by Megyn Ward
I lay here, breath sawing through my lungs so quick and heavy, I feel like I just ran an eight-minute mile. Raising my shoulders off the mattress, I look down the length of my torso, knowing what I’ll see.
My hand glued to my cock.
Henley’s panties and my abs covered in cum.
Flopping back onto the bed I squeeze my eyes shut, hearing an almost audible click as my brain comes back online to sum up the situation in two words that have become my personal mantra.
Pathetic shitsack.
Twelve
Henley
Conner took my panties.
I knelt in the dark, feeling around for them for what felt like hours, panic mounting. I imagined them kicked into a corner or wedged under one of the shelves, waiting to be found by a janitor or someone who wanders in here, looking for an actual book and not a dark corner to get off.
When I realized they were gone, I felt a momentary blast of relief, with indignation hot on its heels.
He took them to mess with me.
Just another way to get under my skin.
I straightened my skirt and tucked in my shirt before shrugging into my jacket. Then I took the staff elevator to my second-floor office and spent the last twenty minutes hiding from Margo, waiting for five o’clock.
I should just leave.
Go home.
I don’t need Conner to go with me to find my dad. I can ask Tess. I bet she could find him. She’d go with me.
That’ll show him.
Pleasure doing business with you, Daisy.
I feel my cheeks warm, the heat sweeping down my neck and across my breasts. Down the length of me to pool between my legs.
The clock on my computer rolls over.
It’s five o’clock.
I call the concierge and request that someone pick up my car from the library. You would’ve I told him he’d been made the sole heir of Spencer’s fortune.
After I hang up, I turn off my computer and pull my purse from the bottom drawer of my desk, dropping my phone and my keys into it before slinging it onto my shoulder.
I turn out the light and lock the door, pulling it shut behind me. Giving brief consideration to saying goodbye to Margo, I decide against it. Rather than risk seeing her, I take the stairs to the first-floor, slipping out the side exit that leads to the parking lot.
I don’t know why I’m surprised that he’s here, waiting for me as promised but I am. So surprised I stumble a little when I see him, leaning against the trunk of a mean-looking muscle car, painted a flat black. Thick, muscular arms folded over his chest. He’s wearing different clothes. A long-sleeved henley, it’s top two buttons open at the throat, exposing the tattoo that wraps around his neck. The jeans are darker. Newer.
He doesn’t smile when he sees me. No cocky grin. No Heya, Daisy. No smartass smirk. He just watches me, his gaze dark and hooded. Legs crossed at the ankle, one boot planted in the ground while the other is poised on its toe, like he’s ready to run.
When I get close, he moves, skirting the trunk he was leaning against to open the passenger door for me. He stands ramrod straight, hand poised on the door handle, waiting for me to get in so he can shut it behind me.
Slipping past him, I feel his gaze rake over me as I slide into my seat, the smell of him now familiar enough for me recognize its different Sharper somehow.
As soon as he slides into the driver seat and shuts the door, I turn in my seat.
“I want them back.”
The corner of his mouth lifts in something too grim to be considered a smile. “You want what back?”
He turns the key and the car roars to life, its rumbling engine drowning out the sound of my voice.
“You know what.” I practically shout while I watch him drag his seatbelt across his chest to click it into place. Then he turns in his head and stares at me expectantly and I scramble to follow suit, fastening my seatbelt as fast as I can.
As soon as I’m secured, he shifts his car in to gear.
“I’ve taken a lot of things from you over the past few days, Daisy.” This time the smile he gives me looks more like Conner, his dimple winking at me so fast I almost didn’t catch it. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to be more specific.
His reminder forms a lump in my throat. One that makes it hard to breathe. “My panties.” I force the words out, thin and raspy.
“Oh. Those.” He leans back in his seat, arm extended, hand causally wrapped around the steering wheel while he pilots the car through an intersection. “You don’t want them back.”
“Yes, I do,” I say, hands knotted into fists. “They’re La Perla. Do you know expensive they are? They—”
“Judging by the way they felt on my cock when I was fucking them a few minutes ago, I’d say they were pretty pricey.”
He says it in a conversational tone that stalls the breath in my lungs and squeezes my throat tight even as I try to convince myself that he didn’t just say what I think he said. I misheard him. Misunderstood. He’s just being Conner, trying to get a rise out of me.
“I’m serious.” I aim my gaze out my window because I can’t look at him. Because what if—
“So am I.” He flips his blinker on and pulls into a parking lot. Not the dive bar he told me he’d take me to, so I can find my father. Benny’s. He’s taking me to Benny’s. Pulling into a parking space, he kills the engine before turning in his seat. “Look at me, Henley.”
I can’t.
But I do. I turn in my seat. Force myself to look at him.
As soon as our eyes meet, he speaks. “I made you come in my mouth, and then I went home and jerked off with your panties.”
I turn in my seat again. Facing the windshield, I close my eyes. An image pushes its way to the front of my brain. Of Conner stoking the rigid length of his shaft with what’s mine. Rubbing me all over himself. Thinking about me while he does it. Coming with my name in his mouth.
