by Kendall Ryan
“Sorry I’m a little late. I had a meeting that seemed to drag on forever. How was my baby girl today?” he asks, setting his sleek leather briefcase on the counter and joining me on the floor.
This is what I love about Connor. Even in his dress pants and button-down shirt, he doesn’t think twice about crouching down on the carpet to play with his daughter. I’d be melting into a sappy sweet puddle if he weren’t so damn fun to look at.
I lick my lips and smile down at Marley. “She was an angel, as always. I already fed her. She’s just been waiting up for you.” We both have.
“How about I put her down, and you and I have a glass of wine on the couch. Did you eat? I can whip us up a quick dinner first.” Connor picks Marley up and cradles her in his arms. She’ll be too big to hold like that soon, and I can tell he’s trying to soak up every minute of it.
“You cook?” I stare at him with surprise all over my face. Sometimes he makes it too easy to tease him.
He leans in close to me, so his face is within a foot of mine. I can smell his cologne and practically feel his breath on my skin.
“I can boil water,” he says, “and they make really good jarred pasta sauce these days.”
I laugh, and the corners of his eyes crinkle. “Pasta sounds delicious.”
Connor stands and carries Marley to her bouncy seat near the kitchen, which he straps her into. My heart pounds while I wait for him to finish, and I decide to put a pot of water on the stove, rather than just stare at his backside.
When he joins me in the kitchen, he arches a playful brow. “I thought I was the one making you dinner.”
“You worked hard all day,” I say with a shrug. “I figured the least I could do was help.”
“You are helping. All the time. Don’t pretend like watching Marley isn’t hard work. I seriously don’t know what I’d do without you.”
My stomach drops. I choose not to remind him that I’m leaving in a few short weeks.
Instead, I give him a half smile and shrug again. “All right. Tell me about this jarred pasta sauce.”
Conversation flows easily between us as we double-team our dinner. I boil the pasta while Connor pours us some wine. When Marley fusses and wants to be held, Connor frees her from the bouncy seat and holds her with one arm, stirring cooking pasta with the other. I try to pretend that’s not totally dreamy.
It’s not long before we’re sitting on his couch, bowls of spaghetti in hand and wine on the coffee table in front of us. Marley plays with a stuffed pig on the floor.
I realize how silly it might sound, but this is the grown-up life I always pictured for myself. Pasta on the couch with my hubby, and our baby playing nearby . . . it’s perfect. A simple life, but one that feels comforting and somehow right.
I let out an involuntary moan when I take the first bite of food. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until we started cooking, and Connor wasn’t lying about that pasta sauce. I sneak a glance at him to see if he noticed the sound that escaped my throat, but if he did, there’s no trace of recognition on his face.
“So,” I say between bites, “tell me about this meeting of yours that kept you busy all afternoon.”
He shakes his head. “You don’t want to know. It was dumb. Number crunching, stuff like that.”
“Number crunching sounds important.”
“Not this kind. It was one of those meetings that could have easily been an email.”
I nod and study Connor’s profile, noting the hint of stubble that darkens his jaw. I wonder if kissing him would rub my skin raw. I wonder if his stubble would tickle between my thighs.
Geez. I have to pull it together.
Thankfully, Connor speaks before any other filthy thoughts can run through my brain.
“How was your day?” he asks. “Besides Marley.”
“Fine,” I say automatically. Then, after a moment’s pause, I add, “I talked to my sister while Marley was napping.”
“Where does she fall in the lineup?”
“Number two. She’s only a year younger than me. We’re close. We were practically inseparable growing up, until about high school when we started competing for everything. But we’re good now. It was nice to hear her voice.”
“Anything interesting to report?”
I take a sip of wine, studying Connor over the lip of the glass. “I told her about our date, actually. Well, sort of. I guess I just told her about you.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “Oh?”
I nod. “She was . . . not as enthusiastic as I’d hoped she’d be.”
“Oh.”
“Not because of you. You’re great. Unbelievably great. I had an amazing time with you, and I made that abundantly clear. She just felt the need to remind me that I’m leaving soon. Central America, six months, blah blah blah.”
My gaze drops to my lap. Why am I telling him all this? Suddenly, I don’t know why I can’t just shut up for once in my life.
“You had an amazing time?”
I look up to find a smile on his face. And not just any smile. The smile. The one that only comes out when he’s genuinely happy. The one that makes me turn into a useless pile of mush.
I nibble on my bottom lip, unable to speak. All I can do is nod.
“I did too.” He rests his arm on the back of the couch, and his fingertips graze my shoulder, sending shivers over my skin. “Let’s not worry about the future, okay? Let’s just take it one day at a time.”
I nod again and turn to face him. Connor reaches out and touches my chin. The gesture is so soft, and yet I can feel his touch deep in my core. I close my eyes, and he takes the bowl from my hands and places it on the table next to his.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” he says.
Before I can nod, he’s pulling me to him, gentle but firm, and his lips meet the soft skin of my throat. I gasp, and he groans into my neck.
“Never stop making those noises.”
Connor traces his tongue over my skin, teasing me. I can’t help the sigh that leaves my parted lips, and he tips my head back to expose more of me to him.
