by Ivy Hunt
Instead of responding, I ask, “What are you doing here?”
“You really thought I wouldn’t come? When the call dropped like that? Christ, I thought you had hurt yourself.”
Guilt fills me. I never thought Connor might actually be worried. I swallow and pull away. “I went for a coffee. Caffeine.”
I’m huffing and puffing like a wolf hunting pigs from making my way up the stairs. I was away an entire hour—I had to hobble to the corner cafe and back on my crutches. The time in-between was spent looking for answers in the coffee grounds at the bottom of a paper cup.
And just when I’d made up my mind never to see Connor again, I find him waiting outside the open door to my apartment. It’s like the gods of the coffee beans are having a little laugh, telling me I didn’t know how to interpret a sign when I see one.
Squawking comes through my alarm system before he can say more. My eyes fly up to the robotic eye, bouncing around like a cyclops on crack.
“Your parents,” Connor says.
Fucci.
Retrieving my phone from him, I deactivate the camera and alarm, then call my parents back and calm them down, using the tone I perfected as a kid. “Mom, Dad, I swear, I’m fine.” I channel good-girl Ella all the while maintaining an annoyed expression for Connor, even though I am hard-pressed to keep it up. I can’t believe he’s here. It’s like karma has thrown him in my path. Not that I believe in fate.
“Yes, thank goodness for the alarm,” I say, now speaking to my near-hysterical mother. “Mom! I’m fine. Seriously. No UFOs have come to carry me off just yet.” I roll my eyes and catch Connor staring at me. He shakes his head but I see a hint of a grin flicker on his lips. I can’t help but respond with a small smile of my own. I think I’m supposed to be upset that he’s here, uninvited. That he’s barged into my apartment and caused this ruckus.
Finally, I end the call and face him fully.
“Why are you really here?” I ask, while greedily sucking in every detail of Connor’s presence—disheveled blond hair, overnight stubble, a thin jersey over worn jeans, even in the freezing cold.
“Because I was worried.” He looks at me, incredulous, his words are a striking bowling ball, and I’m a teetering pin.
“Why do you care?” I try to keep the panic out of my tone.
“I like you.”
Well, there’s nothing coy about that. “You don’t know me!” I croak.
Connor crosses his arms and stares me down. “Oh, no? I know that you were sick growing up, you love your family, even if they drive you nuts, and more than anything, you want to be independent—also, your favorite ice cream is pistachio. You like ripping things up and reassembling them. And your favorite color is blue.”
“It’s orange.”
“Liar,” he says, but the small smile reappears on his mouth. “You also think Groundhog Day is a real holiday. And your taste in food is… peculiar.”
My happiness is momentarily tamped by that blasphemy. “All that information was shared under questionable circumstances.” I pause and wrinkle my nose at him. “And my taste in food is impeccable.”
Blood thuds in my ears, I’m not sure what I’m saying. I knew there was some kind of attraction there. We kissed and all that, but to blatantly say it out loud like that? Has he never heard about building up to the moment? Talk about dropping a bomb on a woman. I need to think. Maybe he hit his head too?
I’m not stupid enough to think the attraction between us is more than temporary—even if he does.
I risk a glance at him from under my lashes and immediately wish I hadn’t. His confidence is disturbing. But I’d be stupid not to take advantage of this… aberration. Maybe I can gorge on all the ice cream flavors? Have a fling. Indulge until I feel sick, and I’ll never want another bite ever again. No one said anything about forever.
Yes. I can control this situation. This situation is my burbitch.
“Don’t you have a job to get to?” I tap my watchless wrist with my phone.
He rubs the back of his neck. “Fuck.” An agonized expression crosses his features, as if he doesn’t want to leave. I am strangely flattered as I watch him war with himself before his face goes resolute.
“I’m coming back.” His chin is set in defiance.
“Fine.”
He blinks. “Fine?”
“Fine. Come over tomorrow. Bring food.” I wrinkle my nose at him. “Maybe something you think is less… peculiar.”
