Chapter Eight
Gia
I’d seen Connor in many moods, but this one was new. His gaze was focused, yet abstract, which was weird. Cassie had just left, but he was still staring at the door with an intense fear that he had to visibly restrain. I saw it in the way he clenched his fists but hid them inside the pockets of his sweatpants. His gut was tight, his belly sucked in and his shoulders rigidly broad.
It took me a moment to understand why he was acting so odd, but then I heard the elevator ding. He was listening as Cassie departed. And he was keeping himself from running after her.
This was Connor at his most protective, and it shocked me to the core. His feelings were raw and intense, and ten times more powerful than anything I’d seen in a game. He was desperately afraid for Cassie, and yet he was holding himself back so that she could be a normal college student.
Admirable. And so damned sexy, I felt a wave of desire like I’d never experienced before.
Because in that one stance, I saw Connor as a husband and a father. Love for Cassie pulsed like the vein in his neck. It beat out loud and clear, and I knew that he would do anything for his younger sister, without hesitation.
What would it be like to be loved like that? Not only that fiercely, but with the strength to hold back, to not smother?
I never knew my biological father, and my mother had lost her battle against drugs by the time I was nine. I’d been a street kid. Even though foster care had picked me up soon after her death, I vividly remembered scrounging for food, wondering who or what waited around the next corner. A rainstorm meant a miserable, freezing night, and a snowstorm could mean death. Even though my adoptive family was the best, I had a desperate need to be loved and protected. And here it stood, right in front of me.
Connor, listening carefully as his sister got into the elevator.
I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t. When the elevator doors shut, he took a slow breath. Then he turned to me. His expression was weary now, almost sad, as if this desperate love he had for his sister was quietly wearing him down. But his focus now was 100 percent on me, so maybe it was my presence that exhausted him.
“What do you want from me, Gia?”
That, my soul answered. I wanted what he felt for Cassie, only man to woman. I wanted someone to love me so deeply it exposed him like a raw nerve to anyone who looked. And even more, I wanted to love someone that fiercely, myself.
Was I even capable of loving like that? I mean, I loved my adoptive family. Totally. But there was a tiny core inside me that I had walled up. I protected my deepest self. I don’t think I would cut off my own arm to save my parents or even the sister who lived with me. I would give a lot, but the unthinking devotion I saw in Connor wasn’t inside me. A tiny part of me always said, Think of yourself first.
When I didn’t speak, he sighed and leaned against the back of his couch.
“Gia.” The way he said my name sent shivers down my spine. The feeling wasn’t exactly pleasant, but it was definitely intense.
I should have told him that I was here to get an interview, to make him talk to me. But instead, I confessed, “I planned to blackmail you into giving me what I want.”
His eyes widened, and then he narrowed them abruptly in a scowl.
“Blackmail me, how? I haven’t done shit.”
True enough. “But you are super private. I was going to…” I swallowed and rephrased my statement. “I am showing you that I found stuff out about you. I know where you live. I know Cassie and have been to her games. I know that she was hospitalized her senior year in high school and that Sophia never graduated from college, even though she lists it on her website.” I had more details, like where his favorite restaurant was and even some of his web-surfing habits, though nothing salacious had popped up. But I never got a chance to voice them. At the mention of Cassie’s name, he growled and rushed forward.
I skittered back, startled, but he didn’t touch me. He stopped just short of that, his expression livid, his hands hovering in the air inches from my shoulders. It was like he wanted to throw me out of his apartment but he stopped himself.
I quickly threw up my hands in surrender. “I know stuff, Connor, but I’m not printing it!”
So much for my strong blackmailer stance. I’d caved the minute he stepped into my personal space. And worse, my sudden confession didn’t stop his glare or the way his hands tightened as he drew them back to his chest.
“I need you to go along with this,” I pressed. “I need you to talk to me.”
“Why!” The word wasn’t a question. It was more like a demand, so loud it made me wince. And that made me angry. I was on his side. I was trying to help him and the Bobcats. And yet, here I was, worried about what he was going to do when I’d just seen him be stunningly loving toward his sister.
That set my back up, and I covered the ache inside with fury. I pointed my sharply manicured nail and poked him straight in the chest.
“Why? Because everyone wants this publicity except you. Joe loved the idea. Your agent has been harassing me for this since the day I started with the Bobcats. I have several outlets interested, but only if I write something amazing. The only one fighting this is you!”
He grabbed my finger and held it away from his chest. “Because it’s my life!”
