“No, Zoe. I didn’t. But that doesn’t mean I regret it, either. And don’t even think I’m going to apologise for it. It was hot as hell, and I look forward to doing it again. Soon. But for now will you please come back inside and talk to me?”
“Just talk?” I don’t know if I was trying to convince him or me.
“I promise. No funny business. Well, unless you start it.” He winked, and I felt my knees buckle as I stumbled forward straight against Connor’s chiselled chest. Holding me to him with one arm, he shut the door of my car behind me before kissing my temple. “We’re not even going to make it until dinner time,” Connor grumbled as he led me back towards the house.
Just as I was about to follow him up the steps, I stopped and unwound myself from him, instantly missing his warmth. “Wait!”
Running across the yard, I could hear Connor calling out, asking what I was doing and where I was going. He must have thought I was taking off again. I guess I could see why he’d think that, but I wasn’t. I just needed to grab my bag from the floor. Even though I trusted Derek and Mia implicitly, I needed to keep my phone handy just in case.
Tucking my bag under my arm, I headed back to where Connor was pacing, his hands on his head. “Had to grab my bag,” I offered in a way of explanation. Heaving out the sigh, Connor dropped his hands and picked me up, carrying me back inside.
“Why do you always do that?” I ask as I burrowed my face against his neck, breathing him in.
“Do what?”
“Pick me up and carry me around? I weigh a tonne. You’ll hurt yourself…”
Setting me down in the kitchen, Connor didn’t back away. In fact, he stepped even closer. I can smell him and I’m biting my tongue to stop myself from licking him. Connor reached out and grabbed my hips, tugging me into him so we were pressed against each other. I’m wishing I’d slowed down long enough to put my underwear back on. My nipples are pebbled and straining against the all too thin fabric of my shirt, and I’m sure Connor can feel them poking into his chest. When he glances down between us, I know he knows exactly what he’s doing to me. The smug smirk the bastard is sporting reminds me that he’s quite enjoying watching me struggle.
“Zoe, you do not weigh a tonne. You weigh hardly anything. Do you eat? You’ve lost weight since you’ve been back.”
He’s right. I have, but that’s not a bad thing. Trust me. After having Lachlan, I looked and felt like a lump. Lately though, I’ve been so busy with everything I’ve skipped a meal or two. No big deal. Some days I’m not even hungry, so I don’t bother. Then there are others where I’m simply too tired to get up and find some food. I think the lack of food while breastfeeding contributed to dropping twelve kilos without any effort on my part. If I could only get rid of the last pesky five I’d be a happy girl. Or happier at least.
“I eat. You’ve seen me eat!” I protested.
“Well, tonight you better. We’re having steak, salad, and baked potatoes.”
“I didn’t come for dinner, Connor.”
“Well, I’m not letting you leave until you’ve eaten.”
“You’re not letting me?” If there was one thing that bugged the shit out of me, it was being told what to do. I didn’t like it one bit. Yet from Connor, I didn’t know if it was the hungry way he was looking at me or the gravelly sound of his voice, I found myself not wanting to junk punch him for it.
“That’s what I said. Did you not understand me?”
“Oh, I understood you perfectly. Sir,” I added sassily.
His hands left my hips and found their way to my ass. Suddenly I was hyper aware that I was not wearing anything under my jeans. When Connor’s huge paws squeezed my cheeks, I moaned wantonly and found myself rubbing my heavy boobs against him. All I could do was pray they didn’t start leaking again. I’d already been caught out and humiliated once before by wet patches spreading on my shirt. Thankfully, Connor was polite enough to not point it out.
“Keep going like that and I’ll be having you for dinner.” Connor sucked on my neck and what little resolve I had snapped.
“Fuck! Yes please!” I begged as I wriggled in Connor’s embrace until I was straddling his denim-clad thigh. I didn’t need much. I was so wet all it was going to take was a little friction in the right spot and I was going to explode.
