at the handcuffs and flogger and she was especially glad she’d managed to take his mind off using them on her.
At least, she’d thought she had, but he’d been edgy and surly all day. It was enough to put her on edge as well. Needless to say, she’d been grateful when she’d gotten the invite from Claire to dinner. Claire had specifically said to bring Connor along. Apparently, it was time to bring him into the fold.
In truth, it warmed her heart that her friends cared enough to do this. She hoped they’d all hit it off. Even though she was confident they would, that niggle of concern was always there until something was said and done.
‘I’m just tired,’ he said as he looked off into the distance.
‘Well, I did wear you out last night.’ She laughed and smiled at him, only to falter a bit at the strained smile he forced in return.
‘You certainly put the moves on.’ He squeezed her hand but his tone was distant. An icy worm turned circles in her belly.
She’d done everything she could think of last night to show him how good sex was between them without the need to venture into the shadowy areas she preferred to keep in the dark.
She understood his point. She truly did. And she’d be a complete liar to say she didn’t want to do exactly what he suggested. But why did they have to? Why was it becoming a point of contention?
No. She wasn’t backing down on this. They were good the way they were and there was no need to complicate things with questions that didn’t need answering. It was a small sacrifice in the long term.
He would just have to understand.
‘Do your friends know what I do?’ He sounded like he was choking on the words.
Instantly, she softened. Here she was being completely self-centred, thinking this had to be about her, and he was worried about being embarrassed or judged for his chosen occupation.
‘You mean that you’re a phenomenal artist, sexy and intelligent, and rock my world in bed?’
She took his hand and damn near crashed the car at the fury in his face.
‘Connor!’ she gasped, seeing him so angry. ‘Yes, I told them what you do. They don’t care. I would never disrespect you that way. I’m not ashamed of anything you do.’
He mussed his hair as he raked a hand through it and blew out a breath.
‘I apologise, Bridg.’ He kissed the back of her hand. ‘It’s not even that I really care about what they’ll think of me, but if anyone were to disrespect you over it, I think I’d get an assault charge.’
Her heart squeezed at his concern for her. That he’d come to her rescue the way he would was one of the reasons she loved him.
The breath in her chest dissolved at the realisation that she did love him. Not just that, she wanted to be with him. For good. The words leaped to her lips, only to die as she thought of Dean Whittier. She hadn’t told Connor and, frankly, didn’t plan to. His very willingness to jump to her rescue was exactly why she needed to finish this with the dean. No, only when the road was clear in front of them would she tell him. Until then, she’d have to show him.
She pulled the Mustang into the alley behind Claire and Evan’s brownstone. Turning off the engine, she faced Connor and took his face in her hands.
‘You have nothing to worry about, sugar. I have the best friends in the world and I have the best man in the world. The two can’t help but come together like peanut butter and jelly.’
He laughed at her deliberate corniness and she felt warm inside again at seeing him smile for real.
Leaning over the centre console, she kissed him gently, brushing her lips across his. She wanted to take him into her arms and make all of his pain from being rejected and judged go away. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she deepened the kiss, pouring all of her love and desire into this communion of lips and tongue.
When they finally parted both were breathless.
Connor smiled that crooked smile she loved and murmured, ‘Keep that up and I’ll be turning this car around, Ms Ross.’
She grinned. ‘Mmm, I like that idea. Except I don’t think Evan will stand for it.’ She nodded over his shoulder to where Evan was standing, arms crossed across his chest and one imperious eyebrow raised.
With a laugh, she wiped the lipstick from Connor’s mouth and got out of the car.
‘Why are you looking like a fearsome grizzly, Evan?’ She reached into the backseat for the wine she and Connor had brought as their contribution to dinner.
‘He hasn’t passed the test yet and he’s out here with his tongue down your throat. I’m supposed to be intimidating and scary, Bridget. Don’t you know anything?’ His voice was deliberately whiny.
Connor laughed and held out a hand, which Evan shook firmly. ‘It’s good to know she’s got other people looking out for her. She’s a handful.’
‘You figured that out, did you?’
‘Figured it out? She more or less hit me over the head with it the moment we met.’
‘Really?’ Evan grinned at Bridget. ‘I don’t think I’ve heard that story yet.’
‘Hey now,’ she called at them as they left her to follow, but she wasn’t truly upset. That her two favourite men had so obviously hit it off made her happy. This was going to be a good night.
‘Bridget says you’re an artist, Connor.’
Connor flinched. He never liked discussing his art. It was just too personal. He almost never showed it to anyone. Of all the women he’d dated, Bridget was only the second to ever see his work. It was too much like putting his soul on display and it made him feel too exposed.
‘I dabble, but I’m not a professional artist,’ he said, deflecting Claire’s question.
The night had gone better than he’d expected. Bridget’s friends were a welcoming group. Mona, he’d gotten to know pretty well from her cafe, but Claire and Evan made an intriguing couple. He got the impression there was more going on to that pairing than met the eye.
It was in the little touches and phrases between the two of them. She’d jokingly called him “sir” at one point and Evan’s reaction had been anything but joking. He’d looked like he wanted to throw his wife on the table and have his way with her, audience be damned.
Yeah, he had a feeling those two were definitely kinky.
Which only furthered his frustration where Bridget was concerned. Her best friend was obviously kinky so she’d had exposure to the idea of it not being wrong. He took a deep breath to dispel the frustration that flared at the memory of how Bridget had soundly shut him down the night before.
She’d pulled out all the stops to show him exactly how good sex could be without any true kink. And, had it actually been sincere and not an obvious manipulation, he would have been over the moon. But it hadn’t been sincere. She’d been detached and calculating throughout the entire experience.
It would have hurt less for her to just stick him with a knife straight through the chest.
‘Connor?’
‘Hmmm?’ He pulled his thoughts back to the present and focused on Mona.
‘Did you hear what I said?’
‘No, sorry. My mind wandered.’ He smiled.
‘I asked if you’d ever thought about showing your work?’
‘Oh.’ He shook his head. ‘No. It’s not something I’m really interested in.’
She smiled and nodded. ‘OK, but if you change your mind, I’d love to see some of your work. I feature a lot of local artists at the cafe.’
‘Yeah, I’ve noticed. That mixed media artist you’re showing now is really talented.’
‘Thank you.’ Irving, Mona’s date grinned.
‘Is it yours?’ Connor hadn’t taken note of the artist’s name.
He nodded. Connor had to admit, the last thing he would have expected this man to be was an artist. He was built like a linebacker, all broad shoulders and muscle. Connor had figured him for an athlete, not an artist.
‘Didn’t expect that, did you?’ Irving laughed a deep, gruff rumble. ‘Most people don’t. I get a lot of that look.’ He gestured at Connor’s face.
‘My apologies, man.’ Connor laughed with him. ‘You look like you should be scoring touchdowns.’
‘Well, that part helps with the ladies.’ He put his big paw of a hand on Mona’s shoulder and squeezed. Mona
