But…too late.
As soon as she finished cutting Riley down, she focused her attention on Con. “What are you going to do if she writes a story anyway? There are other people who could be hurt besides you.”
“She won’t.” Con said it without thinking, without hesitation.
“How do you know?”
“Because that’s not…” He swore and shoved his hair back, fumbling for a way to explain. “Look, I’ve been reading up on the stuff she writes, okay? She advocates for victims. We haven’t done shit to victimize anybody and we aren’t victims…”
The silence that fell over the room then was so ugly and sharp, it left Con feeling gutted.
“Shit.” He closed his eyes. “She won’t. Okay? She never even asked about him.”
“But you can’t know that.”
“No. I guess I can’t.”
He moved out from behind the bar and headed toward the stairs. “Call somebody in to cover for me this afternoon. For a few hours at least. I’m going out there to talk to her. I’ve got to make sure this isn’t about Shame.”
Chapter Nine
The knock echoed hollowly through the house.
At least it seemed that way to Con’s ears.
He looked through the small window on the side of the door and the sight that greeted him had him clenching his jaw.
“You weren’t kidding, were you?”
He pounded on the door even harder and told himself it was all good. She’d answer.
If she doesn’t…
He cut off the thought and knocked a third time. She’d fucking answer or he’d just stay there until she came to the door. She’d have to eventually. Her car was in the driveway and those packing boxes weren’t going to load themselves.
He was about to knock a fourth time when the door was yanked open.
“For crying out— Oh, hi, Con.” Shawntelle blinked at him, looking a little irritated. She had dust all over her and a smudge on her right cheek. A bandanna covered her crazy mess of curls and he wanted to drag it off and push her back against the wall, then strip her naked and fuck her hard.
“What did you do?” he demanded instead. “Start packing the minute I climbed out of your bed?”
She glared at him. “I’ve been packing for the past week. You just didn’t see the boxes because I had them in the spare bedroom. I brought them out because the truck is coming tomorrow.”
“You sure as hell are ready to go, huh? This one-horse town getting the better of you?”
She curled her lip. “Sweetheart, I live in a town that has one stoplight. You don’t even know the meaning of one-horse town.” She waved a hand out at the street. “This isn’t exactly Mayberry, you know.”
He took a step toward her.
She backed up.
He took another step.
She echoed her previous action.
They repeated that dance until he was inside the house, then he shut the door.
He didn’t know who reached for the other first, but the echo of the door slamming was still ringing through the house when his mouth crushed hers.
She was hot, her skin damp with the sweat of her exertions, and he might have taken the time to lick it away if he hadn’t been so desperate. As it was, his fingers fumbled with the clingy yoga pants and he ended up yanking them away when they tangled around her ankles.
He also dropped his wallet when he pulled out the condom he’d put in there on his way over.
Yeah, sure. He’d just come over to talk.
He was such a fucking moron.
“Hurry,” she demanded as he knelt to scoop it up.
That had been precisely his plan, but when he looked at her, the neat curls at the juncture of her thighs caught his eyes and he groaned, leaning inward to nuzzle her.
She gasped. “Connor…”
“Shawntelle.”
He flicked his tongue against her clitoris and she shuddered, one hard, body-racking shake that filled him with a heady sense of wonder and satisfaction, something he’d never experienced before.
He knew how to make women want him, knew how to please them, how to tease them.
It was nothing new.
So why did this feel new?
Her hands buried in his hair and she urged him closer.
But he held back, reaching up to grasp her wrists and tug them away. “This isn’t the smartest thing, sugar. You know that.”
“Is there a reason why you shouldn’t?” she demanded.
“Logically? Only a couple of hundred.” The taste of her lingered, beckoning him.
“Something tells me you wouldn’t be doing what you do—or did—if there was really a reason.” Shawntelle watched him with a challenge in her eyes. “You love the ladies too much. Am I right?”
She was.
But still, logic tried to reason with him.
He told logic to go get fucked and settled more firmly in front of her—on his knees, exactly where he’d wanted to be, from just about the first minute he’d seen her.
“I’m going to eat you up, Shawntelle,” he said softly, dropping the condom to the floor and sliding his hands up the backs of her legs, higher and higher, until he could cup her ass. “I’m going to lick you and taste you and feel you come against my mouth.”
A shaky sigh escaped her while a blush pinked her lips.
“How about you do it and stop talking about it?”
“Because talking about it is making your nipples even harder. They’re so hard now, they’re stabbing right through your bra and shirt. Take your shirt off, baby. Then I’ll taste you.”
His cock pounded, pulsed in time with his heart and when she reached for the hem of her T-shirt, he thought the damn piece of meat in his chest might just explode.
When she made a show of stripping away her top, he decided there was no might about it. He was going to have a fucking heart attack.
“You want to be a tease?” He stared at her.
“You wanted me to take it off.” A sigh escaped her.
“I wanted it off. I didn’t want you to show me your stripper skills.”
Shawntelle laughed softly. “If you’ve got a pole handy, I can show you a few moves.”
