For Her Protection(55)
Her don’t-fuck-with-me face.
She stepped out of the locker room and into the hall. Conner leaned against the wall, hands behind his back. His massive chest pushed against his tank, its muscled surface sending hot shivers of want through her. She hesitated and her foot twisted in her stilettos. She tipped, her bag thumped against the ground.
Instead of falling on her face she slammed against Connor’s chest as he lunged for her. Her cheek pressed against the exposed skin below his collarbone and all she could do was cling to him as her feet fumbled for balance. His sweat-slickened skin invaded her senses. Reminded her of what it was like to taste that skin as they made love.
Took her right back there—into his arms—to being his.
She straightened and pushed off him.
“You okay?” he said and kept hold of her elbows.
She didn’t look at him, couldn’t face his treacherous eyes.
“I’m fine. I need to get to work.”
“Charlize, don’t be like this,” he whispered, his voice like thick, rich honey dripping over her.
“How should I be?” She spat the words. Her eyes burned with angry tears.
He released her. “I wanted to make sure everything is okay with Jason. Make sure you’re comfortable with him.”
“Well he’s not going to be sleeping in my house—or in my bed, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“You’re fucking right he’s not.”
His eyes grew stormy with something dark and possessive. Something she hadn’t seen from him before. But then she knew she’d pushed for his reaction with that statement. If she was honest, she’d have to admit she wanted this. Wanted to see that he still thought of her as his.
Why was it she needed that knowledge, craved it?
She let him get too close. He’d gotten in her blood and something told her he was there to stay.
His gaze traced over her, owned her with one sweep. Made her wet and ready for him… Just. Like. That.
“Come, we need to have a chat.”
She pressed a hand to her belly. “I said I have to work.”
“You come with me or we do this in the hallway, it’s up to you.”
She clenched her teeth. A scene between them wouldn’t be pretty and she’d promised Alicia no more tantrums in her gym. She nodded and he turned and opened the door to the storage room across the hall. She followed him inside and tried not to be swamped by the fact they were only two feet away from each other or that he’d locked the door after them.
Racks lined the walls, stuffed with bags of balls and equipment, but Connor took up most of the space.
“I know you’re angry. But you need to understand your safety is still my number-one priority. I need to know it’s yours too.”
“I’m not going to do anything stupid. I’ll let Jason follow me around—if that will keep you off my back.”
He stepped closer, eliminated the gap between them completely. “That’s where you’re wrong, kitten. Your back is still mine. I’m going to protect it until I know it’s safe. But I’ll give you your space.”
Charlize rubbed her arms, needing to do something with hands that wanted to reach out and touch him. She should be angry. He still thought he had the right to tell her how things were going to be, he still thought he needed to babysit her. Yet somehow, knowing he cared brought her a sense of relief. She wanted Connor to have her back. Couldn’t fool herself that she didn’t.
“There’s something you need to know.”
Her gaze flew from the racks and fixed on him in the muted light. Shadows played across his stubbled jaw.
“More?”
He stared at her for a long moment. “The other day on the way to your aunt’s birthday party someone followed us. I think it was Gregory.”
“What?” she whispered, a prickle of dread piercing her stomach.
“There’s more to him than we knew. He has a history of violence. Of attacking women. And women who have reported him in the past have ended up missing.”
“Oh my god,” she breathed and staggered back against the storeroom wall.
Connor grasped her elbows but she shook him off.
“Why didn’t you tell me—why didn’t you report this?”
“I did report it.”
“I spoke to Detective Schorts yesterday—he said I had nothing to worry about.” She scrunched her forehead, trying to see through the cloud of confusion.
“I asked him not to say anything. I didn’t want you to worry.”
“You did what? You not only lied to me—you somehow got the police to lie to me too?” Her head pounded. The ends of the control she’d been struggling to hold on to slipped out of her grip. Tears burned trails over her skin. She swallowed down the sobs. He already thought of her as weak. She hated adding to that image by crying openly in the storeroom.