“You’re damn right I do.” He put his arms around me and kissed the side of my neck. “Actually, I’d rather act out those dirty thoughts.”
“Hmm, but then I might not be able to be quiet.”
“I’ll make sure you stay quiet.” Before I could respond, he kissed me full-on. As soon as he did, need replaced playfulness. Enough bantering. We both knew what we wanted.
Moving slowly across the room to his bed, we left a trail of shoes and clothing behind us. He tried my bra strap. Tried again. He cursed in between kisses, so I reached back and unsnapped it with ease. Once it was loose, he slid it down my arms and dropped it aside. Then he cupped my breast, running the pad of his thumb back and forth across my nipple. When I released a soft moan, his kiss deepened. Intensified. A hand on the back of my neck held me close to him, but I wasn’t going anywhere, not when he kissed me like that.
A low growl emerged from his throat, vibrating against my lips, and he pulled me even closer. This long, desperate kiss kept us from making more than the softest of sounds, but it was self-defeating: The more we kissed like this, the more aroused we became, and the less either of us would be able to stay quiet.
Breaking that kiss didn’t help, especially not when Connor leaned me up against the bed and pressed his cock into my hip. He made matters worse when he gathered my hair in one hand and swept it over my shoulder while he kissed the other side of my neck. His hand stroked my hair once before continuing down to my chest and there it paused to tease my nipple again.
Our eyes met, and his darted toward the bed, then back to mine. No words were needed. We got into bed and quickly picked up where we’d left off.
Though he kissed and touched me just the same as he had a moment ago, I was coming unglued. We weren’t just fooling around and teasing each other. We were in his bed. All he had to do now was put on a condom. Then I could have him, and I could find out just how difficult it would be to stay quiet with him deep inside me.
Connor wasn’t in any hurry, though. As soon as his hand left my breast, starting a slow, gentle downward motion, I knew what he had in mind, and I could barely breathe. His fingers crested my thigh, then slipped between my legs, gently parting them. Two fingers slid inside me and he pressed the heel of his hand against my clit, circling gently with each slow, beckoning stroke.
“Jesus, Connor…” I sucked in a breath. “That’s—”
“Shh,” he whispered, kissing the underside of my jaw while his fingers continued teasing me.
“I can’t stay quiet when you’re doing that.”
“Do you want me to stop?”
Yes. Wait, no. Don’t… I… I can’t think when you breathe on me like that… and touch me like that… and…
He grinned against my neck. “Just tell me to stop and I will.”
“Don’t you dare.”
A breath of laughter tickled my skin. “Then you’ll just have to stay quiet.”
“I… can’t…”
“You can. We have to,” he murmured beneath my ear. “So they don’t hear all the things I’m doing to you.” His fingers made one long, slow stroke over my tingling G-spot before slipping out to tease my clit.
I bit back a whimper that might very well have become something much louder. I wanted him to stop teasing me and let me come, but if he did, staying quiet would be out of the question. And he was doing it on purpose, using his mouth and fingers to orchestrate unbearable levels of frustration.
“I love all the sounds you make,” he whispered in my ear, “but I want them all to myself.” Amusement added a lilt to his voice, almost masking the unsteadiness that announced his own waning control. “I know it’s hard to stay quiet. God only knows when you touch me, it’s hard not to let the whole damned city know about it.”
The whimper escaped this time, but he muffled my voice with a deep kiss before it got too loud. His fingers slipped into my pussy again, this time staying there, moving back and forth across my G-spot while the heel of his hand pressed against my clit. My hips pushed back, moving with his hand, seeking more as every touch and tingle became more intense than the last. Only his kiss kept me from crying out, and just when I reached the very precipice of control, his mouth left mine. Before I could protest, he spoke, making matters even worse.
“I’ve been waiting all day to hear you come,” he said, his lips brushing mine. “But since I can’t” —a little harder. A little faster— “I’ll just have to settle for feeling you come.”
