He fumed and waited. Drank a beer and waited some more. Tried to do homework, watch television, or read a book.
And waited some more.
A few hours later, her car pulled up to the curb and she got out. He watched her head toward her apartment, then pause in front of his door. Connor held his breath, his palm pressed to the cool windowpane. She glanced over, as if sensing his presence. She turned, stopped, and closed her eyes as if in an inner battle with herself.
Come to me, he mentally urged. His body tensed, waiting for her next move. Waiting for her decision. Come to me, Ella.
Her lips parted and she mouthed a familiar curse word she loved but rarely uttered. Then headed toward him.
He met her halfway. Just opened the door, dragged her inside, and took her in his arms. She never hesitated, lifting her mouth for his kiss, the earthy, musky scent of her curling in his nostrils. He was ravenous, rock hard in seconds, and his brain repeated one word over and over again without pause.
Mine.
He possessed her mouth with all the pent-up arousal and frustration racing through his body. Without speaking, he lifted her and walked into his bedroom, laying her down on the navy blue comforter.
“I waited for you,” he finally said. He took in the spill of her dark hair over his pillow, the rapid breath raising her breasts, the long lines of her legs spread open.
“I know,” she said huskily.
“You are so damn beautiful.”
She blinked, raised her arms, and he crawled on the bed. Clothes drifting off, he worshipped her, spreading her out, touching and tasting every precious inch of flesh. He buried his mouth between her legs and drank in her essence, his tongue swiping her hardened clit, gripping her writhing body and bringing her to orgasm while he drank in every spasm and demanded more, always more.
Fitting himself with a condom, he rolled and lifted her over him. She took him deep, rocking her hips to a wicked, eternal rhythm, her breasts spilling into his hands as he rubbed her tight nipples and let her set the pace.
When his orgasm came, the brutal pleasure shook him to the core, diving deep into places of his soul he never knew existed and giving it all over to her. He swallowed her screams as she shattered around him, and Connor held her tight afterward, knowing he may not be able to let her go again.
Chapter Thirteen
“A person can’t have everything in this world; and it was a little unreasonable of her to expect it.”—Kate Chopin, The Kiss
“I have to go.”
A full moon hung ripe in the sky. She sat on the edge of the bed, looking out the slats of the blinds, realizing she couldn’t do this anymore.
She had wanted to try. God, she wanted him that badly. She’d gone on that date, made polite conversation, laughed at his jokes, allowed his touch on her elbow as he guided her to the car, and thought about Connor Dunkle. Her date promised to call and she agreed to go out with him again, and then she drove home and knocked on Connor’s door.
He’d been waiting for her. Somehow, deep inside, she’d known. She wanted to convince herself she’d be able to engage in a hot affair with her next-door neighbor and her friend. She swore she’d be able to keep it light, realizing he was the type of man who didn’t look for long term and liked his easygoing, uncommitted lifestyle.
Instead, she’d fallen in love with him. And she wasn’t going to pretend any longer.
“Don’t go.” He rolled over and rubbed her shoulders. Pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck. “Stay with me.”
“Why?”
His grip tightened. “Because I want more time.”
Ella took a deep breath and stood. She felt his gaze on her as she pulled on her clothes, and he kept silent until she faced him. “How is this going to work, Connor?” she asked with a lightness she didn’t feel. “Are we going to have sex each time I come home from a date? What’s the term everyone uses? Fuck buddies?”
He flew up from the bed and stood before her, naked. His voice was a low growl of sound. “Don’t you ever use that term about us,” he bit out. “You’re important to me.”
“And you’re important to me. But we’ve crossed over into new territory and I’ve been afraid to scare you off. I can’t pretend I don’t have these feelings for you while I date other men. So, I’m going to ask, what do you want?”
He blinked. Stared at her. “I want you.”
She nodded. “In a committed, long-term relationship?” she asked calmly.
The look on his face told the truth. Sheer panic lit up those blue eyes, and he turned quickly away, as if to buy more time. “I thought—I thought we’d just take it slow. See how things go.”