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He wouldn’t hear a single complaint from me.
The horn of a car abruptly bleats outside. Between my legs, every muscle quivers. I’ve never wanted to come so badly.
But I remove my tongue from his skin and stretch on tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “Next time you find me, I’ll expect you to make good on that warning, Wiseman.”
With a hiss, he seizes a big fistful of my hair. He pulls, hard enough to draw a yelp of surprise from my mouth.
The sound curls his lips into a smile. There’s an arrogant quality to that smile. A man who thinks he’s won and can take what he wants whenever he wants.
He can. There’s plenty I want to take from him too.
“It’s on, Haven. Start looking forward to getting your pussy wrecked like nothing else.”
His guttural vow is not unlike a threat. If it came from any other man I’d bristle and breathe fire. Instead, his promise crawls into my bones and nearly sends me to my knees.
My heart hammers. I struggle to recall how to inhale and exhale properly.
Conner releases his hold on me so suddenly that I nearly stumble into the wall. He flings open the door. The headlight glare from Vito’s hulking Escalade bathes the broad driveway.
Conner casually waits in the doorway as the swollen shape of his cock threatens to split his drenched boxers apart. He’ll need to take care of that before he can get any sleep tonight. The mental image of Conner fisting his own rigid cock and jerking off threatens to drain what little self-control I have left.
With my purse and my clothes clutched to my chest like a feeble screen, it takes a supreme effort to peel myself away from the wall.
Vito leans on the horn again. Fair enough. I’m the one who summoned him. Now I can’t seem to find my way out the door.
Conner idly waits, one hand holding onto the door, unbothered by the fact that water continues to fall from his skin and splash on the tile floor beside his bare feet.
My brain has emptied of useful tools like words, ironic or heartfelt. All I can do is concentrate on holding my head up and ignoring the storm between my legs.
A pang of regret hits the same instant as a return to the night air. I have a chaotic impulse to turn around, run back to Conner, collide with his hard body and lock my legs around his waist.
We could use the hell out of each other all night, both of us raw and spent by daybreak. I can almost taste it happening.
Instead, my pride demands that I scrounge up every shred of my willpower, walk upright and not stagger to the waiting car in a sex-drunk daze.
The creamy leather interior smells strongly of my father’s cigarettes. Vito waits in the driver’s seat, strumming his ringed fingers on the steering wheel with impatience. He spares a suspicious glance at Conner’s house before his doughy faces glances at me in the rearview mirror.
“Everything cool, kid?”
“Yup.” I feel no need to elaborate. He’s worked for my family long enough to understand that there is never an invitation to ask questions.
Vito’s known me since I was a teenager and he’s a father himself. He makes no comment on the fact that I’m shivering in the backseat while wearing only a damp t-shirt but he’s thoughtful enough to spin a dial on the dashboard and blast some heat this way.
“Thanks, Vito. My car is at Lita’s. You can drop me off there.”
No additional explanation is required. With a nod of his thick neck, Vito pulls slowly away from the curb.
I snap my seatbelt into place and try to dismiss the clash of passion and feelings. But, like an itch that demands to be scratched, I can’t stop myself from glancing out the window before Conner’s house disappears from sight.
He stands silhouetted in the doorway, backlit by the gentle light drifting from the living room. He’s already waving farewell, like he just knew I wouldn’t be able to help turning around for one last look.
Conner Wiseman already has me figured out.
Flustered, I flop back into the leather seats. I’ve always prided myself on being tough and impenetrable. Either Conner has a unique gift or else I’ve become too obvious.
Whatever the answer, he’s in my head and he has won the day. I’ve sentenced myself to a night of brooding in my lonely apartment and thinking about him until I’m too tired to think at all.
Oddly enough, I don’t even mind.
