Playing At Love: A Rogue Series Novel

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Playing At Love: A Rogue Series Novel Page 29

by Lara Ward Cosio


  “Send those to me. Then you’d better delete them.”

  He swiped through the photos, enamored with what he saw. The two of them fit well, making a natural, particularly Irish-looking couple. They looked happy.

  “Why would I delete them?” he asked absently.

  “You wouldn’t want your fiancée to stumble upon these.” She slid off of his lap and stood up.

  He looked up at her. “Don’t you know you’re who I want, Fee?” he asked. “I want you.”

  “Con, you’re not thinking.”

  “No, it’s just the opposite, honey. I’m thinking clearly for the first time in ages.”

  “It was just sex—”

  “Really good sex,” he interjected.

  She smiled. “Yes, it was very good sex, but that’s all it has to be,” she said. “This doesn’t have to change anything.”

  “Listen, I’m going to book a flight to New York so I can break things off with Colette in person. First flight I can get. I’m going to end it before I do something as stupid as marry someone I don’t love.”

  She sat down opposite him. “But all you’ve done these past months is tell me she’s the one for you, that you love her."

  "I was only fooling myself, forcing this idea of what I thought I should be doing."

  "Tell me something. Would you have come to this same conclusion if I hadn't been around?"

  He dropped his eyes from hers, trying to envision the last months of his life without Felicity.

  "I thought not," she said.

  "I've always been honest with you. Even when it made me look like an arsehole," he said and she smiled. "So I'm not going to stop now. I really don't know if I would have sorted things without you being here to . . . inspire this decision."

  "Which is why I think you're being too quick now.”

  “But if it wasn’t for you,” he continued, undeterred, “I do believe I’d have gotten myself into a bad marriage.”

  She met his eyes for a long moment. “I don't want to be the reason for you breaking it off.”

  He considered this, trying to sort out the implication. “What does that mean? Are you not interested in being with me?”

  “That’s not the point, is what I’m saying. You need to be clear on why you don’t want to keep your plans with Colette.”

  “Why are you suddenly Colette’s biggest fan?”

  She laughed. “I’m really not, as you know. I just want to know this isn’t an impulse.”

  “Fee, every good time I’ve had over the last few months has been with you. That’s what I realized when I was playing just now. It settled upon me so clearly. I didn’t trust myself after the mistakes I’ve made in the past. I’ve been scared that I didn’t know how to make the right decisions in relationships, and so I’ve been forcing what I thought was logical. Turns out it makes no sense at all. Not with her. If it makes me a dick to back out, then so be it. Because the bottom fucking line is that you are the one that makes me happy and all I want is to be with you and make you happy in return.”

  She smiled at this declaration and blinked back tears. He held his hand out to her across the small table. Standing up, she took it and then straddled him where he sat. She kissed him teasingly around the corners of his mouth.

  “Shall I tell you the truth now, Con?” she asked softly.

  He moved his hands inside her open shirt, squeezing her bare breasts. “Always tell me the truth, honey.”

  Their earlier passion was quickly reignited as they kissed without inhibition as he caressed her breasts. He unbuttoned her shirt all the way and wrapped his arm around her torso as he pushed her backward so he could trail his lips and tongue over the sensitive skin around her nipples. She couldn’t handle the teasing long and straightened up, hungry to feel his mouth on hers. Then she leaned back on his thighs, pulled open the front of his pants and when his hardness was free she pushed aside her panties to take him into her with a sharp intake of breath. He filled her in the most deliciously all-encompassing way.

  “God you feel good,” she said, and he moaned in response.

  He started to grab her hips but stopped short, watching with pleasure as she slowly grinded on him. Their connection was once again both natural and electric, with the desire to give and receive pleasure without complication.

  Felicity leaned into him as she neared climax, pressing her face against his neck and focusing on his quickening breath.

  “Come for me,” she whispered and moved her hips in a circular motion. “Come with me.”

  She let herself go and in the next moment he was right there with her, moaning in her ear and fingers squeezing her backside.

  They stayed pressed together for a time, with her face buried into his neck. She could feel his heart beating in the quiet between them. With a contented sigh, she started to pull away. He stopped her with an arm wrapped firmly around her waist.

  “Tell me your truth,” he said and slowly kissed her neck over and over again.

  “It’s . . . it seems to me that though this feels very good,” she said and he nodded emphatically with a grin, making her laugh even though she had a serious point to make, “it’s not actually real.”

  She carefully got up and pulled her panties into place as he watched her with furrowed brow.

  “You’re soon going to realize that you have a gorgeous young fiancée and a wedding planned in a matter of days. Even if you broke with Colette, there’s a good chance you and I would only last a little while. I’m just being realistic,” she said when he opened his mouth to protest. “You’re a rock star with a history of an inability to commit. The odds are not in favor of us being anything more than a very lovely . . . interlude.”

  With that, she turned and headed toward the bedroom.

  “You’re wrong!” he called after her.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

  Conor stayed the night, in part because when he followed Felicity to the bedroom after her declaration that they were hopeless together, he found she was in the shower. He had taken off his pants and fallen into bed, wondering why she was pushing him away after the connection they had shared. And then he had fallen asleep.

