by K. L. Kreig
“Me?” she shrieks. “You were just as bad, Lucy.”
“I beg to differ, Ethel.”
We giggle loudly at our childhood nicknames, mine being ever so obvious. We’re drawing the attention of the entire little café Kam chose for breakfast, but I don’t mind. I’ve never had a girlfriend like Kamryn and I didn’t realize how much I missed her.
Maybe moving to Chicago won’t be so bad after all. I just have to find a way to stay far away from Connelly.
“So, you’ll be working for Conn Colloway then?” Kam asks, eyeing me with keen interest.
Surprised, I look up from the scrambled eggs I’m pushing around on my plate. I’ve told Kam very little about my move. Just that Wynn Consulting had purchased the company I work for and that it required me to move to Chicago. “How did you know that?”
She shrugs her shoulders like it’s no big deal. “I know him.”
“You know who?”
“Connelly.”
See…this is exactly why I wish I had a better poker face and a different heritage than half-Irish, half-German, which makes for a mighty explosive combo, by the way. My temper is always balanced on the edge of a blade.
I have a lot of cuts.
“You know Connelly?” I ask carefully, trying for nonchalant. I know by the squeak in my voice, though, I just ended up in a virtual sidewalk face-plant instead.
Her mouth turns up. “Seeing green, are we?”
I open and close my mouth a few times, trying to gather my wits before responding, because she’s absolutely right. The shades I’m seeing are getting progressively darker with each second that ticks by.
I’ve never seen a picture of Connelly with Kamryn, not that I’ve scoured each and every one of them, mind you, but she fits his type perfectly. Blonde, beautiful, and buxom. And if I had, I have to admit, I’m not sure I could be sitting here now, knowing that one of my best friends has been intimate with the man I’ve never been able to forget, the man I’m foolishly and hopelessly still in love with after all this time.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I manage to push the lie that feels as heavy as a two-ton boulder off my tongue. I’m sweating from the effort.
“You know,” she starts, leaning back in her chair before crossing her long, lean legs, “I remember when I got a phone call from a very distraught Nora soon after she moved to Baltimore. Something about the guy she’d fallen in love with in Detroit was…what was it?” She taps her temple a few times. “Oh yes…a ‘two-timing, cheating, lying son-of-a-bitch fucker who I wish I’d never met.’ That sound about right?”
The other thing I forgot to mention about Kamryn is that she has a memory like a steel trap. If she says that’s what I said, then that’s what I said. Word for word.
Damn her.
“I don’t see what that has to do with Connelly Colloway.”
“It has to do with Conn because he was the two-timing, cheating, lying son-of-a-bitch fucker.”
Now I’m starting to panic for a whole host of different reasons.
“And how would you jump to that conclusion, Kam? I never told you his name.” It was hard to keep in touch in high school, so Kam and I only talked every few months. She knew there was a boy I was crushing on, but that was about it. And the last thing I wanted to do when I unloaded on her about my failed whirlwind romance was to remember Connelly’s name, let alone speak it.
Her perceptive smile pisses me off. “You never told me his whole name, but you did tell me his first name. Maybe you don’t remember during your little blubbering rant, but that’s a pretty unique name. And do you know how many Connellys I’ve met in my lifetime?”
I say nothing. Instead, I’m twisting my fingers together under the table, internally freaking the fuck out.
“Two. The other was a Scottish actor with horse breath and an Albert Einstein haircut. Don’t ask.” She puts up her hand just as I open my mouth.
“And do you know which one lived in Detroit about the same time as you and had a redheaded girlfriend in high school who’s considered ‘the one that got away’?” she continues.
My fingers fall lax. “The one that got away?” Why does that statement simultaneously excite me and piss me off?
“That’s the story I heard.”
“From who?”
“His twin brother’s wife, Alyse.”
“Asher is married?”
“Oh, yes. All the Colloway brothers have dropped like flies within the last year. Except Conn, that is. He’s still making the rounds, pining away after the long-lost redhead.” She shoots me a grin before taking a sip of her now-cooled coffee.
