Destination Connelly (The Colloway Brothers Book 4)

by K. L. Kreig

  I look away. Swallow awkwardly. It doesn’t matter what he did. Nothing I say can justify my actions. “I had so many excuses. I was always able to rationalize my decision.”

  “Like my Macy’s-worthy revolving door?” he asks a little bitterly, eyes swinging my way.

  My smile is fleeting. “Partly, yes.” I can’t deny the truth, but I can’t let him believe that’s the main cause either. “But the biggest reason was simply that I was afraid to tell you. That bad decision in the beginning kind of snowballed. The more time that passed the harder it became to face. It’s like this lie you hold on to with everything in you and the tighter you hang on, the more your grip becomes frozen and the harder it is to just speak the truth, to admit you were wrong. That was me. I was frozen with fear. I kept telling myself I was doing the right thing, even though deep down I knew I wasn’t. There are so many things I’d do differently if I could.” I pause briefly before adding, “but I can’t.”

  Silence encases us, sitting heavy. Connelly stares at the floor, his head hung low. He runs his fingers through his hair several times until the unruly locks stand on end. I wonder if our conversation is over. If the silence is my cue to go. After ages of no noise but our soft breathing and whispering regrets, I decide it is, so I make to stand when his hand shoots out and curls around my wrist.

  Jaw locked tight, he slides from the couch to kneel in front of me, taking my face between his hands. “Do you forgive me, Nora?”

  I start shaking my head, confused. “What do I have to forgive?”

  “We both fucked up. Yours was not trusting me enough, but I didn’t trust in us enough, either. You were right back in Cincinnati when you said I had a bruised high school ego. I should have gone after you. Fought for you. Fought for us. Hell, I should have never attended that party and been on a plane to Baltimore instead of sulking like a spoiled brat. I need to know if you forgive me, too.”

  “I did a long time ago,” I whisper unevenly.

  His tongue snakes out to catch a lone drip of water tracking down my face before bringing his soft lips to meet mine. Salt and sorrow linger long after he pulls away.

  “I’m tired of the baggage, princess. It’s too fucking heavy to carry anymore. I need to let it go.”

  I nod in agreement, not really understanding where this is going or what he’s saying.

  “Do you still love me, Nora?” His eyes bounce back and forth between mine, anxious.

  I bring my hands to his face, cupping his scruff-covered jaw. “I’m not capable of loving anyone else, Connelly.”

  His steely gaze bores into mine, reaching into that plane that has only ever been reserved for him. “Neither am I. I’ll do whatever you need. Be whatever you need. Say whatever you want to hear, but I want to be part of your lives, Nora. No matter what. Yours and Hazel’s.”

  I hate the hope building inside. “Part of our lives how?” Hazel’s, I understand. Me, however? That’s still not clear.

  “Selfishly, I want it all. But if that’s not possible, I guess in any way you’ll let me.”

  My head is buzzing. When I stumbled behind him to his apartment, I never fathomed he’d be telling me he wants a life with me. With us. We have this insane burning chemistry, yes, but could there be more after all we’ve been through?

  “How can you possibly forgive me?” I ask on a choked breath.

  In one swift move he’s sitting in the chair I was just occupying and I’m straddling his semistiff erection. “How can I not? I’ve been hollow inside without you. We’ve missed so much, Nora. I can’t bear the thought of missing another second without the two girls I love most by my side.”

  Relief swims inside me. I’m hardly able to believe what I’m hearing. I don’t know if I’ll wake up tomorrow and find this has all been a dream. But if it is, I plan to live fully with my head in the clouds of delusion before reality rips me violently to her bosom once again.

  “I love you.” My voice is nothing but a hoarse wisp of air.

  “I love you, princess. So much.” His eyes turn positively molten and his voice drops two octaves. “I need to be buried deep inside you, Nora. So fucking deep you feel like you’ve finally come home.”

  I already am home.

