Chapter 5
Brittany
Connor pulls me up off the floor. One hand pressed against the small of my back, the other cradling my head, he hauls me in close. Then he smiles, slow and sexy. “What am I going to do with you?” he asks, sealing his lips over mine.
Unlike the last kiss, this one isn’t hurried. It’s slow, methodical, and utterly intoxicating. Skimming my hands up his arms, I tangle them in his hair. I’ve never been with a man whose hair is long, but I’m finding it incredibly inviting. Plus, it’ll give me something to hold onto when he has his head buried between my thighs.
Hell, Connor’s hair isn’t the only thing that sets him apart. My previous conquests have been perfectly groomed, suit or scrub-wearing types that wouldn’t dream of having a tattoo, much less a body covered in them. Maybe that’s where I was going wrong with men. Maybe all along I just needed someone more like Connor.
What the hell am I talking about?
I don’t need a man. I have a hard enough time keeping myself in check, let alone having to worry about a man.
This is all Connor’s fault. If it weren’t for his seductive mouth, I wouldn’t be having these crazy thoughts. Damn his lips for being so hypnotizing.
Giving his hair a tug, I pull Connor’s head back. His eyelids bob heavily several times. “Bedroom,” I say, my lips brushing his. “I need—” A loud noise rings throughout the house, interrupting me, and I cock my head to the side. “Is that a house phone? Do you have a landline?” I curl my lips into my mouth, trying to suppress a smile at the look of disbelief on Connor’s face.
“Yes,” he says chuckling as he pulls his pants up. He leaves them unbuttoned, which I assume is an invitation to get back into them later. “And don’t you laugh at me. It’s connected to my shop phone so I can take calls and appointments when I’m home.” I stare blankly at him. “People still have house phones,” he states firmly.
I shake my head. “Most people don’t have house phones.”
Connor takes a step forward, nudging me back. “Are you making fun of me?” he asks with a sly look on his face.
The phone rings one last time before the answering machine picks up. Connor’s voice filters through the air, but the caller hangs up. And that’s when I start giggling. I can’t help it. Slapping a hand over my mouth, I fail at trying to hold in my amusement, and the look on Connor’s face does nothing but make me laugh harder.
“I can’t believe you’re making fun of me.”
Maybe it’s the low level of alcohol still sifting through my body, or perhaps it’s all of the pent-up emotion I’ve been holding in lately. Or maybe it’s Connor and the way his eyes are softening as he watches me, but I tip my head back and let out the most unladylike snort known to mankind.
“Did you just snort?” Connor asks, making me snort again.
“I did.” I gasp, nodding like a damn bobblehead. “I totally snorted.” I take a few deep breaths to calm myself down. Wiping the tears of laughter from my face, I glance at Connor. Something in his expression has changed. He’s no longer looking at me like he wants to ravage me, and his face is void of any amusement. Instead, his eyes are warm and inviting.
The phone starts ringing again, and I point toward the other room. “Do you need to answer that?”
Connor shakes his head. “I don’t care who it is,” he says, taking another step toward me.
“All I care about right now is this beautiful woman standing in front of me.”
Oh.
Oh my.
That was good.
Connor’s eyes rake down my body and then back up again. He looks like a man who is in desperate need of food, and I’m his next meal. I don’t remember the last time a man looked at me like this, but I want him to look at me like this all the time.
But he can’t if you don’t give him a chance.
And just like that, my resolve crumbles. Because as much as I hate to break my own rules, I hate the thought of never seeing Connor again even more. The thought of letting my own fears keep me from what could potentially be something great makes my stomach roll. Plus, if any man is worth taking that chance on, it has to be this man. The one I can’t stop thinking about, and the one who makes me wish for things I’d long ago given up on.
And let’s not forget the butterflies.
A big, huge swarm of them that take flight every single time he looks at me.
I haven’t felt that … ever.
Two years is long enough, so I decide to go with my gut—or maybe it’s my heart. Right now I think they’re working together, plotting against me. Damn conspirators.
Swallowing hard past the lump in my throat, I say the words before I chicken out. “I change my mind,” I whisper.
Connor’s eyes widen, and in a flash I’m scooped up in his arms. But instead of walking down the hall toward where I imagine the bedroom would be, he walks into the living room. Sitting down on the couch, Connor settles me on his lap. I straddle his hips and bring my hands to the front of his shirt.
“This isn’t the bedroom,” I state, leaning forward to place a kiss on his plump lips.
Connor allows me to have my way with his mouth, and when I finally pull back to take a breath, he chuckles. “If I would’ve known it’d only take a blow job to get you to change your mind, then I would’ve obliged at the tattoo shop.”