“It’s mine, too!” I pulled my hand out of his. “I’m the lowest man on the Bobcat payroll. Joe didn’t even want to hire me at first, but I convinced him. So I need to produce something that’s really good.”
“Bullshit,” he snapped. “Your job at the Bobcats is secure.”
I snorted. “No job is secure, and you know it. Least of all mine.”
He frowned. “But you’re great at publicity.” The words came out grudgingly, which was how I knew he really believed what he was saying.
“So why are you fighting this?” He opened his mouth, but I cut him off. “And don’t say it’s because we’re all liars. That’s a lame excuse. You know you need us. Hell, your sister runs a publicity firm…”
That was the wrong thing to say, I realized as a blankness come over his features. WTF? After all the adoration he showered on Cassie, it was startling to see the wall snap up behind his eyes at the mention of Sophia.
I decided to investigate a little deeper. “There are lots of untruths on Sophia’s website. You have to research to find them, but she’s misrepresented or outright lied a dozen times.”
He didn’t answer, though his jaw muscles were popping.
“I haven’t told anyone. And I’m not planning to.”
He turned away. “Stay away from Sophia. She’ll only hurt you.”
Okay, so he wasn’t in the least bit protective of his older sister. Good to know. I folded my arms. “I really couldn’t care about either of your sisters, except in the most general sense. I’m trying to understand you. Why won’t you talk to me?”
He turned back to me, his expression hard. “I don’t talk to anybody. I don’t like publicity. I don’t want anyone looking into my life or—”
I stepped up to him. “It’s just your batting average—”
He touched me this time, putting his hand on my face, cupping my jaw as he lifted my gaze to his. “It’s you, Gia. I don’t want to talk to you.”
Heat shot from his hand to my skin, creating a flash fire in my body. His face was so close, and his eyes lasered into mine.
“It’s you, Gia,” he repeated, his voice a bare whisper.
I knew it was. Hell, he’d told me so in the bathroom. In the last week, he’d done everything possible to avoid me, and I’d hated it. I suddenly realized that what I really wanted was this. His hands on me. His mouth next to mine. And that harsh sound he made when he surrendered to desire. It would come any moment now. I could feel it.
And there it was.
A guttural moan. And then he was kissing me. Those earlier feelings that I’d tried to hide under anger—jealousy of his relationship with his sister and the need for his attention—they surged forward like an irresistible tide. And I did my best to pull him under with me.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed myself along his torso. He slid his hands down my back and cupped my ass, hauling me hard against his pelvis. I felt the hot press of his penis, and I wrapped my leg around him to deepen the contact.
Then suddenly, it was over. He pulled away from me, and though his nostrils flared, his words were not what I wanted to hear.
“Gia, no. We have to stop.”
No, we didn’t. Right there, with his hands around me, I knew the real reason I was here. It was for this. Why lie about it? So I grabbed his head and tried to kiss him again. But he was stronger than I was and held himself back.
“Gia, think! We work together. We—”
“I don’t care,” I said. An image flashed through my brain of him standing there, watching his sister. Five minutes ago, he’d exuded everything I wanted in a man. Strength. Love. Respect. I wanted that. And sure, it had been for his sister, but right now, that wasn’t important. I wanted to pretend it was for me. I wanted to be with him and think—for one night—that he felt that way about me.
“Connor, I want this. Forget about work, the interviews, and everything else. I won’t tell a soul. No strings attached. Just…” I swallowed. “Say yes.”
His hands gentled on my ass, and I felt them like large, hot brands. I felt the way they trembled, and I saw the hunger in his eyes. Lust, pure and simple. I knew it was echoed in my face.
“I promise. I won’t tell a soul,” I said.
“Just tonight?”
My heart ached at that, but if those were his terms, I’d take it. “Come morning, it will be as if it never happened.”
He groaned. “That never works.”
“It will for us. I swear.”
“It can only be for tonight. Nothing more.”
I nodded, though part of me was crying out, Why? Why couldn’t I be a forever girl with him? But then, just as I was teetering on the edge of mortification, he changed, scooping me up in his arms and carrying me through his apartment.
I cried out, half in surprise, half in delight. I used my arms to stabilize myself on his shoulders while my legs wrapped around his torso. I kissed him deep and hard, thrusting my tongue into his mouth for a split second before he rapidly won that duel and pushed into mine.
We were still fused together when he bumped into his bed. I was busy tugging at his T-shirt, trying to pull it off him. I uncoiled a leg enough to support my weight while he tried to gently set me down on the mattress. We both ended up toppling over in a mass of arms, legs, and half-stripped-off clothing.
