BOUGHT: A Standalone Romance

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BOUGHT: A Standalone Romance Page 14

by Glenna Sinclair


  “Don’t you look pretty?” Mary says with a grin.

  “I was going for casual and aloof.”

  “Think he’ll fall for that?”

  “Not a chance in hell,” I say with a laugh. “Kyle, I’m heading out,” I call.

  “Can you bring back snacks? Mom brought healthy stuff,” he says, his face pinched.

  “We’ll pig out later,” I say with a laugh.

  “You’re both children,” Mary calls after me.

  “I never denied that.”

  Walking out to my car, I slip inside and take a deep breath. I can do this. It’s no big deal. I’m fine. Why is my heart pounding out of my chest? Have I really started developing feelings for the possessive, arrogant, sexy, smart, indulgent Connor?

  I don’t want to think about that. All I want to do is go, get my things, and… And what? Make up with him? Fight with him? Fall into his bed and forget the whole thing happened?

  Connor is complicated. He’s had a past where he was never in control, much like I had growing up. The only difference is that his need to control has manifested in a destructive and dangerous way, while mine has been quelled by taking men for every dime they have. I wonder if we even could have anything. Both of us are so toxic, so raw. The events that have taken place since we met have only made us more on edge, exposed. It’s a scary sight to watch your walls come tumbling down.

  Driving on auto pilot, I get there before my brain can quite catch up. The house stands tall, looming and imposing as always. Swallowing thickly, I slide out of the car. I can do this. Holding my head up a little higher, I walk up to the front door and press my finger against the doorbell. It’s silent for so long that I think no one will answer, until Connor’s maid pokes her head out of the door, a smile on her face.

  “Is Connor here?” I ask, peeking over the top of her head.

  “He’s upstairs in his study. Should I tell him you’re here?”

  “No!” I say, shocking the maid, who jumps at my raised voice. I chuckle, feeling sheepish. “Sorry. I mean, please don’t. I’ll just go up.”

  The woman nods, but as I try to walk past her she gently touches my arm. “Normally, I would never say this, but I wanted you to know. He’s been in an awful mood for the last few weeks.”

  I frown. “Got it. Thank you.”

  The woman nods before she ambles away in search of something to clean in the already immaculate home. I take the stairs slowly, willing my heart to calm down as I ascend. One part of me wants to sneak into the room I’d slept in when I was here, collect my things, and disappear, but I can’t. Some part of me wants, needs to see him again. Even if it’s only for a moment.

  Finally, I’m standing in front of his office door. I can hear him yelling at someone, but no one else is saying anything, so I assume that he’s on the phone. While I get my words together, my emotions, I wait for him to stop speaking before I raise my hand and knock on the wooden door.

  “Not now,” he calls.

  You could just leave. He obviously doesn’t want to be bothered. It’s probably best to just leave him alone!

  No. I’m tired of running. All of my life I’ve run: from my parents, my home, my life, my friends, difficult situations. What’s the point? If I keep running, the only outcome is that my life will be catching up with me again. If I stay, fight, maybe I could change something for once.

  I don’t bother knocking a second time. Twisting the knob, I step inside of the office. Normally, Connor is neat, clean, professional to the point of driving me crazy. What I see in front of me makes me pause. There are papers, books, files strewn all over the desk and floor. Clothes cover the surface of two large chairs in front of his desk. Glancing up, I gaze at Connor.

  The man is disheveled, wild looking. His normally clean or stubbly chin is covered in a beard. He wears a pair of sweatpants that hang precariously on his hips and a white t-shirt. The eyes that I’ve fallen for from the very beginning are heavy, tired. What has happened to him?

  “Angela,” he says quietly, seemingly transfixed with my appearance. He puts down the file in his hand and moves around the edge of the desk towards me. “How are you?”

  “I’m fine,” I say softly, concern in my voice. “What’s going on?” I ask, waving a hand towards the mess around us.

  “Oh,” he says, looking at the room as if he’s just seeing it for the first time. “I have a really important case coming up. What are you doing here?”