  As soon as he speaks that last word our lips are fused together in a fit of unrestrained passion. We fumble with our shirts, tearing them off in our madness. I hear buttons ping against the end table. My bra goes flying. His hands knead my breasts. His fingers pluck at my nipples. Then he’s dipping his head and I’m crying out when he bites one hard before sucking even harder.

  “Fuck yes, you taste so good,” he croons as he makes his way to the other one. My fingers dig in his hair and I let my head fall back as he feasts, devours, and drives me to the edge of madness.

  I’m begging him to ease the ache deep in my center when I hear his husky voice say, “Stand up.”

  I scramble to my feet, ready to surrender to his every whim.

  “Peel those jeans down those sexy legs, Nora. And make it fast.” He’s making quick work of his own denims, popping the button and loosening the metal teeth enough so he can slip his hand inside. He palms his cock and brings it out to play, smiling ever so slightly.

  I want to watch him pleasure himself, but I want him to fuck me more than I want to see his come ribbon his stomach. In seconds, my pants and soaked lace are kicked to the side along with my shoes. I’m now completely bare, waiting. Hardly able to breathe.

  “I want that pussy on my mouth,” he tells me darkly, making no move to stand or kneel or slide to the floor beneath me. So I crawl onto his lap, hold on to his shoulders, and run the juices of my arousal up and down his dick, never taking my eyes off his. His scratchy jeans abrade my inner thighs, which makes it all the more arousing.

  Watching Connelly turn into raw fluid energy beneath my touch is heady and mind-blowing. I feel powerful for a single second until he grumbles, “Enough,” and all the power shifts back to him.

  Drawing me up his body, he drags his hot tongue down my trembling stomach until my knees are perched on the top of the chair on either side of his head. It’s ridiculously hedonistic and sexy to have my splayed pussy just inches from his mouth. Thank God I waxed last week.

  When Connelly gazes up the line of my body my sex clenches. Hard. And when that wicked smile turns his mouth up I gush so much I feel a trickle of need now smearing the insides of my thighs. “I’m going to eat you until your voice is ruined.”

  “Oh God,” I breathe. My legs already burn from the position I’m holding.

  His deft fingers spread me open. Running a single finger through my slit, he rumbles, “Nora, so damned ready for me. Always. Christ.” Another rush of liquid seeps out. Then his tongue darts out and circles my clit so lightly, so teasingly. My legs give way, but strong arms wrap around the backs of my thighs to keep me from falling.

  “Connelly, please,” I beg, undulating my hips, trying to get what I need from him. My sex is empty. I need something. Anything to quench this fire culminating.

  “You want to coat my tongue like you just did my cock, don’t you, Nora?”

  My yes is swallowed up in a lust-induced fog when he lowers his head between my spread thighs and devours me in an openmouthed kiss. In one long lick from back to front, his tongue unravels me. Tears me apart. Within moments, I’m moaning and writhing uncontrollably under his talented mouth. In under less than two minutes, I’m coming apart at the seams, moaning for him over and again.

  My muscles liquefy. When his hold releases, I slide down his torso in a sated heap, ready to sleep. But he has other plans. Controlling my body with incredible ease, he places me on his lap and drives inside me in one smooth, ruthless thrust. I gasp at the fullness, feeling something I didn’t think I’d ever feel again.

  Perfection.

  Peace.

  Whole.

  “Hell, yes. You’re mine,” he grunts in my ear, pumping like a man unhinged. “Mine, Nora.”

  His d
eclaration tears free the brittle threads that have held me together. He painstakingly unravels me thoroughly and completely so he can put me back together again, stitch-by-stitch, the way I was always meant to be. Joined to him. I was his. I am his in a way I’ve never been able to comprehend. My body responds to his nearness, setting my soul free and making me sigh in contentment.

  “Always. I’m yours,” I pant.

  “I’ve…missed…you…so…damned…much.” Each word is rumbled in time with the ferocious stab of his hips. “So fucking tight and hot. Squeeze my cock, baby.” His groan is long and broken when I obey.

  Burying my head in the crook of his neck, I cry out as his thrusts become more urgent, more uncontrolled. My entire body shakes. I am a wild, reckless, hot twisted mess.

