by Tessa Bailey
Polly leaned forward. “Tomorrow?”
“Yeah.” Sera took a shaky sip of her coffee. “I saw this coming. He needs to know we’re permanent and there’s nothing I can say to reassure him. It has to be everything. Words, papers. Rings. I want that, too. I want him forever. It’s just all so fast and I…I just wish my mother were around to talk it out with.” She frowned. “So strange, since we weren’t even close.”
Erin shook the weird urge to put her arms around Sera. Too risky if she tried to hug her back. Which led to thoughts of Connor. Of his reaction when she tried to move out. How he’d begged her to come home tonight. She understood his passionate nature, because it existed inside her as well. What was he doing right now? Was he staring at the door waiting for her to walk through it? Thinking of him made every part of her ache, so she focused on Sera. “Your family isn’t the one marrying him. You are.” When Sera looked at her thoughtfully, Erin shifted on the plastic seat. “Who’s going to be the witness?”
“Connor.” Sera watched her closely. “Bowen asked him this morning.”
“Oh.”
Sera nodded toward Polly, but kept her eyes trained on Erin. “She implied you have man troubles, too. I guess I’ve been distracted by Bowen and the new job. Is it Connor?”
Uncomfortable with the turn the conversation had taken, straight into girl chat, Erin shrugged. “He buys me orange juice.”
Polly snorted. “Don’t make him work for it or anything.”
“Oh, he’s working for it,” she muttered. “Believe me.”
Sera stirred another packet of sugar into her coffee. “We spent some time together back in Brooklyn. When I was undercover.”
Every muscle in Erin’s body went stiff, her pulse skittering. Jealousy. Thick and humid, like the lick of a flame. “What do you mean by time?”
“He was shot while I was undercover. His crew wouldn’t take him to the hospital, knowing it would draw attention.” She sighed after a sip of coffee. “So I nursed him back to health.”
Shot in Brooklyn? Hadn’t he told her he’d gotten the wound overseas? No, she realized. He’d distracted her without giving an actual answer, damn him. Polarized by the image of Connor with blood pouring from his strong body fought against jealousy that still burned hot. She didn’t like the idea of any woman’s hands on him. It should have been her taking care of him. No one else. No one else ever again.
The need to see him whole and powerful made her want to sprint out of Denny’s at full speed, but a dose of anger kept her rooted to the seat. “Who shot him? I’d like to know now-ish, please.”
Sera gave her a sympathetic look. “We don’t know. If it makes you feel better, the bullet was meant for someone else. He just got in the way.”
Rage clawed at her. This is how he feels about my stepfather being out there, walking around free. Dammit. She had no place to channel the anger. It needed somewhere to go. “Did something happen between you two?” The question shot from her mouth like a cannon. Wouldn’t be contained. She’d come to this stupid restaurant to clear her head, but it felt ready to burst now.
“You might want to lie,” Polly said to Sera.
“Nothing ever happened. Ever. He’s like a brother.” Sera shook her head. “It was always Bowen for me. He’s…”
“What?” Erin asked without looking at her.
“Bowen is my family.” Sera’s eyes filled with tears. “Excuse me. I have to go.”
Erin scooted out of the booth quickly before Sera could touch her. She and Polly watched in silence as Sera jogged down the restaurant aisle and out the door. Going to her man. It was so obvious. Exactly like Erin needed to do. She needed to see Connor. With the image of him shot still fresh in her mind, the day she’d spent away from him felt criminal. For people like them, time was precious and she was squandering it. Like a coward.
She wouldn’t be a coward anymore.
Touching might be painful for her. But the pain would prove she was real. It would prove that despite what she’d been through, she’d come out on the other side. Battle-scarred, but alive. She never felt more alive than when she was touching Connor. If she took a leap of faith, if she let him touch her, would it magnify that feeling or crush it?
Only one way to find out.
“I have to go, too.”
“Aaand I have my table back.” Polly flickered a serious glance at her. “Hey, uh…good luck.”
“Thanks.”
She would need it.