I’m having a hard time breathing. I have to part my lips to pull in a full breath and even then, it’s like I’m breathing in a vacuum, void of oxygen.
“Say something.” His tone has gone heavy. Quiet. Like he expects me to freak out on him. Call him a pervert. Tell him how sick he is.
Like he might even want me to.
“What are we doing here?” That’s what I say because I can’t say what I really want to say.
Show me.
Show me how.
I want to see.
He doesn’t say anything. For one long moment, he just stares at me. “I need to eat,” he finally says, turning away from me to pull the keys out of the ignition. “I haven’t since last night, and Tess has been riding my ass all day. She’ll call Nora and check.”
I hate the way that makes me feel. Ugly and envious. Jealous of her for having that kind of power over him. Because she has the right to worry about him. Make him want to take care of himself, even if it’s just so she won’t nag him.
“Don’t worry,” he says, popping open his door to step a foot outside. “I won’t ask you to come in with me.”
He gets out of the car and is halfway across the parking lot before I can say a word.
You can’t go in there.
People will see you.
They’ll know.
Ladies are never the subject of idle gossip.
I get out of the car and follow him.
Thirteen
Conner
I meant to do this before I picked her up. I’d been on my way here when I suddenly found myself in the library parking lot. Ten minutes after that, I had my tongue buried in Henley’s pussy. Fifteen minutes after that, I had her taste in my mouth and her panties wrapped around my cock. Food took a very sudden and violent plunge off my list of priorities.
Everything did.
But I promised Tess.
“Eat food,” she shouted at me over the din of whatever hair band she was listening to as I buzzed past her. If she noticed that I changed clothes, she didn’t
say. “You know I’ll call and check so just make it easy on yourself and do what I’m telling you.”
Yeah, she will. And if Nora tells her I didn’t come in, she’ll park herself on my doorstep until I get home and force me to take her for pancakes at some ungodly hour.
It’s just easier to do what she says.
As usual the place is packed. I push my way into the crowd, blading through clumps of college kids and knots of uppity white-collar types. The college kids recognize me. Whisper and point while the soft yuppies glare at me because most of them are regulars and know I get preferential treatment. They also know complaining about it will get them tossed out on their asses. And that’s if they’re lucky.
“Was wondering when you were gonna show that pretty face of yours,” Nora calls out to me from her perch, as soon as I’m close enough to hear her.
I lean across the podium she’s standing at and give her a grin. “There’s my girl.” I haven’t been in here since Thursday. Four days, which in Nora time is like forty years. “Did you miss me as much as I missed you?”
“Probably not.” She cackles at her own joke, smacking her bony fingers against my cheek. “Startin’ to think someone’s husband tossed you out a window.”
“You worried about me, Nora?” I capture the hand she smacked me with and raise it to my lips to kiss the back of it.
“No use worrying about what don’t want to be fixed,” she says, giving my hand a quick squeeze before she pulls it from my grip. “You want your booth.”
Despite what I said to Henley, I have no intention of leaving her in the car while I eat. “Actually, if you just want to grab me something from—”
“Assume she’s with you?” Nora aims her sharp, dark eyes over my shoulder and I turn, more out of reflex than actual expectation.
Henley is standing just inside the door, hand poised on the push bar, eyes wide and unsure, body turned like she’s about to cut and run.
Before I can answer her, Nora raises her voice to cut through the noise. “Get your fancy ass up here, Rita. I ain’t got all day.”
People are looking at her. Know she’s with me. I expect her to bolt. She wants to. I can see it. But she doesn’t.
Weaving her way through the crowd, Henley stops a few feet away from me. “I’m hungry.” She says it to my shoulder, but I don’t care.
She’s here.
She’s with me.
It’s taking everything I have not to not reach out and touch her to make sure she’s really here.
“You know where you’re going.” Nora waves us off, her gaze, narrowed and suspicious, on Henley’s face. I remember what she told me, that Nora accused her of breaking my heart when we were kids. Henley what right. Nora does look like she wants to rip her throat out.
I lean across the podium and she tilts her cheek up so I can drop a kiss on it. “You’re my best girl.”
Nora snorts, giving Henley some serious side-eye. “I better be,” she says, shooing us away.
As soon as we slide into the worn vinyl booth, Tina buzzes by and takes our drink order. “Need a minute?” she says to Henley who has her head buried in a menu, so she won’t have to look at me.
“Yes, please.” She darts her gaze and a quick smile upward before refocusing on the menu. From the corner of my eye I catch Tina’s sly smile before she walks away.
“Who’s Rita?”
I look at her, expecting her face to still be buried in her menu. It isn’t. She’s looking right at me.
I take in her fiery red hair and her wide brown eyes, the way her freckles are trying to fight their way through the chemicals she rubs into her skin, while trying to ignore how perfect her nose is. How straight her teeth are. That my lungs seem to be full of glass. That’s how beautiful she is. So beautiful it hurts to breathe around her. Which isn’t anything new.
