‘That feels amazing, Bridg,’ he groaned into her neck. ‘I want you to do this again when there’s no fabric between us. I want to see your hand, so tiny, wrapped around my cock and watch you jack me off.’
He groaned again as she squeezed, fascinated at the sounds he made, the images he projected into her mind, and the evidence of his desire for her right in front of her eyes. His hips were moving now and his breathing was harsh as she continued to stroke and rub his cock. His smoky eyes held hers and she watched the play of his features as they hardened in desire and need.
‘It’s your call, sweetheart. I’m at your mercy. Do you want me to come for you?’
She marvelled at his willingness to give her this power. They were in public, for God’s sake. She was damn tempted to make him come. To watch him fall apart under her hands the way he made her fall apart and know she’d done it to him.
Instead, she leaned over and, for the first time since they’d met, she initiated a kiss. She brushed her lips over his, taking in the textures and the sweet, minty taste of his lips before delicately tracing them with her tongue. He opened to her readily and their tongues began a lazy dance.
She brought her hands up to his chest, resting her palms on him and marvelling at the fierceness and tempo of his heartbeat. Her own was going a mile a minute. Connor didn’t repeat his mistake of the picnic. His hands stayed away from her neck, though he turned to face her as he deepened the kiss. One hand rested on her hip and lightly stroked her in tandem to the rhythmic invasion of his tongue in her mouth.
Before she could protest again about being in public – not that she wanted to protest – Connor brushed his hand up along her midriff and cupped her breast, lightly massaging before squeezing her nipple. She gasped into his mouth and he gentled his touch, cupping her breast and stroking his thumb over the distended tip.
‘Connor –’ She broke the kiss, trying to marshal her thoughts though she had no real idea of what she wanted to say; she was awash in sensations.
‘I want you.’ He squeezed her nipple again. ‘Bad. I want to fuck you tonight. We made love before and I want that too, but tonight … tonight I want to fuck you. I want you on your knees with my cock in your mouth. I want you on top of me, riding my dick like there’s no tomorrow.’ His hand left her breast and cupped her chin gently. ‘You drive me crazy, Bridget.’
Overwhelmed and damn near panting, Bridget couldn’t manage so much as a “damn, that was hot!”
Fortunately, she was saved from having to respond by their server showing up to take their order.
The janitor! She was screwing the fucking janitor! The gall of that bitch. She’d fuck the janitor but she treated him like he was less than dirt under her shoes. Who the fuck did she think she was?
And who the fuck did he think he was? Whittier saw him just about every day. Emptying his trash. That was where he belonged, not reaching for what belonged to Dale. He had no right to put his hands on what was his.
Whittier threw back the scotch he’d previously been savouring and considered what he’d just seen. Luna Bella was not an establishment he usually frequented, but this was where the theatre’s board had decided to hold their annual dinner. They’d rented a private room at the restaurant to which they’d all adjourned after the screening of a local filmmaker’s documentary on homeless children.
Boring didn’t quite cover the depth of distaste he had for both the board and their pretentious little pack of upstart creatives who all thought they were going to be the next Coppola. But he had a standing to uphold in this community. Appearances were important to his end game.
Luna Bella was across the street from the theatre, making it convenient. Personally, he found the food plebeian compared to what he was used to. He preferred Gia – River Rock’s finest restaurant. Their chef had a Michelin star as well as a James Beard Award. His steak au poivre melted in your mouth. The best thing on the menu at Luna Bella was the Ossobuco, and that was like comparing a Rolls-Royce to a Lexus. No one would deny that the Lexus was a perfectly acceptable car, but it couldn’t compare with the elegance and sheer magnificence of the Rolls.
By the time the food was finished, he’d grown claustrophobic from the hot air the board members were throwing around; each person’s ego fighting for space. He’d followed the waitress who’d been tossing inviting glances his way. He’d figured he’d get her number and maybe even a quick one. She’d headed toward the kitchen and he’d followed. Anything to liven this night up.
Instead, he’d seen Bridget and the motherfucking janitor going at each other like rabbits. His hands had been all over her and hers had been between his legs. That bitch acted like she was so fucking pristine and here she was out in public acting like a total whore.
There was no way he was letting her off the hook now. He’d considered it. He hated that she looked at him with fear. Hated that he felt compelled to coerce and manipulate her. She, of all the women he’d dealt with, was the one he wanted to come to him freely. And, of all the women he’d dealt with, she was the one who rejected him out of hand.
No more. No fucking more.
He’d have her. He’d have her regardless of what she wanted.
He thought of her fighting him. Crying. Begging. Pleading. She’d be sublime in her pain.
His dick hardened.
‘You know,’ a soft voice whispered in his ear, ‘I could help you with that.’
Whittier looked into the heavily made-up eyes of the waitress he’d followed before. She was staring at his erection, her eyes hot with lust.
The rest of the party was so engrossed in trying to one up each other that no one was paying any attention to them. He set his glass on the table and ran his hand up her stockinged leg. He cupped her ass under her skirt. Thong and garters. Easy access.
‘Yes, you can.’ He stood and gestured for her to lead the way.
Later, as he pounded into her from behind in the employee bathroom, he imagined she had red hair and green eyes.
She was going to kill him. Right there in the moment. He would die with the worst damn hard-on and everyone would know that he’d bought it trying to keep his hands off the sexiest woman he’d ever met. He knew he had to keep it together or he was going to wreck everything.
She’d finally trusted him enough to start breaking down her walls and he wasn’t going to wreck it by behaving like an animal. He’d damn near jumped her in the restaurant, but fortunately he’d managed to stop himself. He still had to tread carefully with her. The barrier was falling, just a little, but it was a start.
He’d almost blown it in the alley. Literally and figuratively. He’d been ready to come then too. But going down on her in an alley was no way to get her to come to grips with her sexuality. It would read as sleazy even if it wasn’t meant that way.
With her innate sexiness, she made it so hard for him to stay focused. All she had to do was speak in that low, silky drawl and his cock was standing at attention, begging for her lips to do something other than speak. He’d been serious, he’d been willing to come in his pants right there for her. Anything to keep her hands on him. He hadn’t been able to keep from touching her at the restaurant and now, as they walked the few blocks from Luna Bella to her house, he couldn’t keep his eyes off her.
The gold silk dress she wore clung to all the right spots, accentuating her full, soft curves. The stiletto heels added height and made her legs seem endless while giving a sway to her walk that mesmerised him. Tendrils of coppery hair floated around her neck despite the attempt to wrangle the curls on top of her head, and a single strand of pearls circled her neck. She was a fantasy. A pin-up mixed with Hollywood starlet, and if he thought he’d come away with both his balls intact, he’d press her up against the nearest wall, find out exactly what she had on under that silk, and bury his cock deep inside her. But you didn’t treat a woman like Bridget with that kind of abandon. Not yet anyway. Her past required deference.
One day, if he handled this right, there’d be no barriers between them and their sexual relationship would be about exploration, not healing. Until then though, she had to be handled gently and with care.
Not that his dick gave a flying damn. He shuddered as it came to life at the thought of being inside Bridget. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep his control so rigidly in check. Cold showers weren’t cutting it any more. He loved the progress they’d made. Loved that she allowed him to make love to her, but tonight he wanted her in a way that cut through his control like a hot knife through butter.
‘You haven’t heard a word I’ve said, have you?’ Bridget was smiling up at him. Her emerald eyes sparkled with mirth in the moonlight.
