She stared intently into his eyes, her own suspiciously damp.
‘OK.’ With an adorable sniffle, she added, ‘You gonna feed me or what, sugar?’
Chapter Eleven
Dinner was phenomenal. The Caesar salad was crisp and tangy, the ziti was baked to perfection, the rolls were crusty and warm, and the wine was bold and fruity. The melody of flavours was comforting, especially given the way her senses were in a riot.
Dessert was warming in the oven. Connor had admitted he didn’t know how to bake, so the apple pie was from the local bakery. She didn’t mind. So far, the man had far exceeded all her expectations.
The conversation had flowed easily. He had filled her in on the details of how he’d come to be in River Rock and gotten the job at Pinewood and she’d talked about deciding to become a teacher. She didn’t tell him about her current troubles with the dean, though. Something she couldn’t pinpoint held her tongue.
She was still finding her way with Connor and she was going to take it slow. The revelation about his job had thrown her, but mostly because it was a colossally stupid thing to lie about. But when he’d told her about the reaction of his past girlfriend she’d been unable to hold it against him.
She, of all people, understood shame.
‘Are you happy, Connor?’ The question came out of nowhere, surprising even her.
‘What do you mean?’ His brow furrowed.
‘I mean are you happy with where you are in life? You have a tremendous talent –’ she waved her hand in the direction of his artwork ‘– yet you aren’t doing anything with it.’
‘I don’t know if I’m happy –’ his brow furrowed even deeper ‘– but I’m not unhappy. My art …’ He ran his hand through his hair. Something, she’d begun to realise, he did when he was uncomfortable. ‘It’s personal. It’s not for the world to see. It’s for me.’
‘Yes, but why?’
He looked nonplussed, ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean, why keep it to yourself? It’s gorgeous and I think people would respond to it.’
‘Thanks, but I have no interest in trying to make a career in the art world. It’s full of critics who like nothing better than to tear you down so they can feel good at your expense.’
He sipped his wine and looked off in the distance as he spoke. She got the sense that there was more, but she certainly wasn’t going to push him to reveal things. He might turn the tables on her and she had too many things she didn’t want to share yet.
The aroma of warm apples filled the apartment and Connor rose to serve dessert. He surprised her by coming back with only one dish.
‘Nothing for me?’ she quipped. ‘Did I anger you?’ She was only half joking.
‘Nope, you didn’t make me mad. And –’ he sat next to her on the sofa ‘– this is for us both.’
‘Really?’
His nearness was doing funny things to her pulse. She could smell the scent of his soap as he took the wineglass from her hands and set it on the coffee table. He took up a bite of pie and the ice cream that accompanied it and fed it to her.
The taste of warm apples and silky ice cream exploded across her tongue. He took a bite of his own, and then fed her another bite. It was incredibly sensuous to be fed by him. It was a first, and she had to admit she liked it.
‘Why are you doing this?’ she asked.
‘You shouldn’t question a man when he’s trying to be romantic.’
‘Is that what this is?’
‘Absolutely,’ he said and smiled. ‘Don’t you think it’s romantic?’
‘To be fed by you?’ She raised an eyebrow.
‘To have me in your mouth the same way you’re in mine.’
Warm grey eyes locked with hers and she realised what he meant. A burst of heat shot through her body and she surprised herself by saying, ‘Do you want to be in my mouth, Connor?’
Who in the hell had snuck into her body and put this sexy stranger in her place? Bridget almost apologised until she realised that Connor’s eyes had darkened with desire and his jeans were now very tight across the groin.
A sense of feminine power ran through her at her effect on him. It was a heady feeling and she wanted more. Taking the bowl from him, she set it on the table. And … was at a complete loss as to how to proceed. She’d never been in this position before.
The man always took the lead in every relationship she’d ever had. She’d just suffered through it. She had no idea how to be the sexy siren that left a man begging for more.
