Chapter Thirteen
Meredith arranged for a last-minute table for them at Muccino’s Italian Restaurant, which was just around the corner from the Lone Wolf office They walked there together, and Connor held her hand for the quick, five-minute stroll.
As soon as they got there, they were escorted to a booth in the corner of the restaurant. Evie scooted into the middle of the seat and Connor followed. Even though the booth could seat about six people, Connor’s size made it seem crowded.
Evie bit her lip. What was going on? Connor had asked her out on a date. Well, technically, he told her they were going out on a date. She stifled a laugh. It was awkward but nonetheless sweet. He even opened the door for her going into the restaurant. It wasn’t that she couldn’t imagine Connor as a gentleman, but she was still confused what this whole thing was about.
"Would you like some wine? Appetizers?" the eager young waiter asked.
“No wine, just some sparkling water, please,” she said. “But do you have any of that artichoke dip?” She looked at Connor. “If you don’t mind.”
"Get the lady whatever she wants," Connor told the waiter. "Plus, we'll have whatever specials you’re making for the night. And I'll have your beer on tap."
The waiter nodded. “All right, sir. I’ll get you started then.”
And, so, they were alone. Despite the din of the restaurant, the silence between them was deafening. She still wasn’t sure what this was about. Well, at least she got a good meal out of it because she was starving.
Mercifully, their waiter came back with their drinks. She took a sip of her water. Unable to bear the silence any longer, she decided to ask him some basic stuff—first date things you usually ask someone. "So … you like working at Lone Wolf? With your brothers?"
“Yeah, I suppose.” He shrugged. “Quinn’s a pain in my ass sometimes, but I like being around all of them. It’s like old times.”
“Old times?”
“Yeah, before Archie—” He stopped short.
“I’m sorry,” she said, looking down at her lap. “I didn’t mean to bring it up.”
“It’s fine,” he said in a gruff voice.
Okay, so maybe that wasn't such a good idea. Another topic, maybe? "Um, so how do you like New York?"
“I don’t,” he answered, his voice brittle like glass. “Too noisy. Too cramped. Smells terrible in the summer.”
She gave a weak laugh. "True, but the vibe here … it's so different." When Connor scowled, she fell silent again. Maybe this wasn't going to work. What were they supposed to talk about? Wasn't all this weirdness supposed to go away once they had sex? They were doing this all backward.
Thankfully, the waiter arrived with the appetizers, and Evie busied herself practically demolishing the plate of artichoke dip and bread. She was nervous, for some reason, and eating gave her something to do. "Uh, sorry, did you want some?" She pushed the plate to him.
“No, go ahead; I’ll wait for our food.”
Oh God, she had turned him off with her monster appetite. She shrunk back. She was still hungry but thought it best to wait and put her hands on her lap.
Connor frowned. “Now what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
He let out an impatient sigh. “If you’re hungry, just eat. I don’t give a f—care if you finish off your plate.”
“I shouldn’t,” she said. “I have about ten pounds to lose and—”
“Says who?”
Her head snapped up at him. “Huh?”
“Who says you need to lose ten pounds?”
“Well, no one, but—”
“Then eat up,” he pushed the plate back to her. “You’ve already gotten too skinny.”
She laughed. “What do you mean too skinny? You don’t like my body?”
“No,” he said quickly. “I like your body any way it is. But do you like you?”
Aside from the fact that he said he liked her (well, her body anyway) his question made her stop. Did she? She always thought she needed to lose twenty pounds so she could finally get a starring role. All the other actresses on stage were thin and in shape. “I …”
Before she could answer, their waiter arrived and put down two hot plates of delicious Italian food in front of them. She moaned as the scent made her stomach gurgle. Turning to Connor, she saw he was looking at her with a different kind of hunger on his face.
They ate in silence, though it wasn’t as awkward as it had been. Connor watched her with hawk-like eyes, and she made sure to eat to her heart's content. He had also moved closer to her, their thighs pressing together in a delicious manner that had nothing to do with food. It was sensation overload—the scrumptious feast and Connor's nearness—and it made her insides go haywire. And his coffee scent … grrr … how could a man smell so insanely good to her? It was driving her crazy, and all she wanted to do was jump him right then and there.
The meal wound down, and they finished off a plate of tiramisu and panna cotta. Evie tried to take out her wallet, but Connor insisted on paying, handing the waiter a wad of bills.
“I’ll take you home now.”