“Pining away?” I parrot incredulously. “Now, you’re just making shit up, Kamryn.”
“I’m not. I heard this redheaded beauty broke his heart.”
“Broke his heart? Are you serious? Well, someone apparently doesn’t have all the facts. I’m not sure how I could have broken his heart since I found him in bed with another girl not two weeks after he professed his undying love to me.”
Her mouth turns down slightly. I hate the sympathy I see staring back. “I don’t know, Nora. I’m just telling you what I heard.”
“Well, you heard wrong,” I say through gritted teeth, no longer stewing because she knows about my connection with Connelly but mad as hell he would lead people to believe I’m the one who broke his heart.
It pisses me off I am being blamed for our breakup. True, I may not have confronted Connelly about his cheating ways when I broke it off, but I was gutted from the inside out after what I’d witnessed. I couldn’t stomach listening to excuses and groveling, so I lied instead. Cut us off at the knees by telling him there was someone else. It was easier to let him think it was me than have him banging down my door begging forgiveness. And I knew he would. He was tenacious like that.
It was a horrible time in my life. I went into a deep depression. I unenrolled in college and spent months in bed reliving a torturous night I wasn’t even supposed to be a part of. I had come back to Detroit to surprise him for his birthday, but the surprise was on me when I found him with a naked woman sprawled all over his equally naked body. I have never felt more betrayed by anyone than I did in the moment I heard her moaning his name.
Once a player, always a player and everything I’ve been able to find on him throughout the years has only reinforced my initial perceptions of him, reminding me why I kept my distance then. Why I need to keep it now.
Then why do you feel so damn guilty, Nora?
“Oh, and in case you were wondering, I haven’t let him dip his wick in my pond.”
My eyes widen as they snap to hers. My pulse starts to race. “Haven’t let him? Did he ask?”
She doesn’t reply, but her face says it all. Of course, he’s asked. He’s probably fucked half the city of Chicago by now and propositioned the rest.
Pussy-hopping bastard.
I have to admit, a big part of me hurts to see him casually churn through the female population as if they’re easily expendable. It shouldn’t. It’s none of my business anymore. But I’m also not sure if it would hurt worse to see him happily married with a family of his own either, so I’m trying not care either way because caring makes me invested.
And getting invested in Connelly Colloway is something I cannot allow myself to do, especially after this little revelation. It just reinforces my resolve to stay aloof and as far away from him as possible.
Chapter 9
Conn
“How long will the integration take?”
“Everything is business as usual right now,” I answer truthfully. I haven’t given one thought to assimilating SER into Wynn yet beyond getting the handful of executives and Nora to Chicago. My only plans have revolved around how soon I can get Nora tied to my bed and sated. Once that happens, I can move on to the SER acquisition specifics. Besides, fully integrating two organizations can take months, years even, and those kinds of changes need to be strategically planned a
nd executed, not rushed.
“Will our duties change?”
“No, not in the near term, but that will inevitably happen in some departments. We’ll all need to work together when it does.” My gaze flicks to Nora, who’s sitting stone-faced; her eyes won’t meet mine. We’ve been having a discussion about the combination of our two organizations for almost two hours now and she’s yet to ask one question. “We’ll give plenty of notice before they do.”
“How will new recruiting cases be assigned, Mr. Colloway?” Jeanine, one of my top recruiters asks innocently enough. Jeanine is a good employee, but she is as bloodthirsty a woman as I’ve ever run across. I don’t miss her jealous glance in Nora’s direction, though. Neither does Nora.
I can see the marking of territories has already started. Nora remains passive, but gives an almost imperceptible shake of her head, like she expected this. Then her eyes finally meet mine for the first time since she walked through the door nearly two hours ago.
She’s waiting on my response as anxiously as Jeanine is. Thank Jesus I’m sitting down because I have to mentally talk my cock into deflating as I stare into her bewitching jade eyes.