And just before I came, he kissed me again, the taste of his mouth simultaneously keeping me silent and driving me over the edge. Since I couldn’t cry out, the energy that would have been released in my voice flooded my veins instead, intensifying my orgasm, nearly levitating my body off the bed while Connor held me and kissed me and just. Wouldn’t. Stop.
When it became too much, I searched blindly for his hand, finding and grasping his forearm. As soon as I did, he stopped, and I finally managed to draw a breath.
“Condom,” I whispered.
He kissed me again, then reached over me, but the drawer was too far away.
“I’ll get it,” I said.
“I hope you don’t think I’ll keep my hands off you while you do.”
“Be my guest.” I winked, then rolled onto my side and reached for the nightstand. As I did, he ran his hand over my hip and down my leg. With his fingertips drifting up the back of my thigh, the simple task of fishing a condom out of the drawer suddenly became herculean, something almost too complicated for my mind and fingers. I finally managed to get one free, though, but when I tried to roll onto my back, he stopped me with a gentle hand on my hip. Then his body was against my back, his hard cock so, so close to my pussy.
“Stay just like this,” he whispered, kissing behind my ear. The hand on my hip moved to my elbow and slid down to my wrist. He gently freed the condom from my fingers. “Don’t. Move.”
“I won’t.”
“Good.” He kissed the back of my shoulder, then shifted slightly. Foil tore. I bit my lip when a preemptive shudder nearly made me moan. Then, with his knee, Connor nudged mine forward, bending it just slightly while he guided his cock to me.
He pushed into me slowly. Even though he could only go so deep, this angle was perfect. The head of his cock slid back and forth across my G-spot, and I had to dig my teeth into my lower lip as every stroke made silence a little less possible.
“My God, you are so fucking tight like this,” he murmured. “You feel incredible. Oh God…” His voice shook, edging toward a deep groan.
“Shh,” I whispered. “We have to stay… oh my God… we…”
“Fuck, I can’t,” he said in a hoarse whisper. “You just feel too damned—” Stubble grazed my shoulder when he buried his face against my neck. A moan resonated across my skin. Another, this time louder.
“Connor,” I whispered. “We can’t—”
“I know, but I…” Trembling, he sucked in a breath, and I wondered if he was about to lose it.
“Connor,” I said, trying to keep him here. “Don’t—”
“Oh… God…” He moaned and his cock pulsed inside me. In that moment, I discovered that there existed few things in this world that were sexier than Connor releasing a hot, shuddering breath of near-silent surrender into my hair.
He held on for dear life until the last tremor had come and gone. Slowly, he loosened his grasp on my hip. Then he sighed and let his hand drift up between my breasts.
“And I thought I’d have trouble staying quiet,” I said.
He chuckled. “I should have known I wouldn’t be able to.”
“You managed.”
Another warm breath of laughter. “Another few seconds, and Evan and Robin would have heard exactly how good your pussy feels.”
I shivered.
Nuzzling the back of my shoulder, he said, “If you stay the night, I’ll buy you breakfast in the morning.”
“Hmm,” I said. “I think you just want me in your
bed so you can take advantage of me during the night.”
“So is that a yes?”
“Do you promise to take advantage of me?”
“At every possible opportunity.”
“Then yes.”
Chapter Eleven
Just as he promised, Connor took me to breakfast the next morning. The restaurant was a few blocks away from his apartment, so we walked. My hips ached furiously, especially after we’d woken up in the middle of the night for more, and I figured the walk would do them some good. I got the impression Connor was also feeling the effects of another hot night together, especially since he didn’t walk quite as fast as he usually did. I might have blamed that on politeness, thinking he’d slowed his pace on my account—and knowing him, that was probably a factor as well—but the occasional wince or pause to twist a crick out of his back suggested otherwise. He also hadn’t bothered to put in his contacts, wearing his thin-framed glasses instead.
