasy.
I leave the popcorn and peek into the living room. Connor’s arms are spread across the back of the beige sofa, his long legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles.
I can’t help myself. He looks so manly spread out across my sofa. I head straight for him.
“No popcorn?” he asks. “I swore I smelled popcorn.”
I straddle his lap, my fingers tunneling into the soft hair at the nape of his neck. “I want you.”
He gives me a sexy smile, his arms wrapping around me. “I know.”
9
Connor
I jerk awake at the sound of Becca’s alarm early Saturday morning. She slams it off with one hand and groans. We kept each other up last night. What can I say? The woman wants me bad.
I nuzzle into her neck, and she makes a soft purring sound of contentment before she gasps and shoves me away. She leaps out of bed. “I have to get ready.”
I sit up. “Me too.”
She holds up a palm. “You can’t ride the subway with me to class. We can’t be seen together.”
“There’s tons of people on the subway. No one’s going to notice us.”
She gives me a stern look, her lips in a tight line. “Con, we need to keep up appearances.”
“We will. I’ll let you go into the classroom first. No one’s going to notice anything.”
She nods once and rushes into the bathroom. A few minutes later, she steps out with her toothbrush in her mouth. She pulls it out. “Sit in the back of the room and don’t make eye contact.”
I toss the covers back and stalk toward her. I’m naked and her gaze drops to my cock, jerks up to my eyes, and then she quickly heads back to the bathroom.
I follow her in. After she rinses, I wrap my arms around her from behind, kissing her neck. Usually that turns her into a limp noodle, but this time she opens the medicine cabinet and produces a new toothbrush still in its packaging.
“Here,” she says, handing it to me.
I take the hint. She wants me minty fresh before I kiss her some more. I brush my teeth and watch in the mirror as she turns on the water for the shower and waits for it to warm. She’s tall and willowy, with small perky breasts, a smooth flat stomach, flare of narrow hips, long legs. She reminds me of a fashion model. I think she could’ve been one if she wasn’t so shy and studious. She told me last night while we were talking in the dark that she loved school because she was so good at it, which is part of the reason she’s glad to be back in a university setting. I never took school that seriously, knowing I already had a job lined up for me in the family business. If I’d applied myself back then, actually did the work, I might’ve been good at school too. But the truth is, I enjoy working with my hands, I like a good hard day’s work that makes me sweat, and I want to work for the family. I don’t regret skipping college, but now I do wish I had a stronger business background.
I make a quick trip back to the bedroom while brushing my teeth and return to the bathroom to rinse and spit. All set. I pull the shower curtain back, joining her.
“Con!”
“Yes, Becca,” I say, pulling her into my arms. “I’m minty now.” I kiss her and she melts against me. I love the way she does that.
She breaks the kiss. “You have a real issue with boundaries. Promise me you’re going to respect boundaries in the classroom. I need you to sit in the back and don’t look at me.”
I kiss her neck and suck gently on the side. I want her again.
She clings to my shoulders. “C-can you do that?”
I lift my head. “I’ll sit in back, but I might have to look at you once in a while. You’re right up front and you won’t stop talking.”
“Be serious.”
“So it sounds like roses are out, huh? No grand romantic gestur
es for my favorite professor?”
Her eyes widen. “Absolutely not.”
I smile. “Kidding. Roses are expensive and you know I'm saving for a place.” She loves that I’m a saver.
Her lashes flutter down as she stares at my chest. “I know. Another time roses would be romantic. Just not in the classroom.”
“You want a guy who does all that girly romantic stuff, don’t you?”
Her chin juts out. “And what's wrong with that?”
I run my hands up and down her sides, skimming the sides of her breasts. Her nipples form points. “Absolutely nothing. Now I know the key to Becca.”
Her voice is breathy. “Don’t do anything inappropriate, okay?”
“Who me?” I caress her breasts, and she moans. “You don't have to worry, I'm the angel of the family.”
“I shudder to think of the rest of you.”