Finally, his mouth finds mine and our lips part, tongues tangling. It’s only a second before he’s pulling back. Marley makes a soft cooing sound from her spot on the blanket at our feet.
“I’d better put her to bed. Can you . . . stick around for a little bit?”
Breathless, I nod.
“Perfect. Wait here.”
As he rises and scoops up Marley, I wave and blow her a little kiss. She looks drowsy already. This shouldn’t take long.
Connor carries her toward the stairs and then stops and looks over his shoulder at me. “Will you heat her a bottle while I get her into her pajamas and a fresh diaper?”
Knowing that tag-teaming this effort will reduce our time apart, I give him an enthusiastic nod. “How many ounces?”
“Five. And thanks, Jess.”
Jess. It’s a nickname that’s normally reserved for family, but it feels so natural to have Connor use it too.
I get to work while he disappears with Marley upstairs.
In a few minutes, I find them sitting together in her rocking chair. He’s cradling her in his arms and whispering sweet words to her. Her eyes are half-closed and she looks so comforted and adored by her daddy, my heart squeezes at the sight of them together.
I tiptoe into the room and hand him the bottle. When he brings it to her lips, she drinks quickly, her eyes now fully closed. We both watch her, enjoying this quiet, sweet moment. And in a few minutes, she’s done. When he lifts her, she burps once, and we both chuckle softly as he lays her down in the crib.
As we exit the room together, he takes my hand and gives it a tug. He leads me back to the couch without breaking our connection.
It’s quiet between us, and the moment is thick with anticipation. When Connor places a hand behind my neck and urges me closer, I bring my mouth to his once again.
We kiss deeply, quickly picking up right where we l
eft off before, and soon I’m panting with the need for more.
Suddenly, I realize I’m wearing too many clothes. He’s wearing too many clothes. We should fix that.
I reach for the hem of my blouse, but Connor beats me to it, pulling the fabric over my head. He sheds his shirt, baring his chest, and when I reach for him, he pulls me into his lap so I straddle him. With my knees on either side of his hips, I can feel his erection pressing into my thigh. He cradles my head in his hands, his eyes searching my face, scanning me with a fierceness that makes my panties wet.
I don’t care if I’m about to leave the country for six months. I don’t care what anyone else has to say about it. This is real, and this is right. And more than anything else, I want him.
When he kisses me, it’s fast and desperate, like we’ve been waiting to do this from the moment we met. His hands tangle in my hair, and I grind myself into his lap, causing a strangled groan to pour from his lips. My fingers find the cool metal of his belt buckle. I start to undo it, but he places a hand over mine to stop me.
“Not here,” he gasps out.
With one arm firmly wrapped under my ass, Connor stands and starts walking us to his bedroom. I squeal and grasp tightly around his shoulders, placing kisses against the crook of his neck. His cock nudges into my belly with every step he takes, and by the time he closes the door behind us, I’m hungry for more of him. Hungry for a closeness we haven’t yet reached.
While I stretch out on his bed, he unbuckles his belt, and I shimmy out of my jeans. Soon, we’re both down to our underwear. We lock eyes, and he nods to my bra. I unhook it and toss it in the corner. His gaze moves to my panties. When I slip a finger under the waistband, he stops me, his hands on my hips, kissing my skin as he slowly exposes my center.
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he grunts.
I shift my hips, trying to move against him, but he gives me a mischievous grin and turns his face to kiss my inner thigh. I groan in frustration, and he chuckles into me. I want him so badly, it almost hurts. But there’s nothing better than the way he teases me.
“Tell me what you want.” Connor’s voice is firm, commanding, and it makes me want him even more.
I know that once we do this, there’s no going back. Our date was one thing, but this? This is different. Serious. Real. Pure, unbridled need. And I’ve never needed anything more in my life.
“Please,” I say softly. “I need you inside me.”
14
* * *
CONNOR
The air is humid with the heat of our bodies moving together in perfect time. I can’t tell which is driving me crazier—the brush of Jessa’s naked skin against mine, or the soft incoherent sighs that fall from her lips when I discover a new sensitive spot to caress with my tongue.
What makes it all the sweeter is that there’s no shortage of silky skin to explore and throaty gasps to elicit.
I taste her skin, and she drags her fingernails against my biceps. I bite my lip, a shiver racing down my spine. If I’m not careful, this is going to end a lot sooner than either of us would like.
Sex has never been like this before . . . so tender, like every microsecond matters. I finally know that it’s not because I haven’t slept with anyone in a while. I remember how that felt compared to this—like seeing the negative of a photo before witnessing the positive in brilliant color. I know now that it’s Jessa that makes all the difference. Because when I press forward and sink inside her, it feels an awful lot like coming home.
I rock my hips and she cries out, parting her legs for me and inviting me to sink even deeper. Goddamn.
All that cliché nonsense about finding a girl who fits you like a glove? Well, turns out it isn’t nonsense after all. Each stroke in and out of her hot, tight pussy feels like trying on my second skin.
I lean down to kiss her lightly on her pink, swollen lips. Her eyes flutter open, finding mine. Emotion crashes through me, and I press my lips to hers in a sweet kiss.
