Not smart, given he had no idea if he could fully trust her. Charlie wasn’t the prick that had misrepresented his mom, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t do whatever was necessary to make her story stand out. If she dragged his personal life into the interview, even unintentionally, he’d never forgive that.
“You’re thinking awfully hard this morning,” Charlie whispered, catching him unaware, his unfocused attention having dropped to her bare shoulder. With a gentle touch, she brushed the hair off his forehead. “I was sort of hoping you’d be a little more relaxed today.”
He took her hand and kissed it.
“I’m very relaxed.”
“Really?” She raised her eyebrows and snuggled closer. “You feel a little stiff.”
And getting stiffer by the second. He had zero control around this woman. “We should probably do something about that.”
“Probably.” Her soft morning gaze moved to his mouth.
He let go of her hand and cupped her cheek, slid his thumb across her lower lip. “But I’m already late. I need to get downstairs to help with some of the last-minute work.”
“Duty calls?”
“It does.” His team had worked hard the past eighteen months to maintain the hotel’s authenticity and architectural integrity, to keep its sense of place among a historic American landscape. It was no secret that Connor was a history nerd and he hoped the Buena Vista, with its tales of ghost stories, celebrities, and scandal, would once again entertain and appeal to young and old alike.
Getting back to task also meant a chance to get his thoughts in order. Charlie had given him no reason not to trust her, and the more time they spent together, the more attached he grew. “Feel free to check out the hotel and talk to the staff,” he said slipping out of bed. “And I’m happy to give you an up-close look at what we’re doing.”
When she didn’t answer, he glanced over his shoulder. Then cleared his throat.
Her attention jumped from his ass to his face. “Sorry, what did you say?”
“I said—”
She sat up, letting the sheet fall to her waist. And damn if she wasn’t the most gorgeous thing with her creamy skin, pert breasts, and mussed hair.
He moaned like a guy totally whipped and stalked back to the bed where he climbed on top of her.
“Connor.” She giggled and wiggled beneath him. Her arms went around his neck. “What are you doing?”
“Forgetting the time.” He kissed her and didn’t leave until they’d both had their fill.
…
“Hands in the ten and two position, eyes on the road,” Goldilocks said and Connor’s dick jumped to the up position. He hadn’t thought she could get him any harder than he’d been the past two nights, her body fused with his in every position they could think of. But offering this on the desolate two-lane road off the main highway, the Hotel Buena Vista behind them, had him stiffer than steel.
Leaning over the center console, she undid his jeans and his erection sprang free. This was why she’d asked him to go commando today. His sexy, spunky reporter had actually planned something in advance. He grinned.
Then he groaned.
Her tongue licked his tip, and her hand gripped him at the base. She stroked him slow and gentle, her mouth following her hand, and Jesus Christ he was about to go off like a virgin. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and eased her head back.
“Problem?” she asked, looking up at him with the sultry sparkle in her eyes he’d come to learn meant she was just as turned on as he was.
“Just slowing things down, sweetheart.”
“Ready now?”
He put his hand back in the number two position. She put hers back on his throbbing cock and with a firm, confident hold, slid up and down. The small, sexy circles she blessed him with had him gripping the steering wheel.
When she added her mouth, murmured “mmm,” and pulled back to admire him before eagerly gobbling him up again, his ass lifted off the seat.
He slowed and took a turnoff. Charlie looked up.
“Something wrong?” She pushed back into her seat.
Mountains rose in the distance, fields of Big Bluestem—grass that grew to six feet tall with blue-green leaves—lay on either side of the uneven road. Connor dropped to five miles per hour and in a move that surprised him, drove onto the field.
“Uh, Connor, I didn’t know Audi’s could go off-road.”
He parked the car, pressed the button for the roof to fold back, and undid his seat belt. “It’s an emergency.”
Goldilocks giggled. She unfastened her belt and hopped onto her knees. “Yes, I can see”—she glanced down at his crotch—“that we’re in danger of a detonation. What’s the protocol in a situation like this, Mr. Environmentalist?”
“I’m afraid I have no choice but to advocate for release. Climb into the backseat and lift your dress, Miss Morgan.”
A moment of hesitation crossed her features and Connor wondered if maybe he’d overestimated Charlie’s boldness. She hadn’t been at all shy about her body and a quick glance of the area told him they had total privacy, but they were still outside and out in the open.
She climbed into the back next to the giant teddy bear.
He watched her lift the hem of her blue cotton T-shirt dress and gather it around her waist. She stayed on her knees and shared a coy smile over her shoulder. “Ready and oh so willing to receive.”
It took him one point seven seconds to have his hands on her hips, his mouth at her ear. “A bow? Are you trying to make these cheeks of yours even sweeter?” The tiny pink bow at the center of her G-string hit with a sexy, wholesome one-two punch.
“I only thought to make you crack a smile.”
He laughed. God, the best things came out of her mouth. He brushed his upturned lips against her neck. “Mission accomplished.”
“Connor,” she said breathlessly.