I pin her against the wall and kiss her long and thorough. I kiss her until her nails dig into my shoulders and her leg lifts, wrapping high around my hip. That’s her I want you so bad signal. I bite her earlobe and give it a tug. “I bend the rules when it suits me. I don’t break them.”
She’s quiet as I meet her eyes. I study her for a moment. She’s definitely turned on but still worried about us. In that moment, I know what she really needs. The key to Becca isn’t flowers, it’s planning.
I hold her jaw. “I made a plan to spend time with you, and I followed the steps to make it happen.”
“Con,” she says urgently, lifting her hips.
I slide my hand between us, stroking her. Within moments, she’s rocking against me, head thrown back, her grip on my shoulders loosening. Her knees buckle, and I shift her to my front, letting her lean against me, the water running over both of us. I cup her breast, rolling and tugging her nipple while I stroke her, increasing the pace. She’s chanting my name, her hips lifting to my rhythm, seeking more of my touch. I love her responses, love her sexy noises. She jerks and then goes off with a sharp cry. I let her ride it out, and then she turns and kisses me urgently, trying to climb my body.
I know what she needs. It’s what I need too. I grab the condom I left on the counter and rip it open. “Planning,” I tell her.
“Yes,” she practically purrs. “Good planning.”
She grabs for me the moment I’ve got it on, and I boost her up, taking her against the wall. “Yes!” she hisses as I drive deep.
I still, trying to regain control. She rocks her hips, grabbing my ass and trying to make me move. “Bec,” I say, holding her jaw. “Slow.”
I thrust slow and deep, wanting it to last. She kisses me urgently, her hands roaming everywhere, her hips lifting to meet every thrust. Oh God, it feels too good. I still and slide a hand between us, stroking her. She goes wild in my arms, writhing against me. I clamp a hand on her hip, holding her in place. Then I kiss her and that’s all it takes. She moans into my mouth, her release squeezing me rhythmically. I let go, pounding into her, driving on and on to oblivion. It crashes into me, an explosion of pleasure that saps my strength. I sag heavily against her.
“Wonderful man!” she exclaims.
I laugh softly. She’s so happy after an orgasm, even more so after multiple orgasms. It makes me always want to give her more.
Her fingers run through my hair and she kisses my cheek. “I got you good. What does that mean?”
I lift my head. “I think you know. It’s the same way I got you.”
She gets serious, searching my face. “We can’t screw this up.”
I swallow hard. I understand what’s at stake, and I’m fully aware I’m the one who pushed for us. If she loses her job because of me, not only will I never forgive myself, she’ll never forgive me either. The math is simple—end of her job equals the end of us. It’s a calculated risk. But what was the alternative? Ignore the best thing to ever happen to me? I couldn’t waste time when I finally met the woman I’ve been waiting my whole life to meet.
“We won’t screw up,” I say, gently lifting her off me and setting her in the spray.
“It must be so late,” she says, grabbing the soap. “I can’t be late.”
She quickly washes and leaves. I finish washing alone and turn off the water. There’s something special here, and I can only hope it doesn’t get ruined by the outside world. Here, just the two of us, things are perfect. For the first time in my life, I feel like I actually need a plan to keep things good. Usually I’d just say whatever happens, happens, but Becca and I, well, that’s too important not to be careful.
Becca
I’m back at the lectern, gearing up for my second class. I keep my eyes on my notes, ignoring Con as he strides in and heads to the back of the classroom. I only saw him in my peripheral vision, but I know that body—big and muscular enough to lift a tall woman. Don’t go there. My cheeks flush hot and I try to focus on anything else.
“Good morning, Ms. Edwards,” Mike says cheerfully, taking a seat in the front row. He’s wearing a pink button-down shirt and red cords with brown loafers. Pretty dressy for a Saturday morning class.
“Morning, Mike,” I say. “Please call me Rebecca.”
He stares at me, smiling. First order of business, encouraging everyone to attend Thursday night office hours. I do not want to sit through another hour-long Mike lecture. I’ll bribe them with cookies if I have to.
“Really enjoyed our discussion on Thursday,” Mike says, still smiling at me.