She’s always been that beautiful to me.
“Probably Rita Hayworth.” I shrug, looking down at the menu I have memorized so I don’t have to look at her anymore. “It’s a Nora’s thing. She’ll call you Rita from now on. As far as she’s concern, it’s your God-given name.”
“What does she call you?”
The question makes me laugh. “The Gilroy boys are exempt from her re-naming policy.”
A couple of suits walk by, on their way to their table. They look at me and then they look at Henley, their expression raising the hackles on the back of my neck. Like they’re trying to figure out what someone like her is doing with someone like me. She pretends not notice to them, the way they’re looking at her, but I know she does. She looks worried. Like she’s seconds away from excusing herself to the bathroom so she can climb out the window.
“You didn’t have to come in,” I say, the tone of my voice, angry and hurt, instantly wanting to punch myself in the face.
“Of course, I did. You’re taking time out of your day to help me,” she says to the menu. “Buying you dinner is the least I can do.”
I laugh at the one. “You’re not buying me dinner, Daisy.”
My tone must sound sharper than I intended because it brings her gaze up to my face. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those ridiculous Neanderthals who can’t allow a woman to treat them to a meal.”
“No,” I tell her, leaning into the table. “But considering how I ruined your panties, I think the least I can do is buy you a burger.” Saying it reminds me that she’s not wearing any right now. That’s she’s completely naked under her skirt. Suddenly my reason for not being able to breathe has nothing to do with how beautiful she is.
“Like I told you, they were La Perla.” She refocuses on the menu and gives it a flip to scan the back. “You’d have to buy me a lot more than a burger to make up for ruining them.” She set’s the menu aside and looks at me, folding her hands in her lap. “And if you want to get technical, you ruined two pairs.”
“Two?” I flash her my dimples. “Are you sure? I think I would’ve remembered doing that twice.”
“The pair you took, plus the pair you ripped off of me on Thursday night.” She holds my gaze despite the fact that I can practically feel the urge she has to chew off her own arm to get away from me. “I might not hold a doctorate in advanced mathematics, but I think I can manage simple addition.”
Shit.
I forgot about that. How desperate I was to get at her. Get inside her. How crazy it made me feel.
Sort of like I’m feeling now, only now it’s worse because I know.
I know who she is.
What it feels like to make her come.
What my name sounds like in her mouth while she does.
Fourteen
Henley
I can feel people staring at us. Trying figure out what someone like Conner would be doing with someone like me. Someone prim and proper. Someone who wears Chanel suits and her hair in a bun. Pearls around her throat and diamonds stuck in her ears.
Someone who doesn’t belong with him.
Maybe that’s why I said it. Why I’m forcing myself to stay put, even though I want nothing more than to run out of here like the place in on fire. Because I told Patrick the truth last night. Because I know everyone who is staring at us, trying to figure us out, is right.
Conner and I don’t belong together.
We don’t fit. Never did.
But I want us to.
“We should probably stop talking about your panties, Daisy.” He lifts his mug from the table and takes a drink. “Unless of course you’re interested in having me drag you out of this booth and jerk that skirt of yours up again, in front of god and this whole fucking restaurant, so I can bend you over the table before we’ve even had a chance to order.”
There’s an older couple sitting behind him. The woman is facing me and it’s clear she heard what Conner just said because she suddenly looks like she’s having hot flashes while the man she’s with chuckles.
You wouldn’t dare.
That’s what I’m about to say but something tel
ls me I wouldn’t get two syllables out before he made good on his promise. The absolutely insane part is that I want him to.
So instead, I clear my throat, shifting my gaze a little to the left because as usual, I can’t look at him and breathe at the same time. “People are staring at us.”
He looks at me over the rim of his mug before shifting his gaze to let it roam around the restaurant. “It’s not you they’re looking at.” He takes another drink before setting it down. “It’s me. I’m usually in here at least once a day and most of the people in here are regulars. The only woman they’re used to seeing me with is Tess.”
“So where do you take the women you date?” It’s a stupid question. One that’s really none of my business. One he doesn’t seem to want to answer.
“I’ve never been on a date.” He shrugs, leaning back in his seat to stretch his legs out in front of himself under the table. “I don’t count taking Jessica Renfro to the movies in my mom’s minivan.”
I think about the way she used to spin off into orbit whenever Conner was around. How convinced she was that he liked her. How nasty she became she realized he didn’t. “I’m sure she’d disagree with you.”
He arches an eyebrow at me. “I care even less about what Jessica thinks now than I did eight years ago.”
“Tess told me that she and Declan are getting married.” I lift my own mug because I’m nervous and I need to do something with my hands besides stare at them in my lap. “How did that happen?”
“I told her to fuck off and she moved on to my brother.” Conner’s mouth works like he’s got a bad taste he can’t shake. “And like an idiot, he let her sink her claw in.”
“They’ve been together this whole time?”
“No—just a few years.” He shrugs, giving me a narrow-eyed look. “What else did Tess tell you?”