There’s surprise in Connor’s gaze. “You’ll be here?”
I nod. He examines me for the truth. I don’t know if either of us knows what’s going on here, but now’s not the time to figure things out. He lets me walk him out.
I close the door behind him and lean back against it. Now what?
Chapter Sixteen
CONNOR
I went over to Ella’s place the next day. And the day after. And the day after that. It’s been a week now.
I want her. That’s clear. And she wants me, too. But it’s more than mere attraction. Those moments in my rush to her place, when I couldn’t reach her, only cemented that fact for me, and denial is pointless—a complete waste of time. I don’t know what this is, only that it’s more than she’s making it out to be. But for some reason, she isn’t admitting it to herself, keeping me at arm’s length.
I’m tempted to push, take things further, but there is still wariness in Ella’s eyes. We haven’t kissed since that first night, but I know she thinks about it. As do I.
Patience. I’m known for it. I can go at her pace. Even though I’ve pictured her naked so many times at this point that my hand is chapped from beating off in the shower.
Tonight, I bound up her stairs two at a time with the plastic take-out bag swaying with my steps. Ella’s apartment door swings open before I can knock. But the scowl on her face makes me pause. Crazy eyes flash and I make myself approach slowly. “I come in peace.” I hold out the bag of Mexican food from Rosalita’s.
She rolls her eyes and waves me in, but I’m gratified when a hint of a smile flirts on her lips.
“Hannah came over earlier. She rescheduled her cake tasting for today. I missed the one wedding appointment I was actually looking forward to!” Ella glares at the mannequin as if she wants to stick a knife through its back. “You’d think that she’d bring me some samples, but nooo. Instead, she has me altering that.”
That is a pink, poofy dress with enough material to clothe a village and have enough left over for a circus tent.
Ella continues muttering, “You’d think she’d care that I was in a robbery, but no, that’s not Hannah. The rest of the time she was over, all she did was pump me for information about you.” Now her scowl is directed at me.
“Me?” My eyes widen.
“Yep. The way she tells it, Hank’s your number one fan.” She snorts derisively. Definitely not impressed by my football status.
“Would you like me to get him tickets to a game?” I offer. If it will make her life easier…
“Oh no. Let’s not encourage that.” She shudders.
I’m strangely hurt that she won’t accept even that, but I’m not going to interfere.
She looks back at the sewing machine and lets out a resigned sigh. “She’s so in love with Hank, she’ll do anything he says. Sometimes it’s embarrassing.” Ella makes a face. “I never want to be like that.” She puts on a high falsetto, “Yes, dear. No, dear. Fuck me in the butt? Come right over, dear.”
I laugh, so, so hard that my abs cramp.
A grin quirks on her lips for the first time today, and it’s like my world cracks open.
But her smile is fleeting, and she sighs again. “And, I have to deal with all my other paying clients on top of everything.”
“Then why didn’t you say no to Hannah?”
“I can’t say no. She’s my sister. And her wedding events are starting soon—welcome dinner all the way through the pre-honeymoon brunch.” Ella lapses into silence, br
ooding at the dress.
Reaching over, I stroke the line that’s formed between her brows. Her lips quirk as she turns to me, her expression softening as she relaxes.
I encourage her to eat. Ella deems the food ‘acceptable’ even though I can tell she likes it. Fine, I’ll go along with her little games. Win her over. I like a challenge, though she’s more to me than that. How much more? I don’t know, but I’ll put in the time to figure it out.
“Only acceptable? I’m not the one who left us without leftovers,” I tease.
I get a harrumph I know she doesn’t mean and hide my grin.
Post-dinner, we are in our usual positions in front of the TV, feet propped on the coffee table. I marvel at how much farther mine reaches in comparison to hers.
Ella is in short-shorts and a blue tank top that dips low between her breasts. Her legs are smooth. She still has her splint on even though she gave up her crutch a few days ago. It is propped by the sewing machine, more clothes slung over the handgrip.