  “I was just coming to grab my stuff…” I trail off. “Are you okay? You look, um, different.”

  Connor laughs. “You mean, I look a mess.” He shrugs. “I realized that I chased off the only woman I’ve felt anything towards in years. Depression will do funny things to you.”

  Why am I tearing up? I find myself reaching out, touching his arm gently. This is my fault?

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know—”

  Connor holds up a hand. “I treated you like shit; it’s exactly what I deserve. Besides, you gave me the kick in the ass that I needed.”

  “I did?”

  He nods. “I quit drinking, for good this time.”

  I gaze into his eyes, wondering if he’s telling the truth. For the first time, I realize that his eyes are incredibly clear. He is telling the truth. A small smile forms on my lips.

  “How long?”

  Connor shrugs. “Couple weeks. Honestly, I’ve been burying myself in here so I’m not tempted. I threw out every bottle in the house. It sucks,” he says with laugh. “I just wish I could pull myself out of this…” He swallows thickly, straining to say the word. “Depression.”

  I have never seen Connor so open before. The way he glances away from me, the way he chokes on his words, I know he’s vulnerable. I reach up, gently slipping the file from his hands. He looks at me in surprise before I wrap my arms around his neck.

  Slowly, I feel his arms circling my body. We stand silent, motionless, soaking up the warmth of each other’s bodies and letting ourselves be vulnerable together for once. It hurts seeing him in pain. I wipe at my eyes carefully, not caring if he knows that I’m crying. When I gaze up, he’s doing the same.

  I laugh, wiping my face clean with my sleeve. “Come on, we can’t stand around being this pathetic all day.” I smile. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

  “What are you doing?” Connor asks as I grab his hand and lead him out of the room. “I still have work, you know.” He tries to sound stern and fails, his throat still sounding raw from crying.

  “It can wait.”

  I pull him through his bedroom and into the bathroom that’s attached. Turning on the tub, I make it nice and warm before I push in the plug. Turning to Connor, I push him arms up and begin to pull him out of his clothes.

  My fingers push against his skin slowly, and I have to stand on the tips of my toes to pull the t-shirt over his head. When I drop back down to my feet, he’s gazing at me with a mixture of hunger and…what? I have no idea as I grip the top of his sweatpants and slide them down his legs. He lifts his feet to let me slide them off.

  “Why are you doing this?” he asks in a hushed voice.

  “You took care of me once, remember?” I ask as I pull his boxers off next. “Let me take care of you.”

  The tub has filled up quickly, and I lead him over to it before he climbs inside. A deep moan echoes from his throat as he submerges himself, sinking completely beneath the clear, blue water. A few seconds later, he emerges again, wipes the water from his face, and smiles.

  I let him soak up the warmth of the water as I go through the bathroom collecting his clippers. I set up everything he needs on the counter. Satisfied that he’ll be fine, I step towards the door, when he reaches out a hand and grips my thigh.

  “Stay with me.”

  The look in his eyes is pleading. If I stay, I’ll do something stupid. Not just sleeping with him, but falling for him in a way that could damage us both more than we already are.

  I think about him not drinki
ng, about the fact that I brought on that change. Were we really so bad for each other? The thought of taking a chance was the scariest part of it all. I swallow thickly as I take a step towards the tub.

  “Connor,” I say quietly, the whispered words echoing off the walls of the bathroom. “I don’t—”

  “I know,” he says before I can breathe another word. “I’m scared too, but I want you.” He looks embarrassed as he adds more quietly, “I need you.”

  Fuck it. The thought reverberates around my brain as I tug the sweater over my head and toss it to the floor. I kick my jeans off, my eyes never leaving him as he looks me up and down. Beneath the waves of the water, I see his cock growing stiff between his thighs. It doesn’t take me long to slip out of my panties and bra.

  Sliding into the tub, I take a sharp inhale of air. The water is hot, stinging, perfect. I slide down into the huge tub bit by bit, until I’m immersed. I echo Connor’s actions from earlier and moan as the water laps at my breasts.