Fuck. I want her so damn much, it’s hard to think straight. The second she walked into the crowded conference room at five minutes to one, dressed in a conservative, but curve-hugging peach dress, the ache I’ve felt in every part of my being intensified. It throbs now, almost out of control.
“We’ll make those decisions as they come up,” I reply to Jeanine, but my smoldering gaze never strays from Nora’s, my mind whirling with one wicked, sinful thing I plan to do to her after the other…once I get her underneath me. Which will be tonight if I have my way.
My answer hits with a resounding thud in front of Jeanine. Out of my peripheral, I see she does a piss-poor job of hiding her annoyance. If she’s unhappy now, her talons will really unleash when I announce that Nora will be assigned to one of our biggest and most important clients who called yesterday to let me know their CEO is retiring and they need to replace her. In the past, I would have assigned a case like this to Jeanine. I will be giving it to Nora instead.
And I’ll be personally overseeing it.
“Next question,” I say when Nora finally looks away.
The insecurities and anxieties continue to be lobbed for the next hour and a half. I continue to watch Nora, but she never makes eye contact with me again. My annoyance spikes. It’s getting harder and harder to tuck it down.
Your evasion is going to fucking stop, princess.
“Once again,” I start, anxious to end this so I can get a minute alone with Nora. “A warm welcome to our new SER family. I have no doubt our Wynn family will be nothing but gracious in welcoming you all. And to that end, you’re all invited for a celebration this evening. We’ll have cocktails and heavy hors d’oeuvres starting at six-thirty. Lydia will have the information on your way out. I expect to see you all there.”
Everyone rises and starts chattering, but the one person my attention is riveted on is Nora. I watch her effortlessly chat up Brad Harding, the SER COO. Their heads are close together and with the heated way his eyes graze over her body whenever she looks away, he is either intimately familiar with her or he wants to be.
Irrational hate burns through me, and my vision instantly fogs with violent, possessive jealousy.
She.
Belongs.
To.
Me.
I’ve done nothing for the past two weeks other than soul-searching, allowing myself to remember and, more importantly, deal with the deep hurt I’ve held inside for years at her bullshit breakup phone call. After seeing her again, after I’ve acknowledged that all I want is her, all I’ve ever wanted is her, and all I will ever want is her, I now want all of that resentment, hurt, and anger gone.
I’m tired of being buried, suffocating under its oppressive weight.
I want to forgive her. I want it all washed away by the pure love and raw ache I’ve always held for this woman. Eleven years, wasted. I’ve fought hard to forget her, all the while secretly pining away for her instead. I may not know the real reasons she left me, and I know that’s an inevitable conversation we’ll need to have. We both have confessions. We both need to clear the air so we can look to the future unencumbered, but I find I’m not even sure I care what the answers are anymore because I’m not letting her go.
Ever.
And I’m sure as hell not letting some other man move in on my turf right the fuck in front of me.
Oh, fuck no.
“Nora, can I speak to you for a minute?” I bark when I see her moving toward the door with his mitt at the small of her back. That possessive gesture is implied universal guy code for letting every other cock in the vicinity know “this woman’s with me, stay in your steel cage, fuckers,” and I swear by all that I own if Mr. Operations doesn’t remove that hand in the next two seconds I’ll break it the fuck off.
No one has the right to touch her but me.
Not now. Not ever again.
They both turn their heads. Harding must feel the sharp, cutting sting of the daggers I’m visually hurling; he drops his hand not a moment too soon.
Nora turns back to him, saying something I can’t hear before he gives me a tight smile, then leaves with everyone else. Once the last person has shut the door behind them, she shifts to me, irritation written all over her beautiful face. She’s not even trying to hide it.
Well, join the fucking club, sweetheart. Water’s a sweltering, unforgivable hundred twenty degrees right about now. I push the boil below the surface, keeping my outer pretense calm.