I watch her out of the corner of my eye as she flips through the channels. Her expression is pensive.
She nods to herself then turns on the couch to face me.
I tilt my head and adjust, so we mirror each other, each leaning on our hands with our elbows propped on the armrest.
She takes in a deep breath as if steeling herself. “You said you like me.”
Not the conversation I was expecting. “I do.” There’s no hesitation in my voice.
“But you haven’t made any moves on me.”
My lips quirk. “Would you like me to?”
Ella looks at me so suspiciously I have trouble hiding my grin.
“I know what you are doing, you know?” she says, scowling.
“And what’s that?” There’s no hiding my smile now.
“Fattening me up for the kill.”
This time, I crack up completely. Only she can make me react like this. Full-on belly laughs rock my body, while my chest fills with helium, making me feel almost weightless.
“Who, me?” I say when I can take in a solid breath, holding up my hands to show I’m harmless, even as I give her another wicked look. “It’s a brave new world. Maybe I’m waiting for you to make the first move.”
“And why would I do that?”
“Because you like me, too.” My voice is all confidence.
She gives me a condescending look, but I can tell she’s enjoying our flirtation too.
My voice comes out low, husky. “I dare you, brave girl.”
Chapter Seventeen
ELLA
Connor’s expression is smug. But when I reach out and lay a hand on his leg, he swallows, losing some of that cockiness. A rush of power fills me at the want in his eyes. It’s been like this, night after night. This slow build up. I’m still apprehensive, but I’m more impatient than anything else. Greedy for him now. Only he hasn’t made a move since his ‘I like you’ comment.
I toy with the hem of his cashmere sweater, and my fingers idle along a loose thread. Even expensive clothes aren’t immune to unexpected snags. With slow deliberation, I bend over his lap. His sharp inhale makes me smirk. Drawing the stray bit of wool between my teeth, I nip it cleanly off. But I linger an extra moment—I’m pretty sure something twitches in that region. Slowly, I rise, bracing my hands on each of his powerful thighs. I give him an innocent look.
He clears his throat. “You, Ella Marie Dixon, are an evil, evil woman,” he mutters.
My lips curl into a smirk. This femme fatale business is more fun than it looks, and I’m relishing the sensation. “You really thought I’d fall for that ‘I dare you’ teenage silliness?”
Broad shoulders lift then lower. “You don’t know if you don’t try.”
I raise my brows. “And I suppose this type of thing has worked for you in the past?”
He doesn’t answer. Of course, it has. With his Ken doll looks and superstar status, why wouldn’t it? A pang rushes through me, and a little of my new-found confidence wanes.
But I push on. He’s already said he is interested in me. All I need to do is take this for what it is. Temporary.
Flashing him what I hope is a coquettish look, I say, “Your turn.” Now’s when he’s going to make his move. I’ve left myself open.
I wait.
But his expression is bland, his head cocked in my direction—though I spy a hint of smugness behind it.
My eyes narrow.
He tries to hide a smile.
I glare.
And now it’s his turn to smirk.
A stalemate, then. “You won’t be able to resist me for long.” I’m basically saying, ‘take me now’. What does a girl need to do to get some action around here?
“Who says I want to resist you?” All the playfulness deserts his eyes. They are hot with desire. The room goes silent as we stare at each other, even the sounds from outside seem to have stopped, almost as if the entire city is waiting in anticipation of what will happen next.
Connor’s nostrils flare, ever so lightly, but that’s enough of a sign for me.
I sling a leg over him, so I’m straddling his lap.
Immediately his hands are on me, hauling me close. Heat flares in my belly at the realization that he was waiting for me, and now that he’s gotten the green light, there’s no stopping him.
Connor’s mouth is on mine and my lips open to his tongue. I’m just as desperate. He doesn’t hold back, the kiss is hungry, devouring.