  Connor moves forward, his eyes gazing into mine as he leans in. I don’t object, don’t push him away as his mouth connects with mine. He doesn’t move too fast. Instead he tastes me slowly, exploring my mouth gently. When his tongue graces my mouth, I dart mine out against his. I moan against his mouth, savoring the taste of him, the closeness of him. He moves his kisses along my cheeks, my jaw, my neck.

  “I missed the hell out of you,” he mumbles against my ear.

  “I missed you too,” I admit, not just to him, for the first time.

  Connor’s hands run over my body beneath the water. His fingers trail up my belly, tickling me slightly until they come to rest on my breasts. He runs his thumb over my nipple before he lowers his mouth and sucks one into his mouth. My head falls back as he alternates between my left and right nipples, his tongue working in quick, expert licks to long, languid teasing. I slip my hand between my thighs, but he pulls it away.

  “Not yet,” he says firmly.

  A shiver ripples up my spine. No matter how much I hate giving up control in the outside world, I never seem to get enough from him. I nod my head in silent agreement, and he goes back to worshipping every inch of my skin with his mouth until I’m beginning to think I’ll crawl up the walls if he doesn’t give me a firmer touch.

  A shocked gasp falls from my lips as he captures one of my nipples and gives it a firm bite. My fingers run through his hair, holding his mouth to my breasts as he sucks, licks, and bites me into a frenzy. Even being surrounded by water, I can feel myself wet beyond belief. I want nothing more than to dip my hand beneath the waves, to stroke my clit slowly.

  Connor seems to read my mind as his fingers slide beneath the water. He caresses and strokes the soft flesh of my inner thighs, making me shudder with anticipation. Then his fingers are inside of me, twisting, turning, sliding against my narrow walls until I cry out and cum on those glorious digits. As I’m panting, weak, with my stomach muscles twitching from the force of my orgasm, he flips me over.

  My hands grip the side of the tub as I feel him rub his cock over my wet slit. He takes his time, teasing me with the head before he’s sliding into my folds. One hand reaches around, and he strokes my already sensitive clit as he starts to push inside of me, nice and easy.

  “Promise me something,” he practically growls into my ear.

  “What?” I barely manage to choke out.

  “If I never put my hands on you, you’ll never leave me like that again.”

  I don’t have to think about that one. “I promise,” I say quickly.

  “Good girl.”

  I squirm to my very core hearing those words. He pushes me over the edge again and again, until it’s all I can do to simply hold on to the side of the tub with my arms and not slide limply into the water like a rag doll. Just as I’m pretty sure that I’m near the end of my rope, he grips my hips with both hands and slams into me. Every wet smack of our bodies coming together drives me over the edge. He’s filling me up now, using every inch of me to bring him pleasure. And I love it.

  Connor grips my shoulders to go in deeper. I moan, crying out as my fingers dig into the tub and his fingertips dig into me. With a deep, primal groan, he fills me up. I can feel his muscles twitching and flexing against my body as he empties his cock inside of me.

  We stay like that for a while, panting and trying to collect ourselves. He slides out of me slowly, and I can feel his warm cum sliding down my thighs. Stepping out of the tub, he pulls the plug and walks over to the glass-encased shower. When the water is right, he comes back over, picks me up in his arms, and carries me inside of the steam and hot water paradise.

  Connor pulls my hair out of the ponytail and grabs the shampoo before he starts to work it into my hair. He takes his time, massaging my scalp until I feel even more like a puddle of water. I didn’t think that was possible. He rinses the shampoo out carefully, not getting even a single drop in my eyes. After he does the same to his hair, we take turns soaping each other up and letting the water rinse us clean.

  By the time we’re both feeling clean again, Connor’s rock hard. He takes me again in the shower, then again on his bed, and again on the floor when we just can’t restrain ourselves. We lose ourselves in each other until we’re both raw, sated, and starving.

  “I’m hungry,” I pant as Connor cleans me up with a towel.

