Losing Enough

by Helen Boswell

  “You ever have to use that?” I ask as he sets the gun on the table.

  “I’ve had to pull it a few times.”

  I look him in the eye. “You ever have to kill anyone?”

  He falls silent, and I feel the blood drain from my face.

  “I’m Navy SEAL, sweetheart,” he says quietly.

  “Oh,” I say. For once when dealing with him, I don’t have a quick comeback. I hadn’t known about the SEAL part, just what my mom had said about him being in the military.

  “Why did you quit?”

  “You never really quit the SEALs.”

  It’s an evasive answer, not really an answer at all. He goes silent again, a slight frown furrowing his brow. Okay, so given the whole Cruz thing, maybe talking about his past, which (eek) may involve killing people isn’t the greatest idea right now.

  I close my eyes again. The entire rest of the suite is quiet, and except for the occasional noise from the corridor, it feels good to have temporarily shut out the craziness of everything outside my door. And I’m glad that Connor’s here, because no matter how fearless I presented myself to him earlier, I think I would have been jumpy if I had to be here alone.

  I meant what I told him, that I’d try to help him figure out a way to get rid of his brother. True, everything I know about street gangs could fit on a dust particle, but I’m good at working through problems and staying levelheaded while I do it. From what little I know about Cruz, I think staying levelheaded might be necessary.

  “You going to sleep now?”

  He says it quietly, and when I open my eyes, he’s watching me. Probably has been the entire time.

  “No,” I say, but thinking about it makes me yawn anyway. “Going over things in my head. Sorry I’m such boring company.”

  “You’re not.” He’d unbuttoned his sleeves and rolled them up while I was busy being so boring. I watch as he flexes his arms in a stretch, enjoying the sight of the rest of him while I’m at it.

  I don’t usually go for guys like this. Not ones that are carrying around so many scars, figuratively and literally. But then again, I’m usually just looking for a good time. There’s so much more to Connor than his sex appeal. Though I have to admit that it’s definitely part of the draw.

  I smile at him. “You can come sit next to me if you want. My bed is way more comfortable than that chair.”

  I hope I’m not blushing. So many ways Connor could take that statement, but the fact is that I invited him into my bed. I don’t regret saying it, though. He’s all the way over there, and I’m way over here, and I feel like we should be closer than that.

  That gorgeous blue gaze of his sears through me. But he hesitates, like he wants to be sure my invitation was serious. There’s plenty of room next to me, but I shift over even more so I’m facing him with my legs curled under me.

  He takes my cue, gets out of the chair, and slowly walks over to the bed. He has a natural swagger to his walk, and the way his hips move is so hot that it makes me flush. I hold my breath until he stops, until he stands and looks down at me like he doesn’t know what to do. My God. This beautiful man who’s trained to kill looks completely unsure of his next move.

  I hold out my hand to him, and he crawls into bed, reminding me of a prowling animal. He sits down so he’s facing me, his fingers closing around my hand. A delicious shiver courses up my arm as he lifts my hand to his lips and kisses it. I turn my wrist so I can rub the slight stubble on his jaw.

  He closes his eyes and exhales slowly. “I walked away from the SEALs because it was more of a means to an end than anything else.”

  My hand stills as I listen, and he presses it to his face as he goes on. “To prove to myself that I could do it. Originally it was my way of escaping the shitty situation at home. I worked so hard for it that I think I actually believed it was what I wanted, but once I was in the thick of things, I couldn’t see myself making a career out of it.” He opens his eyes and gives me a wry smile. “Not that I can see myself doing what I’m doing now for a career, either.”

  “Sounds to me like you just haven’t found the right thing yet,” I say. “Better to keep your options open than lock yourself into something. It’s not like you’re not doing well for yourself. I mean, look at you. Expensive car, nice clothes…fancy dinners at In-N-Out.”

  “Stop.” He shakes his head at me, dimples in full effect. I love it when I can make him smile like that.

  “Who knows?” I add. “Maybe I won’t like being a nurse once I actually get to be one. I went through three different majors before I decided.”