Evie felt irritation rise in her. She was confused, which only made her frustrated, which then turned into anger. What the hell was this about? He takes her out and then sends her away again? At least the last time she got some orgasms. The only thing she got now was about three thousand calories worth of food that'll be hell to get rid of. With an impatient grumble, she quickly slid out of the booth and dropped her napkin on the table.
“Evie, what the—where are you going?” he called as she stormed away from the table.
“Home,” she replied, without giving him a second glance. She barely made it out the door when he caught up to her and stepped in her path.
“What did I do?”
“Nothing.”
“Shit,” he cursed. “I’m not good with women, but even I know that when you girls say nothing, it’s always something. How did I fuck up?”
She sighed. “Look, maybe it’s too soon for this, but why don’t you want to sleep with me?” He blinked at her, confused. “I mean, sleep with me. Invite me to your place to spend the night?" He stood there, dumbfounded. "Never mind. Forget I asked." She sidestepped him and walked out into the street. It wasn't too late yet, and she could still take the subway home.
"Evie, wait," Connor called. He caught up with her as she was making her way to the station. "Wait." He grabbed her gently by the arm.
“What?”
His jaw was tense. “It’s not that I don’t want to take you home, but …” He dropped his hands to the side and let out a frustrated grunt. “I can’t.”
“I told you, it’s fine,” she said, trying not to sound disappointed.
"Evie … I … I can't. I don't know if you would want to anyway."
“What?” she asked. “What do you mean?”
He stepped back. “Well, first of all, what happened in the dressing room shouldn’t have happened.”
“Oh.” The bottom of her stomach dropped. He was regretting having sex with her.
His eyes widened. “No, don’t think that way,” he said, as if reading her mind. “I mean, you deserve more. More than me. More than a fucked up Lycan with a wolf he can’t control. A Lycan who has no future.”
Something in his words pricked at her. “What are you saying, Connor?”
His expression changed as if he had said too much. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing."
“Connor,” she said in a calm voice. She put her hand on his arm when he tried to turn away. “Please, tell me what’s going on.”
A low growl tore from his throat. “I …You’ve spent time with Lycans, right?”
She nodded. “All my life.”
“You know that Lycans have animals inside of us, as part of us.”
“Yes.”
“Mine is different. It’s not a part of me. I mean, it is, but it’s separate.”
“I don’t understand. But,” she moved closer. “I want to.”
Connor let out another growl. "The wolf … it always wants to take over. And sometimes I let it. I can usually get control back, but lately, since Archie … when I let him die and failed to protect my family, it's been unmanageable. Each time I shift, it takes me longer and longer to come back."
Evie gasped. That wasn’t how it worked. The human side was always supposed to be in control. If they weren’t, well … “How long?”
"It used to be hours … now, sometimes it's an entire day." His hands clenched into fists at his sides. "And, sometimes, I'll wake up in the middle of the night and I'm naked, lying in the middle of the living room with no idea what happened. The couch and the curtains will be ripped up …" He shook his head. "I'm losing control, Evie. Even in my sleep. I'm no good for you—"
“Stop,” she cried, putting her hands on his chest. “Don’t say that.”
“It’s true,” he replied, gently prying her hands away. “I could lose control at any moment. There is no future with me, can’t you see? Do you know what happens to Lycans who can’t control their wolves?”
She jerked her head back, and her spine went stiff. "No. You can't mean that …"
"That's the way it is," he said. "Grant Anderson will put me down if I ever become a threat to his clan or to humans. He won't risk exposing our secret."
“No,” she protested. Her hands moved up to the sides of his face. “No, no. You can’t mean that.”
“It’s what needs to happen.” His lips thinned. “But not before I get my revenge.”
“Against the man who put you in that place?”
He nodded. “Fuck Lycan law. I’m going to find him and then kill him. I’ll let the feral wolf inside me loose one last time and—”
Desperation had built up in her chest, and Evie did the only thing she could think of to stop him. She pulled him down for a kiss, crushing his lips to hers. He seemed taken aback at first but responded quickly. He took charge, slowing down the desperation and turning it into a slow caress. Arms wound around her, pressing her close so she could feel every hard plane of his body.
"Evie," he whispered against her mouth. His eyes were closed, and he touched his forehead to hers.
“You won’t hurt me.” She truly believed those words. She didn’t know how, but she knew. “And if you suddenly shift, I’ll know. I’ll run the moment anything goes wrong.” He hesitated, but she sealed her mouth to his again. “I’ll be safe with you. I’m always safe with you.”