  “I thought I had taken care of that plenty of times by now,” he said with a grin.

  I slap at him and miss. “Shut up! I mean food, you bastard.”

  Connor kisses my hand. “Your wish is my command.” He runs a hand through his beard. “I should probably take care of this first, though.”

  “Please,” I beg.

  He feigns being hurt. “You’re not a fan of my amazing, manly beard?”

  “No I am not.”

  “Cruel,” he says with a sad shake of the head.

  I laugh and push him up. As he disappears into the bathroom, I drag myself out of the bed and down the hall to the room that had briefly been mine. Rummaging through the closet, I find a dark blue dress and slip on a pair of black leggings underneath it. Reaching underneath the bed, I pull out a pair of black flats to complete the ensemble before I try to tame my now wild and crazy hair.

  A knock on my door is followed by Connor’s words. “May I come in?”

  “Enter,” I call in my best regal voice.

  When he steps inside of the room, he whistles. “How do I keep forgetting how beautiful you are?”

  I can feel myself blushing. My hair falls in soft, dark ringlets over my shoulders. I even had time to apply a little light makeup. I’m feeling wonderful, reborn.

  Looking over Connor, I have to say I’m impressed too. He’s ditched the sweats in favor of a pair of dark slacks and a blue shirt that’s rolled up at the sleeves. The beard is gone, and I run my fingers over his smooth face with a moan.

  “Very nice,” I say, slapping his ass.

  Connor growls. “Do that again and you’ll find yourself bent over my knee.”

  “If I wasn’t so hungry, I’d gladly take you up on that challenge,” I purr back. “Let’s go.”

  “Wait.”

  I turn back around. “What’s wrong?”

  Connor chuckles. “Nothing’s wrong. I just wanted to ask you something.”

  “Ask,” I say simply with a shrug of my shoulders.

  He narrows his eyes, and I know he’s being serious. “Did you mean what you promised?”

  A lump seems to have formed in my throat out of nowhere. “Of course. I mean it.”

  A smile slowly comes back on Connor’s face. “Good. And one more thing.”

  “Shoot.”

  “Will you go out with me? On a real date?”

  I blink at him. “Connor—”

  “I want to do more than just fuck you,” he says quickly. “I can’t just have you casually. I want to be with you, if that’s what you want too.”

  What am I getting myself into? Getting involved with th
e rich, spoiled, possessive man is terrifying, but why does it feel so right? I stumble over my words, feeling like a teenager back in high school talking to my crush. Finally, I nod quickly.

  “I want to be with you too.”

  Connor’s grin deepens. His hands brush against my face before he leans down. His lips move against mine as I fall into him, sink into him. I’ve never wanted someone as much as I want Connor. The fear is pushed aside. No matter what happens, at least we both took a chance.

  “Okay,” he says as he pulls back with a sigh. “Let’s go get food. That cherry lipstick is starting to make me want to eat you.”

  “Who’s stopping you?” I tease.

  “Trust me,” he says as he runs his fingers between my legs, making me shudder. “You can’t handle that right now.”

  Damn. I hate it when he’s right.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Were are we going?” I ask for the hundredth time.

  The world is black around me as we bump along the roads. Connor thought it would be a splendid idea to blindfold me for our date. The me that was in a state of post-coital bliss had gone along with it. Now, I’m getting irritated.

  “Connor!”

  He chuckles beside me. He’s getting a kick out of this. I blindly reach for his leg and try to pinch him, but he’s quicker than me and eludes my grasp.

  “Don’t make me tie your arms up too,” he chides.

  I sigh. “Where are we going?”

  “Don’t whine,” is his simple, smug answer.

  The only instruction I’ve had since getting into the car was to call Mary and Kyle and let them know that I’d be gone for the night and part of tomorrow. I’d told them, but when Mary asked where I was going the only thing I could say was I had no idea. She’d simply giggled into the phone like a schoolgirl, to which I’d blushed a shade of red so deep I could have been mistaken for a lobster. Connor got a kick out of that.

 

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