Standing in the Shadows (34 page)

"That's true. I don't own you. But I want you so bad. I've had a hard-on for you ever since you were jailbait. I want to know everything you do, every thought you mink. I want to have sex with you in every way possible. I'm obsessed with you, Erin Riggs, and I cannot stand the thought of you with another man. It makes me feel—"

…
crazy

He swallowed the word back, his chest squeezing painfully. "I just want you all for myself." He closed his eyes. "Please."

Erin shivered, and dropped a soothing kiss on his bare shoulder. "Try to calm down, Connor," she murmured. "You're so intense."

"Oh, God, you have no idea." He pressed his face against her wet hair and tried to keep his mouth shut. Anything he said could be used to incriminate him. He had never felt so desperate and out of control. At least not as an adult.

The silence was driving him nuts. "How's that for going out on a limb?" His voice came out harsh and taunting in spite of his best efforts