“Okay,” he finally said. “Will you stay with me tonight?”
“Yes.”
***
Evie wasn't sure what to expect when Connor brought her home. For one thing, ‘home’ was the W Hotel on the Upper West Side. It was a luxurious place for sure, but, for a moment, she was confused.
“Connor, where are we?” she asked when they entered the elevator. “Are you taking me to a hotel?”
He nodded, and Evie noted the look on his face. At first, she thought it was sadness, but seeing the way the muscles in his jaw twitched and the way he kept rubbing his hands on his pants, it was something completely unfamiliar. Was Connor nervous?
She followed him out of the elevator and down the hall to the last room on the left. He took out a keycard and opened the door, then let her in first.
The room—or rather, from the size of it, the suite—was sumptuous. It was modern and sleek, and, as she stepped out into the plush living room, she noticed it was decked out with the latest gadgets. Turning to the large window, she let out a little gasp when she saw the amazing view of Central Park.
“Wow,” she said. “It’s great … but I don’t understand.”
“I live here,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets as he approached her.
“You live here?” she echoed.
He nodded. “I can’t stay in one place. It’s too suspicious, and my wolf won’t let me. It always wants to be on the move in this city. And, like I said, it’s always destroying things. It’s easier to just let the management deal with it than having to change furniture or explain to the neighbors.” He shrugged. “It’s another reason I couldn’t bring you here. I didn’t want you to see how fucked up I really am.”
“Connor …” She moved closer. “You’re not. You’re doing the best you can. And what you said back at the restaurant … it’s not true.”
He looked up at her, his green eyes burning bright. “About what?”
"That you failed your family," she said. "They're still here. You're all together again, and you've kept them together and safe. I know what you do for Killian and Quinn, how you've saved them on lots of occasions." When he opened his mouths to protest, she put her finger on his lips. "I've read those reports about your ops and missions for Creed. And I bet you've also helped protect Meredith. She's special to you, right?"
He nodded, and his Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed. “She was so young when she came to us—much younger than any one of us—and we could tell she wasn’t treated right. I swore, when she came to us, that I would always take care of her and protect her.”
“But who takes care of you, Connor?” She really did wonder. This big, burly, giant of a man might think he was everyone’s protector, but someone had to take care of him, too, right?
He didn’t answer but, instead, leaned down to kiss her. His mouth was warm, sweet, and gentle, yet sent swirls of delight through her. She felt light as a feather, and she realized only moments later that he had lifted her into his arms.
Connor carried her into another room—the bathroom she realized—though this room was just as luxurious as the other room. There was a large jacuzzi in the corner and an enclosed shower in the opposite corner. He placed her on her feet and began to unbutton the front of her dress. When the fabric fell to the tile floor, she stepped out and reached behind her to take off her bra. Then, she stepped out of her panties. Meanwhile, he grabbed the bottom of his shirt and stripped it off, then made quick work of his pants and underwear, shucking them off in one motion.
God, he was magnificent. She realized this was the first time she was seeing him fully naked. Her mouth went dry as her eyes traced along the muscled planes of his broad shoulders, admiring the tattoos on his arms. A light sprinkling of hair dusted his well-formed pecs, and she couldn't help but look lower to the perfect set of eight-pack abs and the deep V of his hips. She lingered on the wolf's head tattoo on his rib cage, her heart aching when she remembered what he had told her. No, she would not let that happen, wouldn't let it get to that. Connor had spent the last few years protecting those he loved, and she would be damned if she let him throw his life away.
He sucked in a breath, and she could feel the heat of his gaze as he looked at her. She lifted her head up, and their eyes locked. Picking her up again, he took her to the shower and closed the stall behind them. He reached behind her and turned on the rainfall showerhead, stepping in front of her to test the water before adjusting it and pulling her under the stream.
The water was the perfect temperature—not too cold but hot enough to soothe her aching muscles. She moaned when two large hands grabbed her breasts from behind. Connor had some bath soap on his palms, and he kneaded the soft flesh, lathering her up. His fingers teased her nipples, and she felt his cock, fully hard, pressing up against her ass. One hand moved lower, between her thighs and down to her slickness. He probed her, moving his forefinger up and down her slit before slipping inside her.