I slap playfully at his arm. “The blow job had nothing to do with it.” The answering machine kicks on for the second time and I smile before continuing. “It was all you and that damn smile,” I say, kissing him again because, well…I can.
“Connor, the tattoo artist…” Gasping, I slap a hand over my mouth as my sister’s voice fills the room. “Brittany isn’t answering her phone, or her texts, and I am not happy about it. Did you know your buddy Todd is an asshole? Because he is. He wouldn’t give me your damn number. Do you know what I had to do to get him to give me your number?” she asks.
“Who’s Todd?” I whisper, lowering my hand.
“He owns the bar we were at earlier,” Connor answers as Casey continues with her tirade.
“I had to flash him,” Casey scoffs. “Can you believe that? The little shit wouldn’t give me your damn number until I agreed to flash him. Unbelievable. Anyway,” she says with a yawn, as if flashing Todd was no big deal. “Brit, if you’re there, I really need you to come home. I locked myself out of the house—” The answering machine beeps, cutting Casey off mid-sentence. Scooting off Connor’s lap, I grab my phone from the entryway table and shoot her a quick text.
Me: Be there in one minute.
“I’m so sorry,” I say, straightening my clothes. “But I’ve gotta go.”
Connor stands up, buttons his pants, and smooths out his rumpled shirt. “I’ll take you home,” he says, grabbing his keys from the hook next to the door.
As much as I hate to leave, this next part should be fun. “You don’t have to take me home, I can walk. It’s not far.”
“Hell no,” he says, shaking his head. “It’s after midnight. No way am I letting you walk home.”
“It’s really not necess—”
Connor’s big blue eyes fill with uncertainty. “Did you change your mind?” he asks, cutting me off.
“No,” I breathe, shaking my head. “Did you change your mind?” I’m hoping he’ll say no, because I wouldn’t bend my rules for just anyone and I really, really like him.
Connor takes a step toward me, wraps me in his arms, and pulls me in close until we’re nose to nose. “Not even close. Tonight was…”
“Tonight was what?” I ask.
Connor kisses me softly once…twice…and then a third time before pulling back. He licks his lips and runs the back of his fingers along my cheek. “You taste amazing.”
“Tonight was what?” I ask again. I want to know what he’s thinking, and I need to hear the words.
“It was fucking incredible.” Warm hands cup my cheeks. “I want to do it again. A lot.”
I bust up laughing. “You want a lot more blow jobs?”
“No…well, yes.” He starts laughing, too. “I want more of you. I want to get to know you. Let me take you out on a real date.”
“An official first date, huh? Where would you take me?”
“Is that a yes?”
“Yes,” I answer. Just knowing I’m going to get to spend more time with Connor causes my chest to fill with warmth.
“I was thinking maybe—”
My phone beeps with an incoming text, cutting Connor off. “Shit,” I hiss. “I bet that’s Casey.”
Connor releases his hold and I shiver at the loss of his touch.
Casey: It’s been three minutes. Where the hell are you? I have to pee.
“I’ve gotta go.” Bolting for the front door, I yank it open. Connor yells my name as I slip out the door, down his steps, and jog across the tiny patch of grass before stopping in front of my side of the duplex. Casey is sitting cross-legged on our porch, her back propped against the door.
“Where the hell did you come fr—?” She stops abruptly, her eyes cutting over my shoulder. Connor must have followed me. “No fucking way.”
“Way.” I walk up the stairs and nudge Casey with my knee. She pushes up off the concrete, giving me room to unlock the door. Shoving my key in the lock, I twist it and push the door open. I turn to Casey before glancing at Connor. She’s standing off to the side, her eyes bouncing between me and the sexy Adonis, who looks like he’s still trying to figure out what’s going on. She dances in place, squeezing her legs together.
“We’re gonna talk about this after I go pee.” She rushes into the house, our front door slamming loudly behind her.
“So,” I say, walking toward Connor. “It turns out I have this really hot neighbor. You should probably be jealous.”
“Do you walk around naked?” he asks with a cat-ate-the-canary grin. Warm fingers wrap around mine. He tugs on my hand and I fall forward against his big, hard chest.
“Only when my sister isn’t home.”
“Good to know. Don’t tell your neighbor that or he’ll be dropping by for unexpected visits. You know”—he shrugs—“to borrow sugar…and stuff.”
“Sugar?” I scrunch up my nose. “He doesn’t look like the baking type.”
Connor tilts his head to the side and brings his mouth to mine. He kisses me long and slow, only pulling away when we’re both breathless and fighting for air.
“He is now.” Connor winks and slaps my ass playfully before heading in the direction of his door. “He’s gonna be baking all the damn time,” he says, laughing, as he disappears into his house.
Well played, Connor. Well played.