The bubble of eroticism she’d been in burst as fast as it had come on, leaving her feeling embarrassed. Clenching her hands in her lap, she couldn’t meet his eyes.
‘Connor, I’m sorry. I should probably go.’ She lurched up from the couch and scooped her purse off the table. Before she could get too far, Connor grabbed her hand, stopping her retreat.
‘Bridget, what is it?’
She turned to face him and felt instant remorse for the obvious worry on his face.
‘I just feel so stupid, Connor.’ The honesty of her reply surprised even her. ‘I’m not this sexy, vampy type and I don’t know how to seduce anyone.’
His eyes widened in surprise before a slow grin spread across his face.
‘Is that what you want, Bridget? To seduce me?’ His voice had gone low and husky, doing funny things to her insides.
‘I don’t really know, Connor.’ She took a deep breath, feeling the need to fortify herself for her next words. ‘I only know that I respond physically to you in a way that frightens me. It makes me feel out of control and I don’t like that.’
A small frown marred his face and he seemed to be in deep thought. Without saying anything, he pulled her back toward the couch and sat down.
‘Sit, Bridget.’ He patted the sofa next to him. ‘Let’s talk.’
Confusion bubbled inside her. She didn’t know where this was going. Tension surged through her. Why, she couldn’t have said, but she felt like she was getting ready to run the gauntlet rather than have a conversation. He looked so sincere, though, and she didn’t want to hurt his feelings, so she sat.
‘Let’s talk about the control thing. What are you trying to control?’
‘What do you mean? I would think it would be obvious.’
‘No, I don’t.’ His lips quirked. ‘You could want to control me or you could be more concerned about controlling yourself. The meaning alters distinctly depending on your answer.’
Bridget squirmed uncomfortably; this was getting into territory she really didn’t want to cover. She liked Connor a lot, wanted him in a way she wasn’t at all used to, but she wasn’t ready to share her deepest shame with him.
‘Bridget, I need you to be honest with me if we’re going to date each other. How can we move forward if you’re not willing to talk with me about things that affect us both?’ He picked up her hand again and began to stroke her palm with his thumb. ‘I’ll go first, OK? I admit that I’ve never been in a real relationship before. Life was always getting in the way and then I didn’t want to be tied down when I finally got out on my own. But I’ve never been one to play games. I want you, Bridget, bad. I’m worried I won’t be able to be gentle with you. I like sex dirty and rough. I’ve never been a gentle man in bed and I think you need that.’
Bridget’s body was definitely on board with what he had to say. Her nipples were tight and her sex was slick with need. But his words frightened her. She’d been walking a tightrope with him already. If she wasn’t careful, she’d fall off, and with Connor, she didn’t see a net to save her.
‘It’s me I’m worried about controlling,’ she cut in as he was about to continue. ‘I –’ She couldn’t get the words out. Frustrated tears flooded her eyes and she gripped his hand hard. ‘I want you and I don’t want you to be gentle with me. I want to feel like a normal woman.’
It wasn’t nearly everything but it was true.
‘So, answer my first question, do you want to seduce m
e?’
Ash-grey eyes bored into hers and she saw the desire there. He was a sure thing. It made her smile.
‘Yes.’
‘Good, I like to be seduced as much as the next guy.’ He kissed her hand again. ‘I don’t feel like you’ve told me everything, though. What about yourself are you so worried about controlling?’
In a moment of clarity, Bridget realised it was now or never. If she didn’t tell Connor now, before things went any further, she never would. But telling him might end things for ever. Her head pounded at the risk she was taking. She’d spent years burying the past and building the walls necessary to move forward, but she felt in her heart this man would never be content to be kept at a distance.
‘Connor …’ She paused, trying to find the courage inside herself to get the words out. Realising it wasn’t going to get any easier, she just started speaking. ‘I’m not a very experienced woman, despite my age. I’ve had very few lovers and I already told you the problems with those relationships.’
‘Because of the rape?’ he interjected.
