I open my mouth to show him just how bossy I can be, but at that very moment, his chin dips and grazes my clit through my panties.Shut up, Rosanna, and let the man work his magic.
Fingers still holding tightly to mine and pinning them to the bed, he dips his chin again and then buries his face in the gusset of my panties and breathes me in.
“Ahhh...” I gasp as my pussy throbs with unsatisfied need and widen my legs as much as I’m able to, which isn’t much. Unable to stop myself, I beg unashamedly with tiny whimpering chants. “Please. Please, Connor. Good God, do something. More. More.”
“My kitten wants more?” Grinding circles of his chin drive me insane. “I’ll give her more.” A flash of his teeth shows as his head tilts down.
Oh, God. Is he going to bite me there? At this point, I’m willing to try it if it means I’ll get to come. Just let him keep—
A loud crack rings through the darkness, then a scream of pain that goes on and on.
“What the...?” Connor jerks up and drags me off the bed and into the closet. “Stay low,” he orders as he snatches his phone from the nightstand and looks through the blinds of the window to the parking lot below.
“What was that?” I nervously ask as I awkwardly zip my pajamas back up, heart beating rapidly. “It sounds like someone may need an ambulance.” I wonder if it was the same people who’d been arguing earlier when I woke up from my nightmare.
“Gunshot,” he replies grimly. “And you might just be right.” He pounds the numbers in and lifts the phone to his ear, speaking with the dispatcher as soon as they answer.
Is this my life now? Drama from one moment to the next? Morbidly, I realize this is the second emergency call we’ve made in twenty-four hours. Might even wind up with two deaths to make it match.
Ending the call, Connor drops to the floor in front of me, eyes alert and vigilant. “The police should be on their way.” He grips the nape of my neck, gives me a hard kiss, and brings our foreheads together. “As soon as they get here and clear the area, we’re leaving. You get your essentials, and you’re moving in with me. End of discussion. Got it?”
He’s serious as a heart attack.
Mr. Wright’s heart attack.
And, truthfully, the last place I want to be right now is here in these crappy apartments. I could never sleep easy here after what just happened. When I give a tiny nod, he sighs in relief and tucks me under his arm. His steady breathing subtly urges my lungs to match his pace, bringing a calmness over me.
The air is heavy, but I feel safe in his embrace. He feels bulletproof, even though I know he isn’t. There’s not a doubt in my mind that he’d take one for me, though, and it makes my heart soften.
Long minutes pass without the police showing up, long enough that a niggling sense of guilt tickles my conscience as I wonder about the person who probably got shot. Part of me feels the urge to help them, but at the same time, I just want us to hide away from it all. “Did you see anyone out there when you looked?”
“No. Either they were in the shadows, or they both ran off.”
More guilt piles on me when I think of Mr. Wright dying alone. “Do you think we should go make sure? What if they’re passed out on the ground somewhere where you couldn’t see them?”
Connor cradles my face in his big hands. “At this moment, there’s no one more important to me than you. We don’t know what the situation is out there right now. Sure, it looks like whoever had the gun ran off, but what if they’re hiding around the corner? We don’t want to be the ones to spook them into shooting again. No, we’re staying inside and waiting for the cops.”
He’s right, and that makes me feel better in a terrible sort of way. What’s the proper protocol for wanting to render aid to someone who may be dying but not knowing if it’s safe to do so? I’d want someone to help me, for sure, but, selfishly, I’m grateful that Connor’s staying in here with me. It would do no one any good if he got shot trying to save someone. Then there’d be two people needing help.
As I swallow my guilt back down, a quick flash of selfish bitterness coats my tongue that this all happened right before I was about to have the time of my life. God, I didn’t even get to come. But then I feel bad for thinking that way because it wasn’t as if the person wastryingto get shot.
Maybe.
I snuggle up to him just a little more as we wait. Finally, red and blue lights filter through the blinds.
“About fucking time,” he growls.
More minutes pass, and then someone pounds on our door, sending another shot of adrenaline through me. “Police!”
With another hard kiss to my lips, Connor stands. “Go ahead and pack. We’re leaving soon.”
Pack. Okay. I need to pack my essentials. Clothes, hygiene products, shoes, vitamins. Grabbing my duffle bag from the top of the closet, I throw things in there as muffled voices travel from the front door.
Phone and phone charger. Gotta have that.
When I’m finished, I sit on the bed and wait for him, not really wanting to walk out there in my cat onesie. Should I change?
Before I reach a decision, the door shuts. Connor strides in moments later and hugs me to him. “Everything’s okay. They found shell casings, but no body. You got everything you need?”