He knew. He knew exactly what I wanted and how to give it to me. “Zoe,” he growled before plunging his talented tongue into my mouth and rolling his leg just right so the seam of my jeans pressed where I needed it. Digging my nails into Connor’s biceps, he growled as he squeezed even harder. Pulling away, I gasped for a breath as I shattered into a million pieces in his arms. Once the fog from my orgasm lifted, I realised what I’d just done. Humiliation consumed me. I’d just dry humped Connor’s leg. In his kitchen, no less. I was a freak. Dropping my eyes, I untangled myself and stepped back, not once looking up. Connor’s creepy mind reading tricks were back at it as he lifted my chin with his hand.
“Don’t you dare even think it. That was hot as fuck, Zoe.”
Before I could protest, he kissed me again and my embarrassment evaporated. The things this man could do with his mouth was enough to inspire world peace.
Eventually, we separated. My chest was heaving. Connor had quite literally stolen my breath again. Before I managed to get too far, he came back and kissed my forehead. “Why don’t you go upstairs and get cleaned up? I’ll put dinner on.”
It sounded so normal. It was intimidating. I could see the outline of his erection tenting his jeans and, on his thigh, the wet patch I’d left, but he was ignoring them both. I couldn’t, though. Even though I felt sleepy and satisfied, he wasn’t.
“Can I borrow your shower?” I asked nervously. Considering everything that had happened in the last forty minutes, for some reason asking to use his shower seemed more intimate.
“Go for it. There’s clean towels in the cupboard.”
“Thanks. Are you going to join me?” There was really no point in playing games now. I know what I wanted, and unless Connor was a complete moron, he knew too. Him. Naked. Now.
Reaching down, he adjusted himself, and then did up the button on his jeans that had been taunting me. “Not this time.”
I felt like someone had just popped me. Like a balloon, I was deflating rapidly. His rejection stung. I wasn’t used to being the one who put myself out there. The one who asked for what I wanted, especially not sexually, and this right here was why. Rejection fucking hurt.
“Don’t look at me like that! If I go up those stairs, neither of us are coming back down until morning.”
“And the problem with that is?”
“I said I would feed you. And I’m keeping that promise.”
At least it wasn’t because he didn’t want me. Pouting, I walked over to where Connor was standing and pushed my way in between him and the kitchen bench he’d put between us. “What if I’m not hungry?” I ducked my head and licked his nipple, giggling as he trembled.
I was so close to getting away with it.
So close to breaking Connor’s steely resolve.
So close to tormenting and teasing him into tossing me over his shoulder and carrying me upstairs and doing wicked things to me for the rest of the night.
I almost had him.
Then my traitorous stomach grumbled. Loudly.
“Nice try.” Pulling me off him, he lifted me up and set me down on the kitchen bench. Spreading my legs, he stepped between them and kissed me deeply. It was one of those kisses you felt in your toes. One I never wanted to end. But when my stomach gurgled again, the bubble burst. Helping me down, Connor shooed me up the stairs with a swift swat on the ass.
I felt better after a hot shower, and I smelt better too. Or more to the point, I smelt like Connor. After using his shampoo and body wash, I was ready to curl up in a ball and sleep. Not wanting to put on my dirty clothes, I raided Connor’s closet yet again. After rolling up the legs of his sweat pants, I’d found a hoodie an
d followed my nose back downstairs.
“Smells yummy,” I commented, coming into the kitchen to see Connor’s ass poking up in the air, his head in the oven.
I watched as he pulled the pan from the oven and set it on the counter. The table was set, the wine glasses filled, and the plates ready to go. As Connor set the potatoes out beside the steak and greens, he looked up at me.
“Holy shit, Zoe!”
“What? What’s wrong? Did you burn yourself?” Rounding the corner, I came into the kitchen and took his hands in mine, checking for burns.
“What? No. I didn’t burn myself.”
“Oh. What’s wrong then?”
“You!”
“Me? What’d I do?”
“Look at you.”
“What’s wrong with me?” Looking down, I couldn’t see what the big deal was. Sure, I was still missing underwear, but I was completely covered up. Except for my toes. Surely Connor wasn’t offended by chipped nail polish.
“You’re wearing my clothes.”