‘Yes and no. Obviously, the rape has made me very cautious in dealing with men. In fact, my being here at your place is wildly out of character for me, but there’s more. You see, I was a virgin until I was 18. I had very strong beliefs about sex. Not so much about waiting until I was married, but definitely waiting for the right guy, because I felt like sex shouldn’t be limited. That inhibitions were a waste of time.
‘My first real boyfriend was older than me. He was 25 to my 18. Seven years would be nothing now, but then it was a world of difference. We had a really good time together and I gave him my virginity. In return, he showed me a lot about sex. We did things together. Things I should never have done. Things I was punished for in the worst way when I was raped.’
‘Hold on, Bridget.’ Confusion clouded his face. ‘Do you expect me to believe a woman as smart as you are actually thinks that her rape was punishment for enjoying sex?’
‘It wasn’t so much enjoying sex, but more for enjoying the depraved things he had exposed me to.’
‘Depraved in what way?’ Confusion was giving way to tension as his voice hardened.
Bridget felt nausea well inside her as she prepared to expose her darkest secrets to him. ‘I let him tie me up. I let him spank me. He even spanked me here –’ She pressed her hand to her breasts and shuddered as the memory of exactly how much she’d enjoyed that particular act came back to her. Her traitorous body still responded to the memory and shame flooded her.
‘And you think this is depraved why?’
‘Because it’s not normal.’
‘Says who?’ Irritation was evident in his voice, but she knew she was right.
‘Connor, any doubts I had were taken away when I was raped.’
Taking a deep breath, Connor said, ‘I’m going to table my argument for the time being. Will you tell me about the rape? I need to understand why you think you were punished for enjoying a little kinky sex.’
She didn’t want to, but she felt she owed him this much. At least then he’d understand where she was coming from.
Closing her eyes, she fought to calm the roiling in her stomach as, for the first time in almost 20 years, she let the memories roll over her without a fight.
Clenching her hands in her lap, she exposed her deepest shame to him.
It had started simply enough. She couldn’t remember why now, but she’d been running late to drop off her friend Joe’s history notes. He’d needed them for his class the next morning and she’d promised to have them back to him before he left for practice that night. She’d called but had gotten his answering machine and this was in the days before mobile phones.
Bridget had arrived at his dorm and called him again from the lobby with no success. After hesitating for several minutes, she decided to slip them under his door. Pritchard Hall was an all-male dorm and Joe had warned her to not come through it unescorted, but he’d never given her a very good reason. Other girls seemed to have no problem getting in and out and she felt bad about having been late when he needed those notes.
The elevator dinged and opened to reveal a young, unescorted female student. Taking this as a sign, Bridget got on the elevator and punched in the fifth floor. Joe’s door was at the end of the hall and she quickly went down and slid the notes under his door. Mission accomplished, she turned to return back the way she’d come.
About midway down the hall a door opened and she almost bumped into Trent Maxwell, resident rich kid, star golfer, and serious hottie. At six feet, he was filled out nicely, with black hair and green eyes that made him look like Brian Bloom, whom she’d had a crush on since he’d starred in 21 Jump Street.
‘Hey, Ginger. How’s it hanging?’
He’d smiled at her, flashing his dimple and she’d quivered a bit inside. She wasn’t a virgin, but she’d not been “active” either. She’d slept with exactly one man and that had been after several months of dating.
Trent had been pursuing her recently. They’d been at several campus mixers together and she and her friends had gone to the Sigma Chi party where he’d recently pledged. She’d been friendly and danced with him several times. Even let him steal a chaste kiss, but she’d declined his offers of dates. She was very focused on her chemistry studies and knew she didn’t have time for a serious boyfriend, or even a non-serious boyfriend. Her chances of landing the internship she hoped for with Professor Yanchenko were middling at best if she didn’t ace her classes and she wanted the internship. It was her hope to end up a permanent member of the Professor’s research team and do her grad work under Yanchenko as well.