On the way, I couldn’t help but notice the vast and varied array of restaurants nearby: Indian, Thai, a Russian deli, at least three coffee shops.
“Could you have gotten a place any closer to all these restaurants?” I laughed on our way up the sidewalk.
He chuckled. “Why do you think I got an apartment here? I think I’ve been to every restaurant within a six block radius at least a dozen times.”
“Must be nice,” I said. “I seem to have gotten a place on the ‘dorm food and takeout’ end of the U-district.”
“Pity. There’s a lot of good food to be had in that area.” He slipped an arm around my waist and kissed my cheek. “But if you like places like this, you’re more than welcome to hang around my apartment.” I glanced at him and he winked.
“Are you suggesting you want me to stay the night more often?”
“As long as you promise to do everything you did last night,” he said.
“Likewise.”
“Deal.”
We exchanged grins and kept walking. When we rounded the corner, a Vietnamese restaurant came into view.
“You’re walking distance from a Phở place?” I clicked my tongue. “That’s it, I’m never leaving your apartment.”
He laughed. “You like Phở, then?”
“Are you kidding? I love it.”
“Good to know,” he said. “We’ll have to go there sometime. That place is great.”
“I’m going to hold you to that.”
He smiled. “Good. Because I fully intend to follow through with it.” He pulled me a little closer. “Assuming you don’t mind seeing me again.”
“Don’t mind?” I shot him an incredulous look and laughed. “After last night?”
“Glad I made an impression.”
“Very much so,” I said. “Just let me know when and where.”
“Hmm, how about my place, as soon as humanly possible?”
“I think I can swing that.”
“Good.” He yawned. “Thank God this place has some strong coffee. I think I need it.”
“You’re not the only one.”
“I suppose we could have slept in,” he said. “It’s only, what, nine thirty?”
I looked at my phone. “Thereabouts. But staying in bed would have meant, well, staying in bed.”
“Which is a bad thing because…?”
“Well, you did promise to buy me breakfast.”
He gestured dismissively. “This place serves breakfast all day.”
“Then what the hell are we doing out of bed?” I instantly clapped my hand over my mouth, my cheeks on fire when I realized I’d said it quite a bit louder than I’d intended.
He snorted with laughter. “Listen, I know my roommate’s out of earshot now, but—”
“Connor.”
“That shade of red looks great on you, by the way.”
“Shut up.”
He laughed. A moment later, we stopped in front of a small café. He held the door open, then put his hand on the small of my back when I walked past. Our playful banter continued through breakfast and countless cups of coffee. Eventually, the waitress just left a pot of coffee on the table, which we went through in fairly short order.
After he finished another cup, Connor glanced at his watch and cursed under his breath. “I’d probably better let you go.”
I looked at my phone and nodded, ignoring the disappointment sinking in my gut. “Yeah, I should probably get to work.”
“On a Sunday?”
“No rest for the wicked,” I said. “I’m allowed to take the weekends off, but I’ve got three horses that have to be worked today, or they’re going to be hell on wheels tomorrow.”
“Sounds like you have your hands full. I’ve got my thesis defense coming up. I didn’t get a damned thing done yesterday, but I do need to work on it today.”
“Guess we’ll both have our hands full today, won’t we?”
“Yeah, I guess we will.” To the waitress, he said, “Check, please?”
After he’d paid for breakfast, we left the café and walked back to his apartment. Standing beside my car, we let a goodbye kiss turn into several, and each felt less like “goodbye” than the last.
Eventually, Connor said, “God, I wish you could stay a bit longer.”
“Well, I could stay a bit longer…”
He stroked my hair and smiled. “And you and I both know we’d be at it until the sun went down if we got started.”
“That’s a bad thing?”
“It is if we have anything else we need to get done.”
I trailed a fingertip across the back of his neck, making him shiver when I said, “My priorities are suddenly shifting.”
“Are they, now?”