I laughed at the impact and saw a flash of a smile on his face. But then I sat up and pulled off my shirt and all humor fled from his face. His gaze was on mine, but as I inhaled, I saw his eyes drop to my chest, to where my breasts were full and aching beneath a black lace bra.
“Not copper this time,” I said, but then groaned.
He had extended a single finger and was tracing the lace along my breasts, drawing it over my tingling flesh while my breath stuttered in and out.
“Be sure, Gia,” he murmured. “Please be sure.”
“I am.” Then to prove it, I reached behind my back and popped the clasp. I let him pull away the bra, then shuddered in delight as both of his hands cupped me then kneaded my breasts. I fell back on the bed, opening my arms to him. He squeezed my nipples, and my sex pulsed. Then he leaned down and captured a peak with his mouth.
He was good with his mouth. Teeth. Tongue. Suction and nip. He toyed with my breasts like he did with a baseball. And I felt dizzy with hunger at each passing second.
I wanted to touch his body. I needed to feel those muscles under my fingers, feel the strength of him inside me. I dragged his T-shirt up.
He released my breast with a pop that had me arching as sensation shot through my spine. I hauled on the cotton fabric of his shirt, anxious to get my hands on his skin. He pulled it off with a rough jerk. I had my hands on his chest then, stroking across the flat disc of his nipple while his pecs rippled in reaction.
“All night,” he rasped. “All night?”
I nodded, too breathless to answer with words.
“Quick and fast okay? For the first one?”
I paused, not in surprise but because the hunger that shot through me momentarily froze my muscles. Hard and fast was exactly what I had in mind.
I pulled my hands off of him and immediately started unzipping my jeans in quick, jerky motions. He helped strip them off me, dragging my panties down with the denim.
“Condom?” I managed to ask.
He reached over and pulled open the bedside table drawer, while my hands went to the taut cotton of his sweatpants. He had an impressive erection tenting the fabric, and I had to pull twice to get the waistband up and over it before sliding them down his narrow hips.
I heard the rip of the foil packet, then watched with hungry eyes as he sat back and rolled it on. I reached out to touch him, but he brushed my hand back.
“I won’t last,” he said. “I’m holding on by a thread.”
I grinned. I loved it when a man wanted me as desperately as I wanted him. He stood up for a moment, kicking off his sweatpants and giving me a good look at his gloriously naked body. Every golden inch was satin-covered power. And he was coming for me.
He was wearing his game face. Focused and intent. His nostrils were flared, his body tight with intention. As he hooked his hands under my knees, drawing my legs up and apart, I flopped back onto the pillows. I felt like he was preparing me as carefully as he studied to make a perfect play.
Nothing was left to chance as he set my legs on his shoulders. He braced my hips, shifting them to where he wanted me. Then he pinched my clit in a sharp and stunning bolt of sensation.
I cried out and arched in reaction, my legs pulling me higher on the mattress.
He caught me in the air and held me where he wanted. And then he waited.
“Connor!” I gasped.
“Say it, Gia.”
“Say what? That I want this? Yes! I want you? Yes!” I surged upward, grabbing his shoulders and holding firm. “Fuck me already!”
The coarse word sparked something in his eyes. It was dark and dirty, and I loved it.
Then he impaled me.
It was a single thrust that had my whole being stretching to accommodate him. I tried to grip him with my legs. I wanted to draw him deeper inside, to hold him close and not let him go. But I had no leverage and no strength. Not compared to him. Not when he held me wide open as he pulled back out.
“No!” I gasped. “Don’t leave.”
It was a stupid thing to say, but he felt that perfect inside me.
“Touch your breasts. Plump them for me.”
I blinked in confusion, but my hands were already obeying. I pushed my breasts together, creating full cleavage. And I squeezed my nipples because I wanted to.
He slammed into me again.
The impact made me squeeze my breasts tighter. I cried out because I had to. So much sensation. So much desire.
“Again!” he ordered.
I squeezed, and he drove in again.
“Show me your nipples. Pull them out for me.”
He was slamming into me with steady, hard thrusts. And his eyes were on my breasts as I squeezed my nipples and pulled.
I wanted to arch my back to deepen his impact. I wanted to split myself apart so he could touch the very heart of me. I wanted deeper, harder, stronger.
And he gave it to me.
Suddenly, an orgasm ripped through me. My entire body squeezed tight and burst, but he barely seemed to notice. He was pounding still, the steady movement making me writhe against him.
Harder. Faster.