“You know, if you keep calling me after class, people will start thinking I’m the teacher’s pet.”
Her smart comment instantly grounds the electricity crackling the air, making me chuckle. I let an amused smile curl my lips. “You are.”
No sense in sugar coating it any longer.
I want her.
I need her.
Fuck…I will have her.
Her aloof façade slips for a moment and I glimpse a genuine smile. The first I’ve seen from her in so many years. Christ, it’s so heady it’s as if pure, undiluted oxygen was just pumped directly into my bloodstream.
“Brilliant counterproposal you made, by the way.”
She watches me contemplatively for a few heartbeats. She’s trying to figure out how to respond. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
I tamp down my smile. “It was a smart move, Nora. You should own it.”
An impish smile curls her glossy lips. “You seemed desperate,” she finally counters. That’s all I would get from her, but it was an admission nonetheless. And I was. Desperate. Desperate to get my hands on her.
“Desperation implies recklessness, and I assure you I am anything but reckless. I just know what I want, I know how to get it, and I make no apology for it.”
Cocking her head slightly, she asks, “Did you want something, Connelly, or did you just want to lord your power over me again?”
Did I mention how I’ve always loved that she uses my full name while most everyone else just calls me Conn? Every time those three syllables roll from her tongue, I start to swell.
A ghost of a smile crosses my face. “You know what I’ve always loved about you, Nora?” I ask, slowly closing the distance she’s intentionally tried putting between us.
I don’t miss the widening of her eyes at my specific choice of words. I could have used any number of adjectives besides loved. Liked. Admired. Respected. But I chose that one with intent. And it didn’t escape her perceptivity.
“My feistiness?” she replies a little nervously. Good, I want to keep her on her toes. Actually, I’d love to keep her on her back. Naked. Legs spread.
“Mmmm, yes.” I nod absently. “That always made me stone fucking hard.” I luxuriate in her sharp intake of breath at my bold statement. Oh, princess, I’m only getting started. “But that’s not what I was thinking just now.”
With every step I take toward her, she shifts uncomfortably. I have to give her credit, though. She doesn’t move an inch, holding her ground. I’ll bet those stubborn spikes are firmly rooted, even as bad as she’s itching to rip them from the floorboards and flee. But her mulishness is no match for me and my resolve. I’ll shred her righteous determination into so many goddamned splinters they’ll all be embedded in me. Lost to her forever because I’m not fucking giving them back. Then I will own her, just like she owns me, whether she realizes it or not.
I stop right in front of her, our toes almost touching.
Breathing deep, I take her perfumed scent into my lungs. Standing this close to her, it’s hard to control myself. My fists open and close at my sides, when all I want to do is brush her hair aside and nip the graceful length of her neck before sinking my teeth into the crook, marking her. I want to dig my fingers into her hips and yank her roughly into me so she can feel for herself how hard she makes me.
Fuck it, I decide. Self-restraint is overrated.
Reaching up, I frame her cheek and run my thumb over the plush lower lip she’s painted with berry-red gloss, smearing the stickiness on my finger.
“Stop,” she breathes unconvincingly. Her body tenses, but she makes no move to pull out of my grip. In fact, I think I may even feel her lean into it. Her words and her actions are a veritable contradiction.
I drop my voice to just above a whisper, ignoring her weak request. “What I loved is how your expressive eyes always told the truth even when your lying mouth didn’t. And that hasn’t changed. One. Bit.”
My gaze drops to her lips. I watch her little pink tongue dart out to wet them. I groan softly, unable to hold it in.
“Connelly, I work for you now. This is wro—”
“And do you know what I see floating in them now, princess?” I continue, steamrolling right over her pathetic protest. Snaking my free hand around her waist, I tug her into me, pressing her pelvis into my throbbing erection. I just about come on the spot when her eyes fall shut and my name escapes her lips on a low exhale. I deserve some fucking award for not ripping off her clothes right now and pounding into her with the raw primal lust that’s screaming “claim mark claim.”