"Oh …" She rubbed her ass on his cock. It was his turn to moan. His hips thrust forward, the ridge of his cock planting between her ass cheeks, moving in time with his fingers. Soon, she felt the pressure building inside her, and she couldn't stop it. Pleasure crashed over her, and she was gasping as the warm water continued to rain down on them.
He slowed down, withdrawing his fingers from her. She whimpered in protest, but he turned her around and gave her a rough kiss before pulling back. “Let’s get to the bed.”
She didn't argue when he lifted her up again, then walked to the bed, grabbing a towel as they left the bathroom. He planted her on the edge of the bed and wrapped the towel around her, gently drying and buffing her body. She scooted back, watching as he quickly dried himself before tossing the towel aside.
Connor moved over her, sliding his body against hers. Feeling his skin on hers made her shiver. He captured her mouth in another searing kiss as he got between her legs.
The tip of his cock nudged at her slick folds. She was still wet from her earlier orgasm, so he slipped into her with little resistance. She pushed her hips up, trying to get as much of him inside her. God, she'd never been filled like this.
“Connor,” she gasped when he gave a small, experimental thrust.
“I don’t wanna hurt you,” he said. “Can’t get too rough.”
“You don’t have to be rough,” she whispered. “But you don’t have to hold back with me. Make me feel good, please.”
"Evie … so beautiful …" he murmured against her skin. He moved his hand under her ass, scooping her up and bringing her hips higher. As he thrust inside her, he hit her just right, and she let out a small cry, her nails raking down his back as a shudder of pleasure shot through her.
“Fuck …” He gasped. “So tight … wet … perfect.” She couldn’t help but blush at his words. He made another low, guttural noise, and one hand moved to the front, skimming over the skin of her pussy where they were joined.
She let out a whine as his thumb brushed her clit—the pleasure almost too much—even as his hips pummeled into her, his cock dragging along her inside passage.
"Come for me, Evie," he commanded, and her body had no choice but to obey. His fingers continued to stroke her clit, and she screamed as he pushed her over the edge. Her back arched, her arms swung backward so her hands could grip at the soft, silky sheets.
He let her recover, slowing down his thrusts until he stopped completely. When she opened her eyes, he was gazing down at her, his eyes like twin orbs of green fire.
"Connor, I—" Before she knew what was happening, he had flipped them over, so she was on top, straddling him. His hands traced up her waist to her breasts, cupping them and brushing the nipples with his thumbs. She suddenly felt self-conscious, but, when she saw his face, the look he gave her made her heart melt and she forgot about her insecurities. It was like she was the only woman in the world, and she had never felt so beautiful.
She moved her hand to his cheeks, cupping his face and gently tracing the scar over his eye. He flinched and tried to turn away, but she held him still.
“No, don’t turn away.”
“It’s ugly,” he said with disdain.
“No, it’s not.” Evie leaned down and kissed the scar over his eye, continuing lower over his cheek to his jaw, stopping only to give him a soft peck on the lips. She touched her mouth to the pulse on his neck, to his shoulders, all the way to his pecs. When she was done, she straightened her back, planted her knees on either side of him, and began to move.
"Evie … Evie …" He moaned her name like a reverent prayer as she rode him. From this angle, he seemed to fill her up even more, and she ground against him, seeking the friction that made her body shiver and shake. She leaned back, moving her pelvis back and forth, feeling the drag of his cock in her. She squeezed tight, which made him gasp and grab for her hips. His hands cupped her buttocks and lifted her up, then slammed her down on him.
It was her turn to moan and throw her head back as he fucked into her. His thick cock surged inside her. His fingers found her clit again, and she cried out another orgasm.
“Fuck, Evie … I …”
She could feel him, knew he was almost there, and she wanted nothing more than to make him come, to hear him grunt and moan his orgasm, knowing she did it. She moved her hips faster, squeezing him tight until he clutched at her hips hard. His fingers would leave bruises later, but she didn't care. The feel of his cock twitching and jerking as he filled her with his cum was all that mattered. His face twisted as the orgasm hit him, and she could feel the wetness inside her, flowing out and painting her thighs.
She collapsed on top of him, breathing heavily. His chest was damp with sweat, but it didn’t matter as she was slick with perspiration, too.
Connor rolled them over, his softening cock slipping out of her. He turned her over, so her back was pressed to his chest, and he cuddled her, his arm wrapping around her and pulling her close. She lay still for a long time, listening to the sound of his breath. When it became steady and even, she closed her eyes and drifted to sleep.