  “Ah, Nora. God, I can’t hold back.” I feel him swell right before he stiffens. His grip tightens to the point of bruising. His head falls back at the same time my name cascades out on the most erotic moan I have ever heard. That, combined with the wash of his seed deep inside, sets off my own fireworks. The rush of rapture firing through me is almost blinding. I bask in the heady glow as long as I can before gravity tugs me back to reality.

  As we come down from our intense high, my body trembles against his and he holds me closer. He never stops whispering kisses over my chilled flesh when he withdraws and carries me silently through his condo to his bedroom. He cleans me reverently. He comforts thoroughly. Tucking me into him, he draws the sheets over us and strokes my sweaty hair.

  “Sleep, sweet girl,” he rumbles against the crown of my head.

  I want to. I’m absolutely exhausted. Emotionally and physically. I can’t, though, without saying one last time, “I’m—”

  “I forgive you,” he interrupts. “I forgive you, Nora. We can’t rewrite history. We can’t change our decisions as much as we wish otherwise. We have to live with our mistakes, but we don’t have to let them rule our future. I want to start over. I want to bury this and make the life with you and Hazel that we should have had. That I want to have now.”

  His plea is heartfelt and sincere, not full of blame. It tears at me somewhere deep down. I tip my face up to meet his eyes. “You can really forgive me? After all I’ve done?”

  “Yes. I didn’t realize that I could do nothing but forgive you until I saw you run out of that bar. Every step you took away from me was like a fresh wound to my soul, Nora. It’s taken me a while, and I’m sorry for that, but as someone wise recently told me, hanging on to resentment is like wearing cement shoes. I don’t want to look back on my life and realize I’d drowned with them on. I don’t want to lose you again. I told you, princess, that baggage is too heavy and I’m tired of carrying it. All I want, all I need is you and Hazel.”

  “Is this real?” I whisper the same question he did just weeks ago. My head is a jumble.

  His face is soft and loving. Stroking my cheek, he says, “As real as it gets, baby.”

  He rolls me on top of him and frames my face. “Never leave me again.”

  Slowly, a smile creeps across my face. “I thought you said never say never.”

  A smirk curls those beautifully swollen lips of his before he says, “In this particular case, I think never is appropriate, wouldn’t you agree?”

  Grinning, I say, “I do.”

  “I’m thinking about tying you to my bed, just to make sure you stay put,” he says, his tenor low and gravelly.

  “You’ve tied many a woman to your bed, have you?” I ask teasingly, but the thought makes jealousy stir.

  “I don’t let women in my bed, Nora.” I almost laugh before the earnestness of his tone catches up with me. It’s then I realize that Connelly and I have been treading a parallel path. I’ve not had many lovers while he’s had too many, but the one thing we’ve had in common is our inability to be emotionally intimate with anyone else. We’ve both lived lonely lives, just in very different ways.

  “So I would be a first?” I push.

  It’s dark, but I still see his sincere grin. “You seem to be the first with a lot of things. The only, in fact.”

  “Okay then, I’m definitely game.” My voice comes out sultry and needy at the thought of being the only woman completely at his mercy.

  Chuckling, he pulls me down for a drugging kiss before draping me over him once again. “Sleep for a while, princess. You’re going to need it. Because my goal before the sun breaks is to make you come so many times you lose count.”

  I try to tell him that I don’t need sleep; I’m ready to start losing count now. But when I open my mouth, a yawn sneaks out instead and my eyes shut before I can tell them why they should stop. I feel like I haven’t slept in a month. As I drift toward unconsciousness, I hear Connelly whisper that he loves me. His arms squeeze protectively, keeping me safe. Keeping me his.

  My journey has been long and tumultuous, but I know I’ve reached my final destination.

  It only took me eleven lonely years to arrive.

  Chapter 33

  Conn

  Lord, she is impossibly beautiful. And mine.

  Sitting on the edge of the bed, I watch Nora sleep. Dark lashes rest against her fair skin. They remind me of inky fans. Her breaths are shallow and even. Lips still kiss-swollen. She’s more peaceful than I’ve ever seen her.