“Yeah, baby?” He kissed her shoulder while one hand slid down to the tiny scrap of material covering her and the other hand moved inside her dress to cup her breast.
“I am really turned on.”
Yes she was, her nipple tight and hard, the spot between her legs wet as he slipped his fingers underneath the cotton. “What should we do about that?”
She wiggled her ass against his erection and moaned when he pushed down the material of her bra to palm her bare flesh. When he slowly pressed one, then two fingers inside her she moaned and said, “That’s a good start.”
He’d never experienced responses like hers before. It had him so hot to be inside her he pushed down his pants, moved aside her panties, and thrust into her warm, welcome channel.
“Yes!” she cried, one hand gripping the back of the seat.
He groaned and plunged deeper. His hands molded to the curve of her waist as he pushed into her in a slow, thorough rhythm. She had his cock in such a tight hold he was already about to go off. “I want to hear you come,” he whispered.
She exhaled unsteadily. “Keep doing what…oh God!”
In response he thrust harder, done with slow and steady. She met every drive, shifting restlessly with each stroke. He reached down and rubbed his thumb over her clit.
“Oh, Connor,” she shouted. Then, “Ohhhhh, Connor!”
Never, he thought. He’d never get tired of feeling her unravel. Of hearing her pleasure as she rode the waves of an orgasm. His body went taut; his heart hammered. Heat burned through him. He cradled her against him, her slickness so unbelievably sweet that he couldn’t hang on a second longer. With a low groan, he spilled himself inside her.
Oh, shit.
She let go of her dress and leaned her head back onto his shoulder once he’d stilled. “That was…”
Amazing.
“Amazing.”
What this woman did to him had him losing his mind. He kissed the side of her head. “I was so caught up, though, that I…” He’d never in his life forgotten protection before. “I forgot a condom.”
Her eyes found his. “It’s okay, I’m on the pill. And I’m healthy.”
“Me, too,” he said in relief. He wrapped his arms tighter around her, unwilling to let her go just yet.
The Beatles sang out from the front seat breaking into their blissful silence. He’d heard the ringtone a few times now and she always took the call privately.
“Guess we’d better hit the road.” He gently pulled out of her. They only had one more scheduled stop on the route before they reached Oklahoma City tomorrow.
“Probably a good idea.”
They fixed their clothes and crawled into the front seat. Before Connor turned the key in the ignition, Charlie leaned over and took his face in her hands. Her lips met his in a tender kiss that whipped his heart into frenzy again. Only this time the wild excitement had more to do with emotions than lust. She let go, gave a contented sigh, and put her seat belt on.
When they reached the main road, her cell rang the familiar tune again.
“You’re not going to answer it?” he asked.
“I’ll just text a reply that I’ll call back later.” She pulled the phone out of her bag.
“So how did a girl who wants to write children’s books end up working for an online outdoor magazine run by a dishonest prick?”
She flinched at his question, and he regretted asking it. He hadn’t meant to sound condescending.
“Sorry. It just doesn’t make sense to me. You’re smart, personable, easygoing, and Thomas Beckett is a relentless ass who refuses to admit when he’s wrong. Why not work for a children’s publication like Highlights?” His sisters all subscribed to the magazine and he’d had to read it cover to cover with his oldest niece.
Charlie let the phone sit in her lap and looked out the passenger window.
“Hey,” he put his hand on the back of her neck, “Ashley Morgan, queen of talking cannot clam up on me now.”
Slowly, she rolled her head so he could look her in the eye. She blinked as he pulled his arm back. The high they’d just shared a few minutes ago had vanished, her gaze flat.
Something he’d said had definitely struck the wrong note.
…
“Ashley Morgan’s not…” My real name.
She needed to blurt the truth out right this very instant, but she couldn’t get her voice to cooperate. The back of her throat itched. Her stomach cramped. Ashamed for waiting so long to tell him, especially given everything they’d shared the past several days, she worried he wouldn’t forgive her little fib.
“Not…?” he prodded.
“In a talkative mood for a change.” This was so stupid. Just tell him! But she knew in her gut that if he found out she’d lied to him, he’d immediately end things both personally and professionally. Thomas Beckett is a relentless ass…
So she chose the selfish route and chewed the inside of her cheek rather than come clean. He’d been nothing but honest with her, sharing more than what she needed for the story. Stuff about his family, his adventures, his plans. And even though a name was a little thing, the more time that passed, the more significant it seemed. Because, she realized, Connor didn’t do anything lightly.
What would he think when she told him she’d taken Ashley’s place? That her friend was the star reporter and she was just a stand-in? What would he think when he discovered who her father was?
She wanted Connor to like her. She wanted him to really like her because she was falling for him. And with only twenty-four hours left until their time together ended, she wanted to enjoy them. The thought of never seeing him again made her heart pinch in the worst kind of way.
“Must be the awesome outdoor sex,” he said, giving her a wink.
The adorable and sexy tone of his voice screamed for her selfish self to get her lie off her chest.
“Must be. And, uh, I’ve got a little confession to make. I’m not…” Tell him the truth! She swallowed her guilt and cleared her throat. “To answer your question, I sort of fell into the job.” By birth.