But he wasn’t done yet. He seemed to need something from me, but God, I couldn’t think. I couldn’t do anything but feel.
“Now, Connor! Now!”
His face pulled tight. His jaw thrust forward, and his teeth flashed in the light.
He exploded. I felt the power of it, deep inside me. He ground down against me and gripped my hips like a vise. My climax continued, squeezing him as he pushed at my walls. And his face…God, what a sight.
Bliss. Pure, unadulterated beauty. Rapture in the lift of his chin, the parting of his lips, and the shimmering joy in his eyes as he held my gaze.
He was looking at me while his body climbed to the heavens. And I held on to him so he could take me there.
We stayed like that for I don’t know how long. Him in ecstasy, and me rippling with pleasure because he was inside me. Because he was still coming. Because he was Connor.
Eventually he stopped, his expression softening from the rigidity of rapture to the gentler planes of joy. His lips curved into a smile.
“Are you okay?” he whispered.
“I’m amazing.”
“That’s true,” he said, smiling.
Then he pulled out, and I mourned the loss. He set my legs down, then he leaned over and pressed a kiss to my belly.
My muscles rippled in reaction, my stomach tightening in a flash of energy. He grinned at me. “I like making you move like that.”
He went to the bathroom and cleaned up. I lay on his bed and inhaled his scent from the sheet and my own skin. I felt languid and deliciously naked. Normally, I’d cover up after sex. I wasn’t the type to just lay there, exposing all my body flaws to a guy who’d just taken me to sexual heaven. And yet, I was doing exactly that.
He came out from the bathroom and grinned when he saw me. My eyes had been at half-mast, but at his smile, I perked up. And with it came self-consciousness. I stirred—slowly—and tried to close my legs.
He stopped me quickly, crossing the room with his characteristic speed. I didn’t even notice his limp, though something must have brought it to mind. Perhaps it was the way he grimaced as he sat down on the bed next to me.
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
He hesitated as if thinking, then shrugged. “I’m ready for round two.”
He was hiding from me. Keeping his personal thoughts to himself. And after the intimacy we’d just shared, that felt like a slap to the face. He must have read my reaction. I’m sure my face tightened, and I finally managed to pull my legs together.
But he touched my shoulder and frowned at me. “Are you hurting?”
Yes. “No. I, uh…I’m just trying to gather my wits.”
“Don’t.”
I looked at him and decided to challenge him. “Then you don’t. Talk to me, Connor. What were you really thinking?”
He frowned and spoke slowly. “I was thinking that you’re beautiful. That I now have two times with you to remember. That I want to make it a third.” He waggled his eyebrows at me.
I did, too, but there was more to this man than catching baseballs and great sex. There was pain and defensiveness behind his eyes, and I wanted to know what had caused it. I wanted to heal him. And I wanted…
I looked away, feeling awkward and stupid. I was the smooth-talking publicist, but suddenly, I had nothing to say. I felt his hand stroke the hair from my cheek. It was an idle caress, but I felt it through my whole body. His heat, the callouses on his fingers, and even the occasional scrape of his nail. I was that sensitized to him.
“Gia, we can stop anytime you want,” he said. “You can even leave, and I won’t stop you.”
Leave? I wanted to crawl inside his life.
“But we said one night, and I’d rather not cut the time short.”
I shifted my gaze back to his. I could see he meant it. And even more disarming, I couldn’t find any hint that he was holding back. There were no emotions hidden behind his eyes. No pain that I could detect. In fact, what I saw was the same restraint he’d shown with his sister. He’d held back to give her the space she needed. And he was doing the same for me.
Damn. He was giving me the choice…and the decision. Whatever I wanted, he would work hard to accommodate.
“What do you want?” I asked.
“To lick you until you scream.”
I blinked. That was not at all what I thought he’d say, and it temporarily robbed me of words. My body, however, had no trouble keeping up. My belly clenched, and my thighs tightened in hunger.
“Um.” What could I say? “Okay.”
He grinned as if I’d just given him a gift, and maybe I had. Sure, I was about to get another mind-blowing orgasm, but he got to avoid being truly intimate with me. We both got what we wanted. I wouldn’t speak about being so lonely that I built elaborate fantasies around a coworker, and he wouldn’t tell me about whatever made him so paranoid about publicity.
Win-win, right?
Wrong. I was going to figure out his secret, but right now, he was kissing my breast, and I lost all coherent thought. Coiling his tongue around my nipple, he sucked it in while pleasure spiraled through my body. He was thorough and leisurely, and everything else disappeared beneath his steady intensity.