“I didn’t think you’d mind.”
“Mind? Mind? Of course, I don’t fucking mind.”
Okay, now I was really confused. Had Connor been sniffing glue while I’d been upstairs? His reactions were giving me whiplash.
Taking the plates from his hands, I set them on the table and turned to face him. “What the fuck is your problem?”
“Sit down,” Connor growled, pulling out a chair.
I slumped into the chair, exhausted and ravenous. Without saying anything, I cut off a piece of steak and popped it in my mouth. Oh. My. God. It was the most delicious, perfectly cooked piece of meat I’d ever bitten into. “This is really good,” I complimented between mouthfuls.
“Thanks. I’m not the world’s best cook, but I can handle a steak,” Connor admitted proudly.
“Yeah, you can.”
With each bite, the tension evaporated a little and my racing heartbeat slowed. We chatted, easily avoiding the conversation we should’ve been having. Every time I went to bring it up, something else came out of my mouth.
Pushing my plate away, I rubbed my belly. I was stuffed. It’d been lovely, but there was no way I could finish it. Connor raised an eyebrow at my half-eaten steak, but thankfully kept his mouth shut. Finishing my wine, I noticed Connor’s barely touched glass.
“Don’t you like the wine?”
“Not really. I’m not really a big wine drinker. I’m more a beer kinda guy.”
“Why’d you pour it then?”
“I thought you’d prefer wine.” He shrugged, collecting the plates and going into the kitchen.
Clearing what was left, I followed him. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Don’t do something because you think I want you to. Don’t pretend. Not with me. That’s not what I want.”
Connor swallowed deeply, and I watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. “Wh-what do you want then?”
Fuck! What a loaded question. There were so many things I wanted to say. So many thoughts on the tip of my tongue. Instead, I stepped up to the sink, turned on the tap, and watched it fill with water. “Right now, I want to wash up this mess.”
I heard the huff as Connor’s whole body went lax. It was like he was on high alert, waiting to see what I did next. It was fun teasing him, but right now he looked more like I was stressing him more than teasing. Guilt flooded me.
“You don’t have to…”
“Why don’t you go have a shower while I clean up?”
“I can clean it up.”
“You cooked. I’m cleaning.”
“Okay. Fine. If I go have a quick shower, will you still be here when I get back?” he asked nervously. I guess I deserved that. It wasn’t the first time I’d tried to run.
“Yep.”
“Sure?”
“Promise.” Digging my hands in the bubbles, I focused on what I was doing. At least I tried to. When Connor stepped up behind me, holding me captive between his body and the sink, I was glad he was there. If he wasn’t, I would’ve slid down the cupboard until I ended up as nothing more than a puddle on the floor.
“You better be,” he growled into my ear.
A shiver rushed through me, and I heard Connor laughing as he headed up the stairs. After a couple of minutes, I remembered what I was supposed to be doing and turned my attention back to the stack of dishes.
By the time I finished, the kitchen sparkled. With nothing else to do, I picked up Connor’s abandoned wine glass. No use letting good wine go to waste, and went into the lounge room before sinking into the lounge. A moment later Connor reappeared, his hair dripping on his tight blue t-shirt and a beer in his hand.
“How long have I got you for?”
“I’m going to have to go soon.” As soon as I said it I realised how much I didn’t want to leave. Hanging out with Connor was always an experience. Whether we had our clothes on or off, we had fun. He drove me crazy and challenged me, but I loved every minute of it.
“Do you have to?” He nuzzled against my neck.
Sighing, I tipped my head away from him giving him more room to work. “Yeah. I have to go get Lachlan.”
“He’s not staying the night with Derek?” He bit down on my earlobe and it sent a tingle straight to my already sensitive clit.
“N-no.” But damn, did that sound like a great idea.
For someone who’d gone more than twelve months without anything more than a few self-inflicted orgasms, the two I’d had in the last few hours suddenly weren’t enough. I wanted more. I needed it. And I needed them the way only Connor knew how.
“Can you pass me my phone?” I asked, pointing at my bag on the floor beside Connor’s bare feet.