He almost told her he had a damn pole in his pants, but thought she might take it as bragging.
Instead, he decided to return the favor and tease her every bit as much as she’d teased him.
Sliding one hand between her thighs, he nudged them farther apart and circled the lips of her cunt with one fingertip. She was already wet, the flesh hot to his touch. Gathering up that heat, he brought it to his lips. “Now your bra.”
“Con!”
“I said I’d taste you. I didn’t say how. And I want you naked before I eat this pussy up. So…get naked.”
Her breathing caught and hitched in her chest and Con had an uninhibited view, because she had popped open the front clasp of her bra before he’d even finished speaking.
“Good girl,” he said softly.
“Now…” The bra hung open from her shoulders, and her breasts swung free. She placed her hands at her sides, palms flat against the door. “Put your mouth on me.”
“Happy to.” And then he did just that, leaning in and taking her pussy as he’d take her mouth, with a deep, drugging kiss. He slid his tongue inside, then out, rimming the lips before plunging deep.
He had her moaning in seconds.
He could have had her coming in a minute, as ready as she was.
But just when he felt it coming on, he backed off and nuzzled her clitoris, let her ease down.
“Con!”
“Not so fast,” he said, petting her slick flesh and watching her from under his lashes. “I want you burning…begging…so ready for me you can’t stand it.”
“That happened about a month ago, you bastard.”
He laughed softly. “No. It didn’t. You just think it did.”
He proceeded to show her how wrong she was.
&
nbsp; Only when her legs were shaking and her voice raspy and weak did he grab the condom.
As she stared down at him, he unzipped his jeans, still kneeling in front of her.
Her eyes moved to his cock and he felt that look like a physical touch.
“I can feel you looking at me.” He wrapped his hand around his prick and stroked up, then down. “You might as well be doing this. That’s how it feels.”
“If you hadn’t been driving me insane, I might just be doing that.” Her chest heaved. “But now I need you inside me or I just might die.”
“We can’t have that.”
Still, he took his time as he unrolled the condom and settled it into place. He took his time as he uncurled his legs, rising to his full height. He took his time as he moved in closer, settling between her thighs.
But his slow, lazy movement faded the moment he caught her hips and boosted her up.
Slamming his mouth down on hers, he gripped her behind the knees, hooking her legs over his elbows and thrust deep, letting her weight bear her down on his cock.
“You were going to just disappear, weren’t you?” he demanded.
“Con…”
“Weren’t you?”
Her voice broke when she finally answered. “It was easier. Please!”
Easier.
Shit.
He shoved it out of his mind, or he tried to. But anger and frustration haunted him and when he kissed her, he knew she could taste all of that in his kiss.
His need was savage and he let it all go as he rode her hard.
Her nails raked his shoulders, sending exquisite little pains up to his neck, then down his spine. As those sensations hit his balls, he could feel himself falling close to a line he’d never crossed—losing control.
No.
Fisting a hand in her hair, he yanked her head back.
She cried out. Smothering the sound with his mouth, he poured himself into that kiss.
And she gave it all back, along with a piece of herself.
Her cunt clamped down around him as she moved closer and closer to orgasm—so tight he had to fight to bury his dick in her and it was so fucking perfect, he couldn’t stand it.
Tearing away from her, he stepped back from the door.
“Con!”
“Bend over,” he ordered. Not giving her a chance to obey, he spun her around and urged her to her hands and knees.
She moaned as he drove deep, thrusting past the tight squeeze of her internal muscles.
At the same time, he licked his left thumb and pressed it against her anus.
Shawntelle squeaked and pulled away.
“Be still.”
She froze and he pushed harder, breaching the ring of muscle as his cock filled her pussy again.
A harsh groan escaped her and she moved back on him as he thrust deep.
Aaain…again…again…
On the fourth stroke, she cried out and tightened around him even more. As she started to come, he used his weight to crush her to the floor. Then, sinking his teeth into her shoulder, he gave up even the semblance of control and fucked her, chasing the orgasm he’d been fighting off.
Just as his cock jerked and he began to come, Shawntelle cried out and climaxed a second time.
He closed his eyes and buried his face against her back, completely lost in her.
Chapter Ten
Water beat down on him.
His hands braced against the wall, Con tried to block out everything but the hot water and the sound of it as it pounded down on him in the small cubicle of Shawntelle’s spare bathroom.
She’d offered to let him join her.
He’d refused.
He might have lied about his reasons for coming here—or at least not been entirely honest with himself—but he sure as hell wasn’t going get completely distracted by her beautiful tits and that amazing ass.
He needed to stay focused and he couldn’t do that if he saw her wet and naked.
She was leaving.
Really leaving, and not in a month or a few weeks.
But in a day or two.
Just like that.
Had she even been planning to call? Come by and tell him?
And damn it, that wasn’t even what he was supposed to be focusing on.