  She belongs here. In my bed. In my life.

  It feels right.

  I know some people will scratch their heads at my decision to forgive Nora. Even adamantly disagree with it, thinking her punishment should be perpetual. She kept me from my daughter and my daughter from me. Yes, it was an egregiously bad decision, but I also know in my heart of hearts at the young, immature age of nineteen, knowing she slept with someone else and wasn’t sure if Hazel was mine would have been too raw, too ego bruising, and absolution would have been impossible, regardless of my own mistakes at the time.

  The thing is, mistakes aren’t measured in ounces and pounds, the scales tilting in favor of one or the other. If they do, that’s called a grudge and your side will always weigh more, holding you back, keeping you down. You will lose, even though you’ll think you’re winning.

  So, no. Her sins are not heavier than mine or vice versa. Hers are no less deserving of forgiveness than my own. Our errors in judgment are exculpated by compassion, understanding, and empathy. But most of all, unconditional love. It’s far easier sometimes to play judge and jury and condemn without understanding than to do our own soul-searching.

  When I saw Nora walk out of that bar misunderstanding what she thought she’d witnessed, I saw my future leave with her. It took me until that very moment to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I had no choice but to forgive her. My soul has screamed for her all these years. She’s opened my eyes to all of the things in my life I’ve been missing but refused to acknowledge. Love, companionship, comfort in the arms of someone who actually gives a shit about you and your well-being.

  But regardless of how forgiveness plays into our situation, there is no future without Nora. We share a child. We share responsibilities. We will forever share a life whether together or apart. And I tried to picture it with her floating in the periphery. I pictured her eventually meeting and falling in love with somebody else. I envisioned her pregnant with another man’s baby. I saw myself forever pining for her like I’ve already been doing for so many years. And it gutted me. Ruined me.

  My mom was right, and not just about removing baggage.

  Nora owns my love. She’s my beginning and ending, the whole space in between. My forever.

  So whether anyone agrees with my decision is completely irrelevant. I know this place, right here, right now, with Nora sharing my bed is what’s right for me and my family. I just hope she can forgive herself.

  Nora shifts and I glimpse a hint of her dark pink areola peeking out from the covers. My cock swells. The urge to drag down the sheet that’s covering her and take her again is raw and pulsing. Her moans and pleas from the many ways I wrung the last ounc
e of pleasure from her body last night still echo loudly in my ears.

  “Ready for number five?”

  “Five, huh?” She sighs in contentment. “I didn’t think that was possible in one day, let alone one hour.”

  “That sounds like a challenge, princess.”

  “It wasn’t. Trust me.”

  “Too late.”

  I stopped keeping track at seven. Nora’s brain had turned to sated mush far earlier. I want to wake her, but I won’t. As it is, I think I woke her about every two hours all night long because of my inability to control my insatiable desire for her. These last few weeks without her have been hell.

  With a heavy sigh, I pull on some gym shorts and exit the bedroom. When she wakes, we need to talk about getting our family back together. Permanently. I want the three of us living under the same roof. I want access to my girls twenty-four seven and I don’t plan on wasting any more time. I have no idea how Nora will react, but I have no intent on letting her say no. I’ve never been more resolved about what I want.

  I’m in the kitchen, starting to pull the things together I’ll need to make crepes when my cell rings.

  “Up awful early, aren’t you?” I quip, unable or unwilling to hide my good mood.

  “It’s after eleven already. I’d hardly call that early,” my twin replies.

  “Is it really?” I hadn’t even bothered to look at the time yet.

  “Talked to Mom yesterday.”

  “Yeah?” I want to tell Ash about my reconciliation with Nora, my grand plans for the future. Ash has been nothing but supportive of whatever I decide, but he’s been the one who’s pressing hardest on me to give Nora a second chance. I’ve found that a bit odd, given the fact that Asher’s not the forgive-and-forget type. We couldn’t be more opposite in that regard. I think perhaps his wife has something to do with his newfound change of heart.