“Glad you got something out of it,” I say, smiling at the next few students who come in. I appreciate his enthusiasm, but I don’t want anyone to think I’m focusing too much attention on any one student.
Once everyone is seated, I say, “Good morning. I want to make sure you know you’re welcome at my office hours Thursday nights from seven to eight p.m. You don’t need to have a question, we can just talk shop. Anything I can help you with, whether it’s through my own connections or the school’s resources, I’m there for you. Plus, we’ll have fun. There’s homemade cookies.”
A few people laugh.
“Hey, I was there last time and there were no cookies,” Mike says good-naturedly.
“I forgot them.” I lift a finger and declare, “From here on out, there will be cookies. Chocolate chip cookies.”
“I’m there!” Mike says.
I catch Con’s eye in the back row, and one corner of his mouth lifts in a small smile. I smile back, a flutter in my stomach reminding me of last night and this morning. I tear my gaze away. Mike’s staring at me again, but this time his mouth’s in a flat line, looking peeved. Did he notice me smiling at Con?
I quickly focus on my notes. “Okay, reminder, your papers are due next week. This is your version of a case study for class discussion. It can be based on a company you previously worked for, currently work for, or just an area of interest to you. Please use last week’s case study as an example of format. I want to see background information, what’s not working, and some proposed solutions. We’ll discuss each one as a class. Now onto today’s topic: power and politics in organizations.”
I glance up and find everyone staring at their notebooks or laptops, fingers at the ready to record every word. Everyone except Con, who simply listens, his eyes intent on mine. Our gazes lock for an intense moment that makes my pulse race and a flash of heat rush through me. My body knows him, wants him, and it doesn’t care that I’m teaching. Shit.
I go back to my notes and launch into lecture mode, determined not to get sidetracked with any more long glances. I avoid his eyes for the rest of class. He doesn’t participate either. This bothers me, even though I’m sure he’s doing it to make me more comfortable. Participation is half the grade for class. I know he’s auditing, but he needs to meet class expectations for his own sake and the rest of the group’s too.
After class, I take my time getting my stuff together, hoping to catch him near the end of the line of students to talk to him without drawing attention to us. Mike comes up to ask m
e some questions, which I answer as quickly as I can, my eye on the door. I might catch up with Con on the subway, but maybe not. It was random that our timing worked out last week.
“I’m sorry, Mike,” I interrupt as he loops back on another point he made in class today. “I really need to go. We can talk again next week.”
“Or at office hours.”
“Sure, of course.”
He winks and points a finger gun at me. “It’s a date.”
I stiffen. I really hope he’s not getting the wrong idea. “It’s an extension of class,” I say firmly before heading out the door.
My students have dispersed, and I don’t see Con. I don’t know why it felt urgent to tell him he could participate in class, but it did, and I’m disappointed. I guess I needed the teacher talk to be in the teacher environment. I’m trying to keep Becca and Con separate from Rebecca and Connor. Hell, maybe I’m just kidding myself with these artificial boundaries. Maybe I had it right the first time. It’s foolish to let myself fall when my career’s at stake.
I turn the corner at the end of the hall and jump as a large man steps into my path.
“Hey, relax, it’s just me.” Con leans down to whisper in my ear, “I wanted to wait until everyone else had left to walk you out. You want to stop for coffee before heading back? Somebody kept me up most of the night.” He winks, his blue eyes twinkling, and I’m so tempted to throw my arms around him. He’s just so warm and so wonderful at making me feel good.
I glance around. There aren’t a lot of people nearby, but we’re still inside the building, so that means professional teacher boundaries are in order. “Yes to coffee. Let’s go.”
“You seemed pretty enthusiastic about office hours today. Does that include me?”
“Everyone in class is welcome.”
“Are there really going to be homemade chocolate chip cookies?”
I laugh. “Yes. It’s a bribe because I don’t want a repeat of last week.” I quietly fill him in on the boring hour I spent with Mike.
Rogue Angel (The Rourkes, Book 10) Page 9