by Susan Stoker
“Nope, but we made progress. We found an ex-girlfriend who was happy to tell us about some of his past exploits. We can’t nail him for those, but it does show a pattern. We’re going to stake out the field where we found the deer and see if we can’t catch him in the act.”
“Is he stupid enough to go back to the same place?” Erin asked, relaxing more now that they were talking.
“Probably. You have to realize hunters have their favorite spots, just as fishermen have their favorite lakes to fish in. They believe they can’t be caught and that there’s no harm in killing one or two deer illegally. After all, there’s lots more where those came from.”
“There aren’t?”
“That’s not the point,” Conor said, and Erin could tell he was passionate about the subject. “There are hunting seasons for a reason. Back in the day there were no rules about fishing in the Bering Sea or up in Canadian waters. Big companies caught as many crab and fish as they could. No one thought anything about it. Slowly but surely, the animals became harder and harder to find, simply because they’d been fished to within an inch of their lives. Luckily, rules were made and the crab population is recovering. It’s the same with hunting. If there weren’t any rules, then the animals would disappear. Don’t get me wrong, hunting is a good thing. I firmly believe it’s in the animals’ best interests. It culls the herds and makes it so they aren’t overpopulated.”
“I understand. Some people might say that you’re spending too much time trying to catch one guy who’s breaking the laws, but if they aren’t upheld, then everyone would think it’s okay to kill whatever they want, whenever they want, right?” Erin asked.
Conor smiled at her. “Exactly. And it pisses me off that someone would so callously kill an animal for sport. Most hunters are very good about using the meat from the animals they kill. They aren’t just out there shooting for the fun of it. They’re doing it to bring the meat home to their families. Killing a deer and leaving it to rot just isn’t cool.”
“Do you hunt?” Erin asked, eager to find out more about Conor.
“Yup. I usually try to get out the first day or two of deer season. I get my allotted deer, then I can concentrate on policing the other hunters for the rest of the season.”
“Do you find a lot of violations?”
Conor shrugged. “A fair amount, but a lot of what we do is education. We’re not out there handing out tickets left and right. I’ve gotten pretty good at cutting through the bullshit people try to feed me. I can tell if they made an honest mistake, or if they know exactly what they’re doing and are purposely trying to be deceptive.”
Erin relaxed even farther into Conor, and he settled more comfortably on her couch. They talked for a couple of hours about his job, hers, and what races were coming up that they were participating in.
Erin wanted to tell Conor about her past. But she couldn’t find the right words. When he talked about what time he’d pick her up next week to go to his parents’ house, she almost did, but then he started talking about his nieces and how cute they were.
Then when he mentioned different ways to cook squirrel, deer, and wild boar, she opened her mouth to tell him that she wasn’t a good cook, and why, but chickened out.
“You are so beautiful,” Conor said in a lull in the conversation. The only light in the room was coming from a lamp on one of the tables next to the couch. They’d shifted until they were both lying on the cushions, Erin’s back to the couch and partly draped over Conor’s body. He had one arm around her and the other was playing with her hair.
Erin knew she was blushing and simply smiled at him.
Without another word, he leaned close and kissed her. The next thing she knew, she was on her back and Conor’s hand was resting at her belly, playing with the hem of her shirt. He picked up his head and looked down at her. “May I?”
Swallowing hard, Erin nodded.
Slowly, as if he knew she was on the verge of leaping off the couch like a scared teenager, his fingers eased under the garment and up to her breasts. He didn’t rip off her shirt or take his eyes from hers.
“I’ve dreamed of touching you from the first time I saw you…as you know, because I told you on our way to Big Bend.” His fingers reached her right breast and he skated them over the cotton material of her bra. His touch was light, but Erin felt her nipples peak with excitement at even that soft touch.
“You’re so responsive. I want you to know, I’m not going to hurt you. We’ll take things as slow as you need them to be.”
Erin couldn’t swallow. Her mouth was as dry as the Sahara Desert.
“Does this feel good?”
She nodded. It did. He’d wrapped his hand around her bra-clad breast and was kneading her flesh gently.
He looked down for the first time, and Erin saw his pupils dilate with lust. Without asking permission this time, his head dipped and he nuzzled her erect nipple through her shirt.
“Conor,” Erin croaked. One of her hands came up to his head and pressed against the back of it, urging him on.
As if that was what he’d been waiting for, Conor pushed the cup of her bra up and over her breast. At the first touch of his fingers rolling her sensitive nipple, her back arched and she groaned.
His hand immediately went to the other side, pushing the bra off that breast as well. As his fingers went to work on that nipple, his mouth closed around her shirt—and the tight bud on the other side.
“Oh my God, Conor!” Erin exclaimed. She hadn’t ever felt anything so amazing in all her life. It almost scared her. Just as she was ready to push him away because the feelings were too intense, Conor’s head lifted and he looked at her.
“Beautiful.” His fingers didn’t stop their movement, teasing and plucking at her erect nipples. “Even without seeing you, I know you’re beautiful.”
He couldn’t have said anything more perfect.
