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“She can stand anywhere she wants, he won’t have her. No self-respecting man would.”
“Her? What did she do?”
He touched a loose tendril of hair by her temple. “Not all crimes were broadcast at the trial.” He combed his fingers into her hair, cradling her head. “I’m neglecting you.”
“No, you’re not,” she said. “Don’t think that way. And if you want to drop me off at mine so you can deal with family stuff—”
“You’re a McDade.”
Gratitude only took them so far. “I know why you tell me that. You want to comfort me. To make me feel safe. And I appreciate that, I do…”
His hand descended. “But…?”
“I’m not a McDade, not really. Maybe I wanted to be, or I thought I could be, but… I’m the corrupted, not the corruptor.”
“I’m the corruptor,” he said, pushing her legs from his lap. “You’re right, I have corrupted and exploited you. The council guys I’m paying off are at that party. I needed them to see you. To see us together so they’d relax about what comes next.”
They’d talked about that before, so it wasn’t a shock. No, that came in the icy detachment of his demeanor and snarling tone.
“Connel—”
“You’ve served your purpose, had your fun. We don’t need to keep up the charade. Thanks for the tip on your father; I’ll use that.” When the car came to a stop, he buzzed down the privacy screen. “Don’t get out. Just take her to her apartment.”
He exited, slammed the door, and the car moved off.
That was… What was that? How had things changed so fast? Did he just break up with her… or had she broken up with him?
They’d neglected each other. The sex was great, but when it came to the talking, to opening up and sharing, they were no shining example.
Damnit. Double damnit. They needed to learn to communicate… if they got the chance.
THIRTY-FIVE
SHE COULDN’T SLEEP.
A couple of times, she’d been on the cusp of drifting off and then she’d remember. It happened so fast. How had it gone from what they’d shared in his office to him effectively dumping her on the curb?
Tossing back the covers, a glass of water would help. No, well, maybe a gallon of whiskey might knock her out, but she didn’t feel like another trip to the hospital. If she started drinking, she may never stop.
Leaving the bedroom, she went around the breakfast bar to get a bottle of water from the fridge. Twisting off the cap, she was drinking as she turned to look into the room. The last thing she expected to see was Connel lying on her couch.
“Shit,” she whispered, the water bottle descending to the breakfast bar.
How had he come in without her hearing him? And without a key. Though he had told her it was easy to pick locks.
Going over, she wasn’t surprised to see his eyes open. Yes, they were heavy, and his mood was definitely sour, but that could be for any number of reasons.
Opening her hand, she held it out to him. “Come to bed,” she murmured.
When he was on his feet, she walked backwards, unbuttoning his shirt. His hands slid onto her waist, directing her around the furniture. As they crossed into the bedroom, she pushed his shirt from his shoulders and went to work loosening his fly. In unison with him shirking his pants, she wriggled out of her shorts, and he took her top off over her head.
When they were both naked, she finished backing up, sitting on the bed, sliding up it as he crawled on top of her.
She didn’t even say anything as her legs parted and he continued between them, guiding himself into her as her body relaxed.
Satisfaction wrung a relieved sigh from her lips. Just being connected to him again was comfort. His support, his companionship, meant everything to her, more than she’d realized. His eyes stayed on hers as he moved within her. The barbs of need, the spikes of pleasure, it was cleansing. He cleansed her, kept her protected from every evil in the world.
He wanted to take care of her, but the truth was, that was impossible. What they had was immense, bigger than any other relationship she’d been a part of, romantic or otherwise. They had a connection, a way of talking without words, or conveying their intensity without ever uttering a syllable.