Connor looked disappointed, but did as I asked. While he shuffled back a little and toyed with the label on his bottle, I quickly tapped out a message. While I waited for a reply, I focused on my wine. It didn’t even take a minute, yet it felt like everything was hanging on Derek’s reply.
Derek: See you in the morning. Have fun. Xoxo
“You gotta go?”
Without answering, I gulped down the last of my glass and set it aside. Taking a deep breath, I ignored the nagging in the back of my head and reached for the hem of Connor’s hoodie I was wearing. Peeling it over my head, I was naked underneath.
“W-what are you doing?” Connor was breathless, his eyes not leaving my aching boobs, and his hungry stare turned my nipples to diamond hard points.
“Can I stay?” Even though I was topless, my words made me more anxious. If he said no now, there was no coming back from this point for me.
Silently, Connor finished his beer before pouncing on me. With all his weight on me, pressing down, I breathed him in.
“You’re not going anywhere.” Slamming his mouth over mine, Connor claimed me, and I was more than a willing participant.
After a serious make out session that left me breathless and wanting, I begged Connor to take me to bed. He didn’t disappoint. With me clinging to him like a koala and our mouths fused together, he carried me up the stairs and tossed me on his bed.
Chapter Sixteen
Connor
It was a dream. It had to be. Stretching out, I winced as muscles I didn’t even know I had protested. Feeling out beside me, I was disappointed when my hand touched cool sheets instead of a warm woman. Maybe Zoe was in the bathroom or downstairs making breakfast. Not that I expected her to cook for me. As long as she was still in the house, I’d be a very happy boy.
Rolling over, I grabbed my phone to check the time. As my fingers closed around it, I knocked something to the ground. Leaning over the edge of the mattress, I saw what I’d sent flying.
Cash.
Fifty-dollar notes were scattered across my bedroom floor.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”
Instantly all the warm, fuzzy feelings that I’d woken with evaporated, and ice replaced them. I wanted to wring her neck
. I knew Zoe was stubborn, hell, we both were, but this was going too far. Last night between energetic rounds of some frankly mind-blowing sex, we’d talked and laughed. Somewhere around three we stopped having superficial conversations and talked about real things. We were on the same page. Zoe confessed her deepest fears of making the decision to move here permanently and while I understood where she was coming from, I couldn’t agree. For my part, I laid myself on the line. I admitted wanting her to not only choose to stay, but to choose me.
When she’d asked how that would even work, that it wasn’t just her, I shocked the shit out of her with my answer. I knew she and Lachlan were a package deal, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I wanted them both and would do whatever it took to make them part of my life. My response must have set aside every fear she had, because a moment later I was enjoying the best blow job I’d ever received. That girl could suck cock like a pro.
Seeing the cash on my carpet made my stomach churn. She might give head like a pro, but she’d just treated me like I was the hooker. That was fucked. And there was no way I was taking this lying down.
Tugging on the nearest pair of pants and shirt I found, I stomped down the stairs, not even bothering to visit the bathroom to wash up and brush my teeth. With my anger spurring me on, I found my keys and was out the door without pausing to think. If I thought about it, I’d probably punch a hole through the wall.
Driving way too fast, I rounded the corner, the back of my ute kicking out, causing me to swerve wildly.
“Fuck!” I yelled as I eased off the accelerator. I might have been pissed, but I didn’t have a death wish.
Sucking in deep breaths, I forced myself to loosen my grip on the steering wheel as I made my way into town. I had no idea what I was going to say, but I had to refrain from wringing her hickey-covered neck.
With the sound of sirens interrupting the AC/DC blasting from the stereo, I looked up and spied the flashing lights in my rear-view mirror. “Of course.”
Flicking on my indicator, I pulled over and turned the car off. Scrubbing a hand over my face, I realised how not prepared I was right now. I didn’t have my phone or my wallet with me. I’d swiped my keys from the table and taken off. I wasn’t even wearing shoes. Or underwear. Maybe there really was something in Mum’s theory never leave home without underwear.
Meet The McIntyres - The Complete Series Page 109