“I know I’m pushing it, but I want to see you come for me. Will you touch yourself while I play here?”
His thumb flicked over her nipple as he spoke, sending sparks between her legs. Erin was embarrassed, but she nodded anyway. She wanted this. Wanted him.
Conor used his free hand to grab one of hers, and he kissed her palm. Then he pressed it flat against her stomach and, keeping his hand over hers, pushed it down to the fastening of her pants. She awkwardly undid the tie even as Conor lowered his head and began to suck on her nipple through the fabric of her shirt once again.
Without urging this time, Erin moved her fingers through the opening of her pants and under her cotton panties. She touched her clit with her index finger and jerked in response to how sensitive she felt.
Conor’s hand didn’t follow hers under her panties, but he did place it over her soaked folds between her legs. She wasn’t sure if he could tell how wet she was through the layers, but his next words cleared that up.
“You’re so wet. God, Erin. You feel amazing. Go on, make yourself feel good.” Then his head dropped, and she knew he’d been going easy on her before now. Because now he wasn’t messing around. His mouth opened wide and he took in as much of her breast as he could. He plumped up her mound with his hand under her shirt and…feasted.
Erin threw her head back and lost herself in the feelings coursing through her body. She usually took quite a while to orgasm, but she knew without a doubt that wouldn’t be the case at the moment. She was halfway there before she’d even touched herself.
Conor’s mouth and hand at her chest kept her on the edge, and her own finger flicking over her clit pushed her right to the point of no return.
“Conor!” she cried, not knowing what she needed.
But he did. He pressed the heel of his hand hard against her pussy lips and bit down on her nipple through her shirt. The combination did the trick. She jerked against him and came. When she would’ve moved her fingers away from her clit, he grabbed her wrist and held her in place. He used his strength to move her hand up and down, prolonging the i
ntense feelings coursing through her.
It could’ve been an hour or thirty seconds. Erin wasn’t sure, but when she opened her eyes, Conor was smiling down at her. His hand was lying motionless over her right breast and he still held her wrist in his hand. Seeing she was back with him, he pulled on her hand and she winced as her finger rolled over her clit one more time as he removed it from her pants.
Not dropping his eyes from hers, he pulled her hand up to his face and only then did he look away from her. He eyed her glistening finger as if it was a lollipop, and before she could protest, he’d taken her finger deep into his mouth.
They both groaned at the same time.
Erin wanted to pull away, but the feeling of his tongue wrapping around her finger and licking every drop of her juices off the digit was erotic as hell, and she couldn’t seem to move.
Without a word, Conor pulled her finger from his mouth with a pop and laid it on her stomach once more. He covered her hand with his and took a deep breath.
Now that Erin wasn’t lost in the feelings he’d provoked, she realized that he was rock hard against her hip. She shifted, feeling awkward and unsure about what she was supposed to do.
“Can I?” she asked, trying to move her hand to the front of his pants.
Conor stopped her by putting pressure on her hand, keeping it where it was.
“I’m good,” he told her softly.
“But you didn’t…you’re still hard,” she protested.
“I am,” he agreed easily, his body completely relaxed next to hers.
“Don’t you want me to?”
He lifted his head at that. “I want you, Erin. Make no mistake. But this isn’t a tit for tat kind of thing. I know you’re new to this, and I’m not going to rush you. I got just as much pleasure from watching you come, feeling you against me and tasting you, as I would from having an orgasm myself.”
Erin’s eyebrow went up at that. “Really?”
“Okay,” he conceded. “Maybe not exactly the same amount of pleasure, but close. That was a gift, bright eyes. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Erin wasn’t sure what else she was supposed to say to that. She yawned huge and blushed when she saw Conor smirking down at her.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Sleep.”
“It’s late.”
“I know. I’ll show myself out in a bit.”
Erin snuggled against Conor’s chest. He moved his hand out from under her shirt and grasped her hip. He turned her until they were chest to chest. She tucked her head under his chin. “Wake me up when you go,” she ordered sleepily.
“I will.”
Erin’s eyes were closed, but she wanted to tell him one more thing before she was out. “Conor?”
“Yeah, bright eyes?”
“There’s stuff I need to tell you about me. But I’m afraid you’ll not like me anymore when I do.”
“I’m going to like you no matter what you tell me.”
“Promise?”
“Promise. Now shhhh. Sleep.”
“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Erin mumbled. She was asleep before she heard his response.
But later, after he’d kissed her on the forehead and let her know he was leaving, she dragged herself to her bed and snuggled under the covers, remembering how amazing the night had been. He’d had his hands on her and she hadn’t freaked out.
Her phone vibrated with a text and she reached out a hand to grab it. The words there made her smile in relief and excitement.
Conor: You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me too. Talk to you later. Sleep well.
9
Erin fidgeted in the seat next to Conor. They were on their way to his parents’ house and she so wasn’t ready. She was well aware that he thought she was mostly uneasy about meeting his family, but that wasn’t it, at least not all of it.
