“What are you doing?” he asked as I unbuckled his belt.
“What do you think I’m doing?”
“You don’t have to…” But he couldn’t complete the thought because I took him in my mouth, swirling my tongue around the tip as I stared up at him.
He gripped the counter, his mouth forming an “o.” And despite my lack of experience, I felt like a queen. Even though I was the one on my knees, he was at my mercy. For all his powerful muscles—thighs, insane abs, and broad chest—I was the one in control. I’d never felt more powerful or sexier than I did in that moment.
I continued my ministrations, licking, sucking, teasing him as he hissed through his teeth, “Fuck, baby. Fuck. So good.”
But then a moment later, he pulled me off of him. He lifted me onto the counter, frantically pushing my dress aside. “I need to be inside you.”
I nodded, biting my lip as I watched this strong man struggle to maintain control. He sheathed himself, his movements precise despite his haste. A second later, he yanked my undies aside and thrust inside me. I leaned back on my elbows, feeling everything so deeply. His lips on mine. His hands in my hair. The warmth of his skin. He hadn’t just invaded my home and my life this week, he’d laid siege to my heart. And I wasn’t sure how I’d ever recover.
He tilted his head to mine, our foreheads kissing as our ragged breaths mingled in the air between us. “Olivia.”
It was so intense, too intense. And I shut my eyes to try to stem the onslaught of emotions. But it was too late. I’d already let him in.
He cupped the back of my neck—the touch both comforting and yet somehow commanding. “Look at me, Goody.”
I shook my head. I couldn’t. I couldn’t do it. It would break me. But I also couldn’t refuse.
His gray eyes were filled with just as much emotion, just as much love as my own. And seeing it reflected back at me, I knew… I would never be the same again. Connor owned me.
* * *
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I stared up at the house, nestled in a large gated community in the Hills.
“Of course.” Connor rounded the car, reaching into to the back seat to remove the box with the chocolate crack cookies I’d baked. “Catherine said I was welcome to bring a guest.”
“Yeah, but…” I glanced at the cars lining the street. There were so many of them. “She probably meant a significant other, not—” I lowered my voice. “A fuck buddy.”
He frowned, and it was then I realized just how intimidating he could be as he loomed over me, glowering. “Is that what you think you are to me?”
I lifted a shoulder, unwilling to say more as a couple approached on the sidewalk. A pit formed in my gut, sadness threatening to overtake me. Had he ever indicated otherwise? Had we ever discussed what would happen after this week was over? No—because there was nothing to discuss. When he went home, this would end.
“Connor, hey,” the man said, stopping to shake his hand.
Like Connor, the man was tall. But it was his arms that really stood out—they were massive and covered with tattoos. Despite his intimidating appearance, he flashed me a warm smile, his green eyes sparkling with curiosity. And the woman standing at his side was…stunning. She had black hair and blue eyes that were shrewd, assessing. Together, they made a striking couple.
“Hey.” Connor placed his hand on my lower back. “Mark. This is Olivia. Olivia, Mark.”
“Nice to meet you,” Mark said as we shook hands. “This is my wife, Charlie.”
We chatted for a moment before following them up the path to Jackson’s home. Connor placed his hand on my lower back, but it did nothing to calm my nerves. Especially not when he leaned in and said, “This conversation isn’t over.”
I stared ahead but nodded. Though, really, what else was there to say? This was fun, temporary. And wishing for something more was both unrealistic and foolish.
We entered the house, and Connor assessed the situation. He was fascinating to watch—always on alert, constantly scanning for potential threats. I knew he did it out of habit more than anything else, but I liked knowing he did it all the same. It made me feel safe, protected.
“Muffin,” Mark boomed.
I followed his gaze to the top of the stairs, where a man stood with his hands on the banisters like the captain of the ship. Scruff lined his angular jaw, and he seemed far too serious for a celebration.
He chortled. “Twilight. What the hell are you doing here?”
“Couldn’t miss my biffle’s forty-fifth birthday, now could I?”
Muffin? Twilight?I turned to Connor. “I assume those are call signs, but what the heck is a biffle?”