Trent had made it clear he was interested in her. He’d been fairly handsy when they were dancing, but Bridget was used to that. At five feet with 36D breasts and large hips, she was quite voluptuous and men tended to treat her like their personal sex kitten. It was frustrating, but she’d found charm and niceness kept the vast majority of them at bay.
Trent was a bit harder to manage, but that was more because she was extremely attracted to him. She probably shouldn’t have let him kiss her, but she’d been tipsy, and there hadn’t even been any tongue involved. Just a sweet kiss that she’d romanticised about for hours afterwards even as she’d declined his date offer.
Now, though, he was lounging in his doorway, giving her that sexy, green-eyed gaze that always made her a bit breathless. She smiled at the nickname. He wasn’t the first to call her Ginger, but she certainly liked the sound of it better coming from him than she had her older brother.
‘Hey yourself.’ She smiled at him and noticed how his eyes took a long, leisurely stroll down her body.
She flushed a bit and hated her pale skin for the fact that it showed. She was in a simple, pale gold sun dress with spaghetti straps which meant she had enough skin showing that he would see her reaction to his obvious perusal.
For his part, he looked as fine as always in jeans and sleek black T-shirt. This was in the days before baggy jeans and his fit him nicely. His T-shirt was tucked in, showing off both his nice behind and the expensive leather belt he was wearing.
‘I’m glad to see you,’ he said. ‘You busy? I’ve been hoping to run into you.’
‘Really?’ She gave him a flirtatious smile. ‘Why’s that?’
‘I’ve been hoping to change your mind about going out with me? Alien3 came out and I’d like to take you with me to see it.’
She chuckled. ‘You might get me to go to the movies with you, I love the movies, but it’d be dutch and not for some horror alien movie. I told you, I’m not interested in dating anyone right now.’
He grinned and she felt a shiver deep in her belly.
‘I know. Tell you what, why don’t you come in and hang out with me for a while? We can look at what’s playing and I can work on changing your mind.’
She glanced at her watch. It was only five o’clock and her study group wasn’t scheduled to meet until six.
She shrug
ged. ‘OK, but I have to leave pretty soon. I have a study group.’
‘No problem.’ He stepped aside and waved her into his room.
It was pretty standard for a college dorm room except there was a computer, which was still rare in that day and time, and he had a single – no roommate. That was even rarer, since most kids couldn’t afford the rates that went with singles.
There were no chairs in the room other than his desk chair, which was piled high with clothes and books, so she sat on the bed. He grabbed the local paper off his desk and came and sat next to her. Rifling through it, he found the movie listings and handed them to her.
‘If you aren’t interest in a sci-fi, there’s that Tom Cruise movie, A Few Good Men.’
‘I could do that.’ She grinned. ‘I like a good legal drama.’
‘Well, that’s good. I’m going to be a lawyer, you know.’
‘Yes, you told me.’
He moved and set the newspaper back on the desk before walking over to a little mini-fridge in the corner.
‘Want a Coke or something to drink?’
As hot as she was feeling being in such close proximity to him, a soda sounded like a good idea. Maybe it would cool her down.
‘Sure, Coke is fine.’
He pulled a couple of plastic cups from a cupboard and added ice and soda to both before handing one to her. She drank deeply, enjoying the bite of the carbonation as it burned down her throat. He smiled at her, a grin of mischief and intent that had her insides warming. He made her feel really sexy and when he sat down again he was touching her.
She thought to put a bit of space between them, but there was really nowhere to go. The pillows on his bed were on her other side and she didn’t want to seem rude.
She could smell his cologne, a light, citrus scent, and her skin pebbled a bit in awareness of him. It’s really too bad I’m not in the market, she thought, he’s so fine.
‘Did you hear me?’ He was looking at her with those ice green eyes and she was embarrassed that he’d caught her wool-gathering, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to concentrate.
Reflection (The Chrysalis Series) Page 9