Long fingers grip my butt, holding me captive, preventing me from retreating now that I’ve made my choice. The hard length of his cock pushes at my center, insistent, even through our clothes. I’m barely able to suppress a moan as I bear down on him.
He grunts and his mouth moves over my jaw and along my neck. I whimper when he finds an especially sensitive spot.
“Yes, baby,” he growls, nipping there gently.
My hips rock against him and I clutch at his hair. “Connor.”
He flips us around so that it’s my back against the couch, and makes his way down my body, lighting up each nerve ending he passes.
He pauses at the valley between my still-covered breasts, and buries his head there for a second, as if he needs to catch his breath. Then warm hands continue along my sides, until his thumbs slip into the edges of my shorts.
Both of us still at that contact. Connor raises his eyes to mine.
I bite my lips and nod, just once. With a flick, he has my shorts undone and drags them down my legs together with my panties, holding my gaze the entire time. He tosses them behind him. His nostrils flare as he finally takes in my bare lower body, and my inner muscles clench at his attention.
I sit up and try to bring my legs together, but he fits himself between my thighs before I can. He draws in a deep breath, taking in my scent, and I blush. Then he lowers his head. A lick, a single stroke of his tongue and I shoot up, little shocks buzzing through me. But his big hands anchor my hips to the couch, keeping me open.
He licks me again, as if he is savoring the taste of me. It’s too much. I twist and moan, trying to get closer and edge further away at the same time as he continues to lap at my center. Once he’s sure I won’t escape, he slides one hand to my center, but puts the other on my belly as insurance.
And then a finger pushes, working its way into my depths. He thrusts, and I gasp. Another finger joins the first, making quick work of me.
I come so hard, I swear my breath stops.
Then I’m up in the air, and he’s carrying me to my bedroom. His gaze scorches my skin even as he lays me down with care. We kiss again, then part, only for a second, so he can tug off his shirt and jeans. He’s commando. I raise my brows. “Confident, were we?”
I take a moment to look.
He’s big. And I’m…not.
I smile. I can’t wait.
Connor gives me an answering grin and shrugs, unabashed. “Efficiency is key.” He illustrates the point by whipping my top off and settl
ing his mouth against the pink lace of my bra, the lace abrading the tender skin there. I moan and all humor flees. His gaze goes dark, earthy.
And then he’s drawing away. “Condom,” he growls.
“Drawer.” I’m desperate, as if he hadn’t made me come just minutes before. He reaches over and grabs one. Why is the sound of ripping foil sexy? Patience is shot, I just want him inside me now.
Chapter Eighteen
CONNOR
I sheath myself and push into Ella with a groan. “So. Fucking. Tight.” I press my forehead against hers and grit my teeth, forcing myself to hold still. She’s soft and slick around my cock, enveloping me so snugly that I’m almost reluctant to pull out, even though I know it will only get better. I want to prolong this sensation, this moment. I inhale one lungful of her scent, and then another, savoring her. But Ella has other ideas.
“More.” She wiggles against me.
I huff out a laugh. This woman. “As you wish.”
This time, she just gives me a sly grin as I draw back. We buck our hips at the same time, coming together with explosive force. Her lids flutter shut and a long moan leaves her. For a second I’m concerned, about to withdraw, but almost as if she can sense it, she locks her legs around my waist. “Harder. Oh god, Connor. Do that again.”
Who am I to deny her?
I groan as I comply, thrusting in hard, again and again, to the cues of her accompanying gasps. Her hands come to my hair and pull tight.
Jade eyes, feverish with desire, lock on mine, and her lips part. I can’t help it, I have to take her mouth, so hungry for more of her taste.
She kisses me back as if she’s just as starved. Our tongues mate, slick and wet, until I am filled with her taste. My lips move to her jaw, her neck. My teeth graze her bare shoulder before finding her breast. I press a soft kiss against the tip and she inhales sharply. I flick her nipple with my tongue over and again, before I suck at her, hard.
She arches tight against me, squeezing my cock tight, moaning. Whatever little command I have on myself snaps.