He shoved away from the wall and focused on showering, scrubbing at his hair and body with a ferocious intensity that should have rubbed skin raw and ripped out hair. When he finished, he only did a perfunctory rub-off with the towel before grabbing his clothes and dragging them on. His hair was dripping water down his face and neck but he ignored it as he strode out of the bathroom, searching for Shawntelle.
They came face to face in the middle of the hallway.
She had a tray, laden with oversized sandwiches, a bowl of chips and two glasses of iced tea. “I haven’t had lunch,” she said, looking at him hesitantly.
When she nodded toward the table, which was surrounded by boxes, he shrugged. He had no desire to eat, but he could force down the food. Maybe it would give him time to get his head together.
He made it halfway through his sandwich before his throat decided it’d had enough and closed up on him. Grabbing his tea, he tossed it back, only to sputter and choke.
“What is this shit?”
“It’s tea,” Shawntelle replied, eying him narrowly.
“Tea has sugar in it.”
“No, sweet tea has sugar in it.”
He glared at the offending beverage before getting up and moving into the kitchen to dump it out.
“I do have sugar.”
“It doesn’t taste the same unless you add the sugar in before you add ice. Water is fine.”
“I forget how you southerners are about your sweet tea.”
“It’s only worth drinking if it’s sweet,” he said, shrugging. He drained half the glass of water before turning to face her. “I need to talk to you about something. But first…were you even going to say good-bye?”
She flashed him a smile. “Of course, I…” Then, halfway through her response, she stopped, sighing. “No. No, I wasn’t. I told myself I’d email or text you, but I don’t know if I would have. I try not to get involved with people, Con. It’s just…”
“Easier?” He put the glass down hard, stalking toward her. “Cleaner? Let me tell you, we’re already pretty damn involved. I’ve been buried so deep inside you, I’ve lost track of where I end and you begin, and I fucking loved it.”
“You’ve probably felt the same way about two dozen other women.” She shrugged.
“No. I haven’t.”
She scoffed and he caught her chin, urging her face back to his. “I haven’t.”
“So you want me to believe it was just a job for you, when you were fucking women for money.”
“No. Hell, no.” Because she’d hurt him, he wasn’t above giving a jab back and he gave her an arrogant smile. “I was damn good at it, and if it wasn’t for…circumstances, I’d probably still be doing it. I liked it. But…” He dipped his head and pressed his mouth to her ear. “Liked isn’t quite what I’d describe what I feel when I’m inside you. I don’t even know if the word love would be enough. When I feel you clamping down around me, when your nails bite into my skin…it blows my damn mind, Shawntelle.”
She shuddered against him and turned her face toward his.
But he backed away.
He wasn’t going to go down that road right now.
“You felt something, too. Don’t lie about it.”
A harsh breath escaped her before she answered, “What makes you think I’d bother?”
“The fact that you were running away?”
“Oh, please.” She smoothed her hair back from her face. “Just because I was leaving doesn’t mean I was running away. My life isn’t here, Con. It’s time I went back to it. There’s no reason for me to be here.”
Her eyes skittered away then and if he wasn’t mistaken, a faint flush lit her high cheekbones.
“It’s the leaving without a word that makes it running, Shawntelle.” He leaned in, bracketing her body on either side with his arms so she couldn’t duck away. “You already admitted you didn’t plan to call. So…what gives?”
She didn’t answer.
“Okay. Fine.” He waited one more moment and then turned away. “I guess I was wrong. I thought there was something here, but…okay. Never mind.”
Pacing a few feet away, he stopped at the window, staring out over a pretty, landscaped backyard, heavy on the roses and lilacs. His mother had adored roses. “I guess I’ll get to the other reason I came by.”
Turning to face her, he dragged in a breath.
But just as he was about to push the words out, her phone rang—a discordant, jangling sound.
She jolted, her face going ashen as her eyes jumped from his face to the phone.
“I…uh…I’m sorry. I have to answer that. Family. My…” She paused, then blurted out. “It’s my mom. She’s not well.”
Frowning, he watched as she grabbed it, hurrying out of the room.
He should have just stayed where he was, especially after he heard a door close quietly somewhere down the hall.
He should have. He knew it.
But he couldn’t, because he’d seen a flicker of guilt in her eyes and he couldn’t, for the life of him, think of any damn reason why she’d feel guilt over her mother.
Moving quietly, he followed the path she’d taken, keeping his back to the wall, his feet soundless on the carpet.
He was a nosy son of a bitch, after all. He knew how to sneak around.
“—can’t talk now. No, I don’t. Listen, Kyle, it’s just not a good time. I don’t know. I…later, okay? I’ll meet you. Don’t you tell me what to do. Three-thirty. That’s it. No sooner.”
Con backed away, moving into the main area of the house.
His mind was spinning and he wasn’t so certain he liked anything it was hinting at.
When she came in a few moments later, he was back where he had been, staring outside, and his thoughts were no more focused than they had been.
“Hey. Sorry about that.” Her voice sounded subdued.
Turning, he met her eyes. Color had returned to her cheeks, but there was still a light missing. Something…a spark.
F*ck Club: Con Page 7