  “No. You seem like you follow through with things.”

  I’m about to respond to that, but he lets go of my hand and trails his fingertips down my jawline, and whatever I was about to say flies right out of my head. I hold my breath as he traces a line along my collarbone, my skin tingling at his touch. His gaze locks with mine as they hesitate at the neckline of my shirt.

  “I’m sure you do, too,” I murmur. “Follow through with things.”

  He doesn’t release me from his gaze as his fingertips follow the V of my shirt and travel over the swell of my breasts. I stare up at his face, little excited currents radiating through my belly as his hand hovers. On the verge of touching me. Leaning forward, his face so, so close. Deliberately keeping me in suspense.

  Kiss me.

  I close my eyes as he touches his lips to mine. Gently. That same surprising softness that he started with when he first kissed me in the pool. Gentle and slow, like he’s tasting me for the very first time. Like he’s not sure where I am with this and he’s asking. I wrap my arm around his neck and kiss him harder to show him.

  But he draws back a little, continuing to tease me with that slow and lazy kiss. His tongue flicks lightly against mine, his fingers make feather-light circles over one of my breasts, his knee brushes against my leg, and oh my God, every molecule of me aches for more. We’re still sitting next to each other, and one of my pillows is wedged between us. Too much physical space separating us. Too many lingering worries in my brain. I want all of it gone except for him. I just want him.

  I grab the pillow and chuck it to the side, slide my hand beneath his shirt, press my palm against his abs. His body tenses and then relaxes against my touch, and I move up slowly and revel in the feel of him, in the heat of him. Like he’s on fire inside to match the beautiful burn that’s starting to unfurl from my core. I spread my fingers out, feel him inhale and then slowly release his breath.

  That shirt of his is too tight and has got to go. Really, and right now. I find his collar without breaking away from the kiss, my fingers flying down the front of his shirt undoing the buttons. He’s all about gentle right now, and I’m not. I spread my hands out across his shoulders and push his shirt off the entire way. Break off the kiss and wrangle his t-shirt up and over his head. Incite a groan from him as I move to straddle him.

  He runs his hands up my thighs, his eyes fiery and hungry and full of emotion. I’m wearing a skirt and very conscious of his touch, even more aware of the hot length of him through his jeans.

  “Alex.” His voice is rough. “I don’t want to use you.”

  I stare at him, my heartbeat going wild as I try to make sense of what he said. Not that he doesn’t want me but that he doesn’t want to use me. Like having sex with someone equates to using them? Or is there more meaning behind that? I don’t know, but the way he says it, the way he’s looking at me in earnest makes me want to melt right into him.

  I reach up and touch his forehead, push a stray curl back. I breathe, “Then don’t use me.”

  The expression in his eyes shifts. Still desire, still hot, but like another flame burns on top of that.

  He smiles a little bit before he leans into me. His mouth finds the sensitive part where my neck curves into my shoulder, and I whimper as he kisses me, as he applies more pressure and sucks. That softness from before is gone. Strong arms wind around me, and he lifts me up and
then lays me down on my back. He braces himself up over me, his eyes searching mine for the longest time.

  “Stay still,” he whispers. “Don’t move.”

  It takes everything I have to not throw myself at him. But I give him the tiniest nod, and he shifts his body down on me while I try to be still.

  I’m trusting you.

  My eyes flutter shut as he pushes my shirt up and kisses my navel. His tongue swirls around my piercing, his teeth nipping at it before his lips lay a slow path of kisses upward. He’s holding the rest of his body away from me, and it forces me to focus on the singular sensation of his mouth on my skin. He pulls my shirt over my head, and I arch my back and help him. He pushes my bra down and out of the way, engulfs me in the warm and wet of his mouth, draws the moan right out of me.

  I don’t listen to orders. Run my nails over his shoulders, going crazy as his hand strokes my thigh with a commanding touch. Knot a hand in his hair when he gets to my panties. Hold my breath as he so, so slowly slides them down.