Chapter Fourteen
For what seemed like the hundredth time that hour, Connor paused in his research, swearing he heard booted footsteps coming down the hall. After a few seconds of hopeful silence, he went back to reading the web page he’d pulled up on his laptop screen and resumed scribbling notes. At first, he’d started researching Erin’s condition as a way to distract himself. If he could focus on something else, maybe he’d have a chance in hell of staying put. Not slamming out of the apartment to walk the streets shouting for her like a goddamn lunatic. At least, that’s how it had started.
About five minutes after typing “fear of being touched” into the search engine, he’d realized this was where his time could be better spent. Erin had said she would come home, and he had to trust her on that. He’d abused her trust, albeit on accident, and now he would atone. Based on what he’d learned since sitting down in front of the laptop, he had a lot of fucking atoning to do. Yeah, his using her condition against her might have been inadvertent, but it didn’t excuse his withholding himself. She’d found a way to ease her demons and he’d yanked it away. Remembering the way he’d turned her away last night made him sick to his stomach. An empty triumph that had only succeeded in pushing her away after they’d taken two steps forward. After she’d charged straight at him and held him, only seconds having passed since he’d shattered a window with his fist.
It had felt so good, just to regain some vestige of control after losing it at the parking structure, but it hadn’t been worth it. Not even close. He doubted Erin even knew what she was dealing with. Haphephobia. The fear of being touched that often presented itself after a traumatic event. Touch from another human being often felt like fire burning the sufferer’s skin. The fact that she got pleasure from contact with his body was a rare miracle and he’d squandered it. God, if he could go back to last night, he’d let her hand wring every ounce of pleasure from his body and beg for more. He’d been a selfish motherfucker.
So he couldn’t touch her with his hands. Yet. Would he trade the connection he had with Erin for someone who allowed his touch, but didn’t make him feel anything? No way in hell. Now he had to prove that to her. If it meant setting aside his overwhelming compulsion to pin her down and put his mark on her, if it meant putting himself through torture by going slow, he would do it. A significant factor in his thirst for control came from satisfying the woman. For the first time ever, the woman was his woman. Knowing he was the only one Erin could stand to touch might just be the most powerful piece of control he’d ever experienced. Too bad it had taken her almost walking out on him twice to figure it out. Now that he knew, his veins were pumped full of might.
Touch me, woman. If she walked in the door right now, he just might shout it at her.
But not tonight. Tonight they would talk. If a traumatic event had led to her phobia, he wanted to know every last detail, even if it might send him off on a rampage to avenge her. At least it would be out in the open. At least he would know what memories they needed to conquer. After he knew the full scope of what they were dealing with, he would take the steps to ensure her stepfather couldn’t hurt her. When Erin had run out on him this morning, he’d been restless with the urge to do something proactive to help her, but he had nothing to go on yet. So he’d settled for research. For now.
Footsteps.
Connor pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to ignore the sound. It was just his imagination. She would come home when she was ready. He couldn’t conjure her up by his will
alone.
When the door opened, his hand clenched so tight that the pencil between his fingers snapped. She stood outlined in the entrance looking so heartbreakingly stunning, he couldn’t form words. Her eyes were heavy with so many emotions, he couldn’t capture them all before she was striding toward him. Sex pounded in his ears. There was no other description for it. Her hips snapped side to side with every step, breasts swaying beneath her shirt. Erin always threw off sexual energy in waves, but she’d turned it up, daring him not to look at her tight thighs, her exposed belly, her parted mouth.
Talk to her. You have to talk. Out of self-preservation, Connor stood and started to put some distance between them. But he stopped. He couldn’t reject her touch again. He wouldn’t. Not when she needed it. Jesus, he needed it, too. With her standing in front of him, the desire was practically eating him alive, stripping him down until all that existed was her first touch. Where it would land. How it would wrangle the chaos inside, getting him hard at the same time. How she’d get aroused just by pressing her hands to his skin.
First, he needed to apologize. Needed her to know he understood what she went through on a daily basis now and things would be better. He’d make it so. “I’m sorry, Erin. I didn’t know.”