Later. She’d tell him later—tomorrow when the interview officially ended.
“I take it your father approves?”
“He does,” she managed to get out. This assignment meant proving she had what it took to be a good reporter. And if she could convince her dad of that, she could convince him about other things, too. Mainly that she’d succeed in doing what she loved if given the chance.
“Has he seen your drawings?”
She squirmed in her seat. “He hasn’t actually. Has your dad seen any of the monuments you’ve worked on?”
Connor cut her a quick glance that lasted all of two seconds, but made her feel like crap for sounding so defensive and throwing an undeserved question back at him.
“I think that’s my cue to change the subject. You hungry?”
“I’m always hungry.”
“Yeah, I kind of noticed that.” He reached over, opened the glove box, and pulled out a Violet Crumble. “To tie you over.”
“No way. These are my favorite.” She accepted the candy bar and ripped right into the purple wrapper. “And I don’t eat them nearly enough given they’re hard to find. Mmm. Whoever invented honeycomb was a genius.”
“It’s the way it shatters that matters.”
“You did not just slogan me.”
“I did.” He grinned and she seriously thought she could stare at that face of his for eternity. “My buddy’s dad came up with it. Plus it’s written on the wrapper.”
“Wanna bite?” She extended her arm.
He wrapped his hand around hers and took one. “Thanks.”
“I don’t give bites to just anyone.” She settled back in her seat, the chocolate and morning sunshine that spilled into the car drawing her own smile while she chewed.
“You saying I’m special, Goldilocks?”
She whipped her head to the side. “What did you just call me?”
His mouth made an O and his eyes cinched shut for a second. “Goldilocks?” He asked, as if posing it as a question would make it okay.
It totally did. Besides “Charlie,” no one had ever given her another nickname and her parents rarely used any term of endearment.
“And how long have you been thinking of me as Goldilocks?”
“Since we met at the pool.”
“So before you knew my name?” She handed him the last bite of chocolate goodness.
He waved off the offer. “Before we even spoke.”
Her insides did a few cartwheels. He’d been checking her out while she slept on the lounge chair. And the fact that he had a “name” for her that had nothing to do with Ashley Morgan made her feel better about her lie. In his mind she was Charlie.
“I guess this means I’m special too.” The last bit of honeycomb slid down her throat. A delicious fullness stole over her that wasn’t entirely due to the chocolate.
“Let’s just say I haven’t nicknamed any of my other…friends.”
They merged onto the main highway, a black-and-white Route 66 sign catching the corner of her eye as they sped by it.
“Is that what we are? Friends?” The twirls low in her belly slowed, a twinge of disappointment settling there. He didn’t owe her more than that. She’d gotten physical with him because he made her feel safe. Treasured. Two things missing from the brief relationships she’d had lately. And two things, she realized, Connor might give without thought given his occupation. Protection was what he did.
“We are.” He picked up her hand and laced their fingers. “I don’t have a lot of close friends. People I trust.”
Her stomach turned into the pit of doom. Tell him the truth. Now.
“I had my doubts about doing this interview, but maybe not all reporters for Natural World deserve to be hung upside down over a pit of poisonous snakes.”
A shiver reached all the way down to his fingertips. She instinctively squeezed his hand. “Are you afraid of snakes?”
“Define afraid.”
Charlie held b
ack the girlish simper threatening to expose how cute she thought he was. Connor exuded confidence and authority and don’t-mess-with-me charm. So the thought of him frightened by a long, limbless reptile made him even more irresistible. “You feel the same about snakes that I feel about ghosts?”
“The next time you see a ghost are you running in the opposite direction as fast as you can?” he asked candidly.
“Oh yeah.”
“Then we feel the same way.”
“My own Indiana Jones,” spilled from her mouth before she could stop it. “I mean, just like Indiana Jones. Which really isn’t too far off, given what you do. Have you had to perform this run and hide very often?”
“It’s been a while.” He glanced down at their hands, still entwined.
“I guess you haven’t watched Snakes On A Plane?” She bit her bottom lip to keep from cracking herself up.
“Well, would you look at that.” He nodded to something up ahead, ignoring her.
She noted the billboard and then brought his hand to her mouth and kissed his knuckle. “That is so where we’re eating.”
His fathomless dark gray eyes sparkled. “It’s always something with you.”
“A good something,” she said, happy he held onto her hand as he exited the freeway.
Five minutes later they sat side by side in a booth at the Slippery Snake Diner and she couldn’t stop giggling. On the back of the menu were snake jokes. “What is the best thing about deadly snakes?” she asked.
Connor smiled at the waitress dropping off their drinks. “Thanks,” he said and the poor enamored woman almost spilled his orange juice right into his lap before spinning around and rushing back toward the kitchen.
“They’ve got poisonality,” Charlie said.
He rested his arm along the back of the booth without so much as cracking a smile, but did play with a strand of her hair. “Okay, Joke Girl, one more.”
His Million Dollar Risk Page 8