  At some point during the night, he half-woke and reached out for her. She was on her back beside him, her body warm from a deep sleep. He pulled back the blankets and began to ease her panties down. She had sleepily helped him by lifting her hips. Then he moved her legs apart and slowly opened her with his tongue. She started but just as quickly, he could hear her moan and feel her hands in his hair. He teased her until she moved her pelvis against his mouth anxiously and then he brought her to orgasm. Before she could catch her breath, he turned her on her side and entered her from behind. With her breast cupped in one hand and his other bracing her by the hip, he soon drew his own climax.

  ~

  It took Felicity a minute in the morning to discern whether she had been dreaming about sex with Conor or if it had been real. Then she heard him in the shower and smiled at the very real memory of how he had taken her in the middle of the night.

  She turned onto her belly on the bed and saw that his cell phone was on the nightstand. Picking it up, she was surprised it wasn’t password protected. She found the pictures he had taken of them with his phone the night before. The images made her smile as they really captured the beauty of the moment they had shared. She selected all six of the photographs and used his email to send them to her account.

  Once the email was on its way, she was returned to his photo album and she couldn’t resist the temptation to see what other images he had stored. She swiped backward from their pictures and saw the sweetest thing. There was a photo of his smiling parents as they sat closely together holding hands. After a moment, she continued swiping and found random shots from Los Angeles, including views of the Hollywood Hills, an extreme close-up of the frets on an electric guitar, a photo of a large group of people in one of the hotel pool cabanas.

  And then there was a photo of Cole
tte and Conor, clearly taken while they were in bed together as they were lying against pillows and looking up at the phone he held. He had one eyebrow raised and his best “smoldering” rock star expression on his face and Colette was barely containing a laugh as she did her best supermodel pose. Though the photo cut off at their upper chests, it appeared they were naked. And having fun with each other.

  “Ugh,” she moaned and turned onto her back.

  Almost absently, she looked through the next few photos, finding shots of Colette in what appeared to be her burlesque costumes. Her body was practically comic book proportions with large breasts, a small waist, and shapely hips. She was every girl’s envy and every man’s fantasy. Only Conor actually had her. It was hard for her to imagine him giving that up, especially for her.

  The next photo was of Conor and she found herself returning the enormous smile he had on his face as he laughed. Then she realized she could see in the reflection of his sunglasses that it was Colette taking the photo. More evidence of good times he had had with Colette, and contradicting his claim to her that every good time he had had lately was with her.

  She sighed and threw her forearm over her eyes.

  ~

  “Is that my cell there?”

  Startled, Felicity sat up quickly and saw Conor in the room with her, fresh from the shower with only a towel around his hips. She looked down at his phone clutched in her hand.

  “Em, yeah. I wanted to get the photos of us before I forgot.”

  He held out his hand and she gave it back to him. He glanced at what she had been looking at and didn’t know what to say. Was he supposed to apologize for having had this relationship with Colette? It was a simple fact that he had a history with her, one that until recently had been satisfying enough.

  “You got them, then?” he asked as he located the clothes he had hastily discarded earlier.

  “I did.”

  Nodding, he dropped his towel and dressed. “I think I should go to my place and sort out the flight there. Then I can get some fresh clothes.”

  “Of course.” She drew her knees up to her chest and realized she still wore his shirt. “Oh fuck. I’ll give you your shirt.”

  “It’s fine. Keep it.” He would happily wear his undershirt in order for her to hold on to the button-up shirt he had found so sexy on her.

  Ignoring him, she went to the small walk-in closet and pulled the string on the bare hanging bulb. With her back to him, she took off his shirt and looked for a suitable replacement. She hastily put on a bra but before she could grab a tee-shirt, he moved behind her. He wrapped his arms around her torso and shoulders, pressing the naked skin of his chest to her back.

  The warmth of their bodies connecting again felt intimate, and he closed his eyes in pleasure when she leaned into him and put her hands on his arms.

  “I can’t change the past,” he said softly, “but I can do something about the future.”

  “Conor, do what’s right for you. If you find she’s who you’re meant to be with, then who am I to interfere? I’m not holding you to anything. I . . . I am glad for this time together, though. If that’s all it comes to, it’ll be okay.”

  He let her go abruptly. “It’s good advice. Thanks for that. So fucking pragmatic,” he said, unable to keep bitterness from his voice.

  She turned to him. “One of us has to be.”

  “Oh, I see. You going to call me a child again?” It had stuck with him when she nonchalantly said the first time he stayed over at her house that he was still just a child and would grow up one day.

  She shook her head and he could see she didn’t want to fight. But he did. Why was she so quick to send him on his way back to Colette? Why did she want to second guess his resolve to end the engagement and be with her? He had finally made a considered, mature decision and her response was to dismiss his seriousness.

  “You know, I’m weary of trying to get past your goddamn walls.” Especially when I’ve just opened myself up, he wanted to add.