Her steps didn’t slow. “Know what?”
“What it feels like.” He swallowed the knot in his throat. “When someone touches your pretty skin. My frustration is nothing compared to that. Nothing. I’ll never use it to hurt you.”
She came to a stop, her booted toes bumping his. “But I was counting on it.”
Confusion hit him. “What?”
The seductive way she looked up at him through her eyelashes caused base lust to swirl in his gut. Christ. What the hell was her game? Keeping her gaze locked on him, Erin started to undo his belt buckle. “I want you to fuck me, Connor.”
His cock swelled so severely, he groaned through his teeth. “You don’t mean that. It’s too fast.” He watched her lower the zipper of his jeans and reach inside, palming his erection through his boxer briefs. Oh God, it felt so fucking perfect, it took all his willpower not to thrust shamelessly into her grip. “Put your hands all over me, Erin. I’ll never ask you to stop again. But I won’t hurt you. I refuse.”
“Please.” She went up on her toes and nipped at his neck. “I’m feeling brave. Don’t tell me no. I might not feel this brave tomorrow.”
“There’s no ru—” She found his mouth at the same time her hand started to stroke his cock, making his breath shudder out against her lips. “I don’t want you brave. I want you ready.”
“I’m both.” A small sound escaped her. “What if I lost you?”
That plea had the effect of an air horn going off. He pulled back from her next attempt at a kiss. “Jesus, Erin. You think you’ll lose me if we don’t fuck?”
“No.” Her eyes were mesmerizing, her voice velvet. “You were shot and I wasn’t there. Someone else fixed you when it should’ve been me. I need to feel you alive, moving inside me. Maybe it’s too late, but this is my way of healing you. Healing me. I need that, Connor. Give it to me.”
His insides felt razed, his chest wide open. Resisting wasn’t possible. She needed him, and he had only one goal in his life at that moment. Giving Erin what she needed. If someone tried to take that honor away from him, he would kill them where they stood. And sweet hell, he wanted to fuck her. His body was crying out for the comfort of her pussy, the sound of her moans. Minutes ago, he’d sworn he could live without sex as long as necessary, but now, as she reached into his underwear and squeezed his throbbing arousal, he couldn’t sustain his willpower. All he could hope was that he did this right. Took her in a way that wouldn’t cause her too much pain. Or any at all, if he could help it.
“Go face the window. Brace your hands on the frame.”
Giving the order felt good. No, not good. Amazing. But he needed to focus on her. Every breath, every movement would be important. He’d damaged her trust today, yet somehow he’d earned another chance and he wouldn’t screw it up. If she needed to stop, he’d force himself to stop even if it killed him. As Erin went to the fire escape window and did as he asked, Connor let himself feast on the sight of her. That skirt, the one that had driven him crazy in the meeting this morning, molded to her ass like wet leather. His hunger demanded he rip it off, bend her over, and thrust home, finally take what had felt like his since day one. No, she was his. His to keep and care for. He needed to keep himself in check.
If you want to rule her world, learn to rule yourself first.
Connor came up behind her and placed his hands just below hers on the window frame. He didn’t allow their bodies to touch. Not yet. He kept his gaze trained on her reflection as he breathed, slow and easy on her neck. Her eyes closed, head falling to the side, the tension visibly draining from her body. She pressed her ass into his lap, but he didn’t move, just let her circle those hips against his aching cock. No moving until she was ready.
“I’m not going to use my hands this time, so I need your help. I need you to wet your pussy up for my cock. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”
With a gasp, one of her hands dropped from the window to trail up her thigh. “How can you be inside me without touching me?”
Dammit, he wanted to touch her so fucking bad. “I’m going to give it to you right where you need it, Erin. When we’re finished getting you ready, you’ll be begging for inches. I’m going to give you ten. Right between your fuck-me thighs.” He growled as her hand disappeared underneath her skirt. His mouth watered at the thought of removing her shirt, baring her delicious, pink-tipped breasts, but he wouldn’t allow her naked in front of the window. There might be a method to his madness, but it didn’t involve passing strangers seeing what was meant for his eyes alone. “Pet yourself, Erin. That’s what I would do. I’d stroke your pussy with my fingers through that silk. Nice and gentle. I’d give it a soft kiss and apologize for the fact that I’m about to destroy it.”