“S-so good,” Jessa whispers, her brows knitting together. She reaches up, dragging her fingertips over my cheekbones and stubble.
“I know, baby. I know . . .”
“I want more,” she says softly, arching her back just so and prompting my hips with her knees. “Faster. Please.”
I obey without another word, quickening my pace. She throws her head back on the bed with a moan, her hair billowing across the sheets like a crown. I tangle my fingers in it, leaning on one elbow for the leverage I need to drive myself into her. All at once, when my shaft is buried deep within her, she locks me inside, wrapping her legs tightly around my hips.
“Yes, there, yes.” She gasps against my mouth, biting down on my lower lip.
Just the sound of her desperation nearly does me in. I pump harder now, giving her exactly what she wants, exactly where she wants it.
It’s only a few seconds before Jessa shudders, an orgasm ripping through her from head to toe, trembling around me. The sensation is enough to cut the cord on my own control, and pleasure shoots through me like a goddamn bullet.
This woman is gonna kill me.
As pleasure overtakes me, I gasp out her name. And a second later, I crumple over her in a heap. From beneath me, Jessa breathes deeply, a hearty laugh filling the space where her needy moans were just moments before.
I lift myself onto my elbows to meet her eyes. “Are you crying?”
“I guess I am.” She giggles, wiping away a stray tear. “That was intense.”
“Good intense? Or bad intense?” My stomach twists in a knot. I sure fucking hope good intense, considering I’m still inside her at this point.
“Very good.” Jessa nods, and I sigh in relief. “The best kind of good.”
“The best, huh?” I give her a smug grin.
“Absolutely,” she murmurs happily.
A familiar warmth grows inside my chest, but as much as I’d love to try for round two, I think we both deserve a break. I press a kiss to Jessa’s forehead before slowly extracting myself and getting up to dispose of the condom. When I turn back around, she’s watching me, lying on her side in a way that displays all her irresistible curves.
I’ve never been more excited to get back in bed.
Rejoining her, I pull the sheet over our bodies and tuck her against my chest. She nestles into the crook of my shoulder, one arm sliding up my pecs to rest lazily against the side of my neck. Almost in unison, we sigh in contentment. The timing is so good that soon, we’re both laughing again.
Goddamn, have I ever laughed with anyone this much?
“Maybe this goes without saying,” I murmur against the top of her head with a smile, “but you’re invited to stay the night if you want.”
“I do want.”
She sighs, nuzzling her face into my neck and punctuating the statement with a little nip. I chuckle, tightening my hold on her.
If I could hold her like this always, feeling the steadiness of her heartbeat against my chest, you know damn well that I would. It’s so tempting to imagine a world in which I could press PAUSE and preserve this moment for good.
But the reality is that Jessa is leaving me any day now. It’s the way it has to be.
It’s the last thought I remember before falling asleep, and the first thought I wake up to.
I roll onto my side, blinking away my grogginess as morning light streams in through the window.
Jessa sleeps soundly on the pillow next to mine, her legs pressing against me, the sheet completely thrown aside. The sight of her naked form fills me with an intense yearning. Not just for sex. For her. To be with her. To wake up with her like this every morning.
Get a grip, Connor.
With a sigh, I put more distance between us. I need coffee. And I’m sure she’ll appreciate a cup too.
I hoist myself out of bed, shifting the mattress with the idiocy of a bachelor who’s accustomed to sleeping alone. Luckily, Jessa is dead to the world, a soft snore reassuring me that she’s a deep
sleeper and a little noise won’t disturb her. The room is cooler now, so I grab a blanket from the end of the bed and gently guide it over her sleeping frame. Then I slip on a pair of basketball shorts and a hoodie and head for the kitchen.
The gurgle and hiss of coffee brewing does nothing to distract me from the brewing of my own thoughts. Just last night, I told her that I’d be down to take things one day at a time. But one day turns into a week, and a week turns into a month, and before long, Jessa is gone and out of my life for God knows how long. The thought is sobering.
Will she want to come back to Chicago after her international adventures? Or will she write me off as a summer fling and jump-start her life somewhere else? Maybe she’ll meet someone else while she’s away. Someone with a do-gooder heart like hers, and fall desperately in love with him.
The coffee maker beeps quietly, drawing me back to the present where there’s a one-of-a-kind woman sleeping in my bed right now. Not in some foreign land, but here with me. And I have to make the most of my time with her before it’s too late.
I fill two matching mugs and head back toward the bedroom, softly pushing the door open with my foot. She’s now cozied up in the center of my bed, her hair catching hints of sunlight and her cheeks rosy with warmth. I set the mugs on the bedside table, swearing when a drop of scalding liquid leaks onto my thumb.
Caretaker that she is, it’s my discomfort that wakes Jessa. Her eyes open immediately, wide with concern. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” I sigh, annoyed with myself. “I just spilled a little. Careful, it’s hot.”
She follows my gesture toward the twin cups of coffee, the serious expression on her face melting away into a warm, grateful smile.
“How did you know I take my coffee black?” she asks, cocking her head.