  “I never asked you to—”

  “Yeah, sure. I’m the idiot once again, is that what you’re telling me?”

  “I just—”

  “That’s bullshit,” he told her. “This blasé fucking attitude of sending me off packing to Colette, like you couldn’t be arsed.”

  “I just want you to think about this.”

  “How about giving me some fucking credit? I’ve taken my sweet time, but I’ve known for a long while that it wasn’t right with Colette. I just didn’t have the balls to stop it until now.”

  “I meant, think about the fact that I can’t give you what she can.”

  “You’re telling me this is some insecurity over looks? Even with me telling you you’re the one I want to be with?”

  She shook her head but he wouldn’t realize he had missed her point until much later. “Don’t do it for me, is what I’m saying.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Shall I pretend none of this happened with you, then? Is that what you want? Just had yourself a nice ride, is that it?”

  “That’s not what I—”

  “No, you were right. I need to be sure of how I feel before I do anything drastic.” He snatched his shirt from the floor and put it on hastily.

  She stood on tiptoe and kissed him, but he pulled away. He knew she meant it as a gesture to smooth over his frustration with her but he wasn’t interested. He gave her a short nod before walking out of the room. In the kitchen, he carefully put his guitar in its case, then let himself out of her house.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

  The apartment was quiet when Conor let himself in. He hadn’t told Colette he was coming as he didn’t want to get into a serious conversation over the phone. Now, he texted her to see where she was.

  While he waited for her reply, he wandered through the rooms of the place he had become so familiar with over the past three-plus years. It felt different now, though. He felt different. Like an intruder. He didn’t belong here anymore. That seismic shift of finally knowing and trusting his heart had changed everything.

  The tone for an incoming text sounded on his phone and he pulled up Colette’s message.

  “Wedding dress fitting! I’ll be home soon. Will call you then.”

  Conor let his head fall back and washed his free hand over his face.

  Great.

  He knew that her wedding dress was by an Israeli designer known for sophisticated, yet sexy form-fitting gowns, and it was in the range of ten-thousand dollars, despite the fact that it was not an original nor from the current season. The short timeframe of their wedding date made getting something haute couture impossible, and Colette hadn’t stopped moaning about it.

  They hadn’t talked since he had cut her off from their Skype connection to answer Felicity’s call. But as was her fashion, she had apparently thought giving him the silent treatment for a couple days was punishment enough and had let go of any grudge.

  Part of him had hoped she would still be angry with him so that the conversation might naturally go where he needed it to. He wouldn’t be so lucky. Not that he deserved for this to be easy.

  Despite the fight with Felicity and the uncertainty of whether she even wanted him, he knew breaking it off with Colette was the right thing to do. He had been pursuing a serious relationship with her out of a misguided sense that it was the way to move on from his years-long mistake of “coveting” (as Gavin said) that which he couldn’t have. Though he had at times felt genuine love for Colette, he knew that it wasn’t the kind of love he was really seeking. And he certainly wasn’t able to offer Colette what she deserved out of a husband. If he had ever doubted that before, his sleeping with Felicity had surely clarified that point.

  ~

  The waiting was grating on him. He watched the daylight start its inevitable process of gently fading as early evening came on and still no sight of Colette.

  He sat back into a leather sling back chair and looked at his phone. Without thinking, he
opened up the photos he had taken the day before with Felicity. Seeing them took him right back to that amazing feeling of contentment he had had in her arms. And in the next moment he felt the ache of missing her. It had all unfolded so unconventionally, but he was sure now that with Felicity he had found what he was looking for. But he wasn’t sure how she felt in return. Another woman might have pushed him to break with Colette, anxious to have his promise that the engagement was over so they could be together. But Felicity’s walls still held firm. That meant he was here in New York to end his relationship with Colette without any confidence that Felicity would be waiting for him.

  Opening his text feature, he selected Felicity and hesitated. He hadn’t contacted her since he left her place the day before and he wasn’t sure what message set the right tone.

  As he had confessed to her, he had always told her the truth whether that helped him or not. So he decided to keep that going.

  “Missing you,” he typed and quickly hit send.

  As he stared down at the text box, wondering what her reaction might be, he heard chatter outside the door. Then a key was inserted into one of the locks and he went to help Colette into her apartment so that she didn’t have to unlock the other two deadbolts.

  “Don’t be alarmed,” he said quickly.

  “Conor! You’re here?” Colette asked incredulously. The smile she had for him was wide and genuine.

  He didn’t have a choice but to receive her as she flew into his arms with a squeal. Looking over her shoulder, he saw her friend Miranda watching them, and he used her presence as an excuse to pull away.

  “Hi Miranda,” he said.

  “Conor,” she replied with a smile and a small nod.

  “I’m so excited you’re here!” Colette said, ignoring the niceties between Conor and Miranda. She held his face as she kissed his cheeks and lips, ensuring he couldn’t pull away again. “Why didn’t you say you were here when you texted?”

  She pulled off her lined trench coat and scarf and set it and the large carryall bag she had been shouldering on the sofa. “I love the surprise, but you could have warned me! I would have made myself pretty for you.”

 

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