The remaining hand she had braced on the window frame went white-knuckled, her lips falling open on a moan. “Connor…”
“Stroke yourself like you’ve been told. I need you ready.” He dipped his knees slightly and dragged his hard dick up between her ass cheeks on the way back up. “Feel that? You’re not ready for it yet. That’s a problem when I’m aching to fuck you. Isn’t it, sweetheart?”
“Y-yes.”
He picked up on the hesitation in her voice and forced himself to calm down. There was no way to control the words falling from his mouth, but his actions were his own. “Close your eyes and imagine it’s my hand reaching inside your underwear.” He hummed low in his throat. “Ah, Jesus, sweetheart. You’re drenched. That’s what happens, isn’t it? When you know you’re about to be filled up so damn tight. You’ll go up on your toes and tilt your ass trying to give me more room, but I’ll already have taken every last bit. That’ll only happen if you’re ready, Erin. Are you with me?”
“Yes.” Her body shuddered against his. “Tell me what to do.”
His knees nearly buckled under the weight of that permission. It was made ever stronger by the sureness in her voice. She was right there with him, facing her fear. It made him want to kiss every inch of her, tell her how proud she made him, but their mutual needs trumped everything at that moment. “Dip your middle finger inside, right where my cock is going to sink in, wide and deep. Use all that slickness to tease your clit. Tease it until your pussy starts to want more.”
In the window, he watched her hand move beneath her skirt, watched her thighs widen, her eyes glaze over. He couldn’t help but press his hard lap to her backside so he could feel every writhe of her hips, every tremor that went through her body. He breathed into her ear, telling her how good she felt, how pleased her wetness made him. “I want more,” she finally whimpered.
“How much more?” he demanded.
“All of it. You. Please.”
“Soon.” It was becoming exceedingly h
ard to keep his hands glued to the window frame. His mind screamed at him to lift her skirt and work his lust out. Fuck her until she couldn’t remember life before he was inside her body. Pull back. Don’t ruin it. “Three fingers, Erin. We’re almost there. Finger yourself like a good girl who’s about to be turned bad.” Very slowly, he removed his hands from the window frame and unbuckled his pants, desperate to free his heavy erection. Keeping his attention on Erin, he dispensed with his clothing in record time. The chance of someone seeing Erin naked through the window might make him see red, but he had no such modesty when it came to himself.
Erin sucked in a breath when he rose again, towering behind her in the glass wearing no clothes. Her thighs started to shake around her hand. “Connor, please.”
“Did you use all three fingers?”
“Yes. Yes.”
“Good.” He fisted his cock, pumped the hard flesh, and released a ragged groan that wouldn’t be stopped. Two days wasn’t usually that long a time for him to go without relief. But it was now. Now that Erin kept him aroused around the clock, just by existing. “Take off your panties and bend the fuck over.”
She moved quickly, dragging the silk down her legs and planting her hands on the sill. Her pussy peeked out at him from beneath the hem of her skirt, just a flash of pink, but it was enough to send hot, mind-blowing lust tearing through his system. It felt primal, ancient. I’m about to claim my woman.
He circled her clit with the head of his cock. “We both took the full physical to get this job. We’re both clean. Are you on the pill?”
“The shot.” A shaky exhale. “I’m on the shot.”
Wet, smooth female flesh. Erin’s flesh. “You want me bareback, beautiful?”
“Yes, please.”
Fuck yes. Nothing between them. He would have resented anything that kept him from feeling all of her. Connor inhaled deeply, grappling for control. Somewhere deep down, he found a reserve of restraint and delved into it. He led his cock to her entrance and encountered the source of her perfect heat for the first time. When she whimpered and arched her back, his careful discipline almost fled. He grabbed on to the final thread in his possession and thrust deep.