“They are.”
“Won’t all those horses be hell on wheels tomorrow if you don’t work them?”
I smiled. “Probably. But I can handle them. Question is, can you handle me if you let me go too long without another night like last night?”
“You dirty, dirty tease,” he growled, pulling me into another kiss that said anything but “goodbye”. When he broke that kiss, he rested his forehead against mine and exhaled.
“I guess I should go,” I said.
“I know.” He paused. “Now, I know this is going to keep me from getting anything done today, but it’s the only way we’re ever going to go anywhere. Do you have any plans tonight?”
“What if I don’t?”
“Could I talk you into making some plans?”
I shrugged. “I think I could be persuaded.”
He pursed his lips for a second. “Tell you what, I’ll let you go for now. We can both get everything done that we need to do, and then I’ll call you later this afternoon. Maybe around five?”
“I should be done with the horses by then. Might be closer to six or seven, though.”
“Works for me.” He smiled and kissed me, lightly this time. “Just in case you’re still working, instead of calling, I’ll send a Connorgram.”
I laughed. “A Connorgram?”
“A text.” He winked.
“And why do I get the feeling that a ‘Connorgram’ is going to be dirtier than a normal text message?”
He trailed a fingertip up the side of my neck. “You already know me far, far too well, my dear.”
~ * ~
Xena wasn’t my favorite horse to ride, but at least she was in a pliable mood today. She took the jumps with minimal resistance. Her lead changes were right on the mark, even if she did swish her tail and pin her ears when she did it. She only refused three jumps, which was pretty darned good for her.
After clearing three jumps with perfect form, I slowed her to a trot, then a walk, and patted her neck while I let her catch her breath.
There. At least this ride’s out of the way. Xena’s sour demeanor aside, I wasn’t overly fond of jumping anyway. I would have been perfectly content to ride dressage horses and nothing else, but training jumpers was part of my contract. It was my experience with them
that got me this job over another dressage trainer who’d never jumped, so I couldn’t complain.
When I was done with Xena, I rode Jester just to give myself a break from the more difficult creatures. He and Calypso were always good for clearing my head, especially when the next horse on my list was Dante, the ex-racehorse that would be the death of me. I groaned to myself while I led Jester down the aisle to put him away. As much as I enjoyed challenging project horses, Dante had the two-pronged obstacles of two years on the track and a year with an abusive trainer. Not only did I have to undo all of his racing training, but he was scared of his own shadow, anything that moved and anything that didn’t move.
“Challenging” didn’t even begin to describe him.
With as tired as I was, working with Dante was going to be interesting, but he’d already had one day off this week. Worse came to worse, I’d keep this session fairly simple. A few trotting and cantering circles. Some half-halts. Some—
“Oh Christ,” I muttered.
Gina, Dante’s owner, stood beside his door with her back to me. I’d forgotten she was coming to watch him today. So much for a simple lesson.
“Hey Gina,” I said.
She turned and offered a half-hearted smile. “Hey Dani.”
“What’s up?”
She sighed, scratching Dante’s forehead. “I was just thinking about whether or not I’m wasting my time with him.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know.” She stroked the side of his muzzle. “I’m wondering if I should even bother doing dressage with him.”
“He’s got potential, Gina,” I said, ignoring Jester tugging at my shirt like a toddler trying to get his mother’s attention. “It’s just going to take some time. No matter what discipline you want to use him for, we still have to undo all the poor training he had before.”
“Do you think he has potential, though?” she asked. “It just seems like it’s always two steps forward and three steps back with him.”
“I know,” I said. “But between the bad training and the abuse, that’s just par for the course. He’s come a long way.”
“Really?”
I nodded. “Yeah, he—” I paused when Jester pushed his head against me, nearly knocking me off-balance. “Jester, Mommy’s talking. Do you mind?” He looked at me with those big eyes. Puppy dog eyes had nothing on his “who, me?” look.
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