The last time she’d actually sat down at a formal meal was…she couldn’t remember when. At home, she grabbed something and ate it standing up. If she had something at The Sloppy Cow, it was the same—she ate it standing and on the go. Functions at the university were typically informal and only had finger foods. It was easy enough to carry around a small plate with one hors d’oeuvre on it. People assumed that she’d already eaten and didn’t give her grief about trying this or that.
But sitting at a table with Conor’s family was a whole different thing. She couldn’t exactly pretend to eat, but she knew if she forced herself to consume too much, she’d regret it. Her stomach had stretched out since her surgery and she could eat more than the couple of bites she used to be able to, but she absolutely couldn’t gorge herself. And Erin was deathly afraid that she’d have to eat way more than she was used to, just to be polite.
It was stupid. She should’ve just told Conor what was bothering her, but it was way too late now.
He pulled his truck into a well-kept neighborhood and Erin tried not to hyperventilate. She’d had a nightmare last night about Conor’s mom putting a plate in front of her when they were all seated around a huge oval table that was piled high with food. So much so it was falling off the sides.
The older woman had smiled huge in the dream and told her to “eat up.” Then she’d added, “No one leaves the table until their plate is empty.” Erin had woken up in a cold sweat and hadn’t been able to fall back to sleep for the rest of the night. It wasn’t that she thought Conor’s family would be mean, but food was such a hot button for her.
It wasn’t until Conor had parked and taken her hand in his that she realized she was shaking.
“Hey…look at me, Erin.”
She turned her eyes to his.
“It’s going to be fine. I would never bring you into a situation that would cause you harm. Got it?”
She nodded. She knew he wouldn’t, but he didn’t know about her issues simply because she hadn’t told him.
He beamed and leaned over and kissed her on the lips. “Come on, let’s get this over with. Once you see how great they are, you’ll relax.”
Conor gave her face one last caress with his hand, then turned and climbed out. Erin followed suit on her side and reached into the back and grabbed two of the gift bags Conor had brought with him.
She met him at the front of his truck and he immediately snagged her hand and held it tightly in his as they walked up to the front door.
It opened before they got there, and Erin stepped back in alarm as a woman flew out of the house at Conor.
He laughed and caught her while they hugged as if they hadn’t seen each other in months.
“Chill, Mary,” Conor ordered. “You’re gonna scare my girlfriend.”
At that, the woman, who Erin knew to be the middle sister, turned to her. “It’s so good to meet you!” she exclaimed, and engulfed Erin in a huge hug.
Startled, Erin couldn’t move, but she did manage to mumble, “It’s good to meet you too,” before the other woman let go. Mary grabbed the gift bags out of Erin’s hand and shoved them at her brother. “Come on, the others are dying to meet you. We can’t wait to get to know everything about you. I have no idea what you see in my brother, but I won’t hold that against you.” She beamed and started dragging Erin inside the house.
“Jesus, Mary,” Conor grumbled. “You gonna let her breathe before you start trying to get all the juicy details about our relationship out of her?”
Mary stopped in her tracks just inside the front door of the house. “Are you still here? Why don’t you go help Dad with the grill?”
“The grill?” Conor asked. “Aren’t we having lasagna?”
“Of course. But it’s been so mild, Dad decided that we needed some brats as well.”
Erin shuddered. More food. Figured.
“I’m not leaving Erin with you guys until she’s at least met everyone,” Conor proclaimed, putting his hand on the small of Erin’s back as they entered the house.
Erin liked that. She turned her hea
d and mouthed, “Thank you,” to him as Mary continued to tow her toward what sounded like a huge group of people.
Conor simply smiled at her.
That gave her the courage to carry on. She could do this. These were Conor’s people. His family. He was amazing, and so his family had to be also, Erin reasoned.
Mary pulled her through a set of double pocket doors and stopped. “Hey, everyone. Conor and Erin are finally here!”
Erin knew the smile on her face was forced, but she couldn’t help it. Conor took her hand from his sister and led her from one person to another, introducing his family to her.
“This is my youngest sister, Karen, and her boyfriend, George Parks. You met Mary at the door, this is her husband, Alfred Wells. And their kids, Honey and Sarah.” Conor kept moving after she shook each person’s hand. “And this is my mom and dad, Pauline and John.”
Erin licked her dry lips and said, “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Oh, sweetie, it’s so great to meet you. We were afraid Conor would never find a girlfriend.”
“For God’s sake, Mom. Stop it.”
John stepped forward and shook her hand heartily. “Merry Christmas, Erin. We’re thrilled you could join us. Especially since you don’t have close family to spend this wonderful holiday with. Please consider our house, your house.” And with that, he turned to his wife, kissed her on the cheek and mumbled, “Gotta get back to the grill.” Then he smiled at her, ran his hand over his youngest granddaughter’s head, and moved toward a sliding glass door.
After he’d left the room, everyone started talking at once. Erin blinked. She watched as Conor’s mom and Mary headed through a door she could tell led to a kitchen. The two kids tugged on Karen’s hands and brought her back to the couch. One clicked on a remote and a movie with a talking dog started up on the television.
Alfred and George wandered out the door to help Mr. Paxton at the grill.