  Please. Yes.

  I gasp as he takes my nipple between his teeth. Releases me and lowers his mouth onto my other one so it doesn’t feel left out. Caresses my inner thigh as I spread my legs apart for him. His fingers explore me, dipping into my wetness before centering on the spot that aches for him the very most, and my God, he knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s already pushing me toward the edge of bliss.

  I don’t want to go over without you.

  He lifts his head like he heard me. I close my eyes as he rubs me in slow circles, as he makes me want more. Makes me want all of him.

  “Alexis.” His voice is low, raspy, and so amazingly sexy. It’s the first time he’s said my real name, and it feels good to hear it. I want him to say it again. All he wants.

  I feel him shift his body up so his head is level with mine.

  “Look at me.”

  I obey, and my heart stills for a moment. The expression in his eyes is hungry, but it’s so much more than that. It’s open, tender, full of emotion for me that I’m not sure I deserve. He covers my mouth with his again, his tongue sliding in at the same time that his fingers slip into me.

  Oh. Oh my God.

  He kisses me deeply, moves his fingers in the same rhythm, and I grab the sheets in a fist before letting go. Try to let go of more than that. My inhibitions, my barriers. I’ve never been with anyone who put me first like this. Never wanted so badly to meet someone in the middle. I want to have him, too.

  Have him. Not forever, but for tonight. Because I can’t really have him. Because this can’t be more than what it is right now, in this moment. We’re in my hotel room, not at my home, and I’m only here for the month. Dammit, and I shouldn’t think about it, shouldn’t dare to wish that it’s any different than this. I can’t. I shove the thought out of my brain so it won’t bring me down off my high.

  I reach down, rub my hand along the length of him and die a little. Oh... So unfair that he’s still wearing his pants. I pull on his jeans, pop open his fly. He makes a very sexy groan as I slip my hand under his waistband, breaks the kiss off as he grabs my wrist.

  I stare up at him, almost drowning in the blue of his eyes as he moves my hand away. “I want to make you feel good, too,” I whisper.

  He shakes his head. Slowly brings my arm over my head and holds it there. “No. Just you this time.”

  He’s totally in control, and for this one moment, I let him be. Grip the sheets again like I’m holding on for dear life as he shifts down the length of my body. He moves so slowly, planting a trail of hot kisses as he descends, the skin he leaves behind burning for his touch again. He keeps sliding down, down so he’s lying between my legs, one of his hands squeezing my waist, the other caressing me. Teasing me. Tormenting me. A shock jars through me as his tongue touches me, flicks against me over and over. Learns me. Memorizes everything about me. Finally, finally pushes into me, wet and hot and making me spiral up off that hard edge.

  “Oh, God. Connor…”

  I dissolve beneath him, sharp waves of ecstasy obliterating everything in my world except for him.

  19

  Connor

  Alex cries out my name, and I close my eyes and focus on letting myself feel her and everything she’s willing to give me. Hold onto her, revel in how her smooth legs tense against my shoulders, how a shudder courses through her. How she lets everything go in release as she comes undone. I love the way she tastes, and I don’t let up on her, not even when she pants and grabs at my hair. Not even when she begs.

  “Please...”

  I push my tongue into her one more time, lick her long and slow before directing all of my attention to her sweetest spot. Feel her shudder again, hear her moan, slide my fingers inside her to enjoy the aftershocks of her orgasm before pulling out.

  I kiss her legs, shift my body up so I kiss her belly, drag my tongue around her hot navel piercing. Wait for her to come down so I can do it to her all over again.

  “Connor.” She’s breathless, her voice jagged. “I want you.”

  I want her, too. So badly, but I don’t want this to be about me. I hesitate at her words, shut my eyes, work to get myself under tighter control.

  I don’t ever do this. Yeah, I generally try to make sure that whoever I’m with gets something out of it, too. But that’s a bonus. Icing on the cake. Something to make me feel better about using whoever I’m with, to ease the guilt about it solely being about the sex and then walking away afterward. This is different. This is just about Alex, and I don’t want to walk away from her tonight.

  I raise up, move to lie next to her. I graze my hand against her cheek, and she turns her head to face me.

  “No, sweetheart.” I trail my fingers through her hair, cup the base of her neck, shift us so she’s resting her head on my shoulder. “Not this time.”

  She searches my face for what feels like forever, her chest rising and falling as she sighs. Her eyes are beautiful and full of wanting, and my body is all messed up because I’ve fooled it into thinking that it’s going to be with her. Though if she asks me again, I might not be able to say no.

  “Okay,” she finally whispers.

  Her whole body relaxes, her cheek lying against my arm and her hand splaying out on my chest like she’s trying to feel in my heart the effects of what we just did. I don’t ever do this either. Don’t stay with a woman in her bed if I can help it. Don’t do the pillow talk thing. But she feels too good lying against me to make me want to get out of bed, let alone move.

  Eventually, I do move. But only to undo my jeans the rest of the way so I’m more comfortable. I reach over and grab the down comforter to cover us, the only sound in the room being the movement of our bodies over the crisp sheets as we rearrange ourselves. Her breathing becomes more regular, slower. My instincts tell me that I should go if she falls asleep, that to stay the whole night with her would make things awkward between us in the morning. But that’s habit speaking for me, and I decide that unless she asks me to go, I’ll stay.

  I hear a door open and click shut as one of her parents enters the main part of the suite, footsteps and another door close. Alex starts in my arms.

  “Hey, Connor?” she whispers. “Could you lock the door that goes to the suite?”

  I shift away, stare at her. Her eyes are still closed, her face relaxed and serene. “The door was unlocked that whole time?” I hiss. “You’re kidding me.”

  She opens her eyes and gives me a lazy smile. “Don’t worry. They don’t come in here without knocking first. But just in case, you know?”

  “Yeah.” I get out of bed and flip the dead bolt.

  I walk back to the bed, Alex watching my every move, and even though I’m standing in only my undone jeans, I’m comfortable being here with her. Like hanging out together in her room is something we’ve done before.

  She rolls over and crawls to the edge of the bed, and I stare at her legs and try not to think about the fact that she’s not wearing und
erwear under that little skirt. She grabs her t-shirt from the bed and pulls it on, and I cock my head at her.

  “That’s a damned shame, you know. You getting dressed.”

  She stands and faces me with a mischievous gleam in her eye. “I have an idea.”

  I smile back. “What’s that?”

  “You still have your pool card? The one that can get us in after hours?”

  I nod. “I do. You want to go for a swim?”

  She walks up to me, places her hands on my chest, tilting her head up and smiling at me. “Yeah. If you’re game.”

  Her hands start to move down my body, and I catch them in mine, lift both of them to my lips before she can do any more damage.

  Damn, I might fucking well explode by the end of this night.

  “Let’s go.”

  I bring all of my stuff down to the pool with me, not wanting to overstep whatever the boundaries are by going back to her room when we’re done. There’s a half moon out that lights part of our way, and I manage to sneak myself and Alex into the pool area undetected. Even if someone were to catch us, I hooked up one of the night security guards with his job last year, and I know he’ll look the other way if need be.

  Cruz is right that I do have connections here, though probably not nearly as many and to the extent that he thinks. My connections are out here trying to make it, just like me, and yeah, they help me out sometimes and I help them out. Not because I’m keeping track of things, not because I’m planning on cashing in on what I think is owed to me later. Not like my brother.

  I’m still angry over the idea that Cruz thinks I owe him for running to the gang for protection. That he blames me for the lot in life that he chose.

  I understand the fear, the desperation that he felt back when we were kids because I was right there with him and felt it, too. There were plenty of times when our father had his tweaker friends over after Cruz and I went to bed. When we could, we’d sneak out of the house and go over to Elle’s because we didn’t feel safe. When we couldn’t, we’d take turns keeping watch for each other. Cruz slept with his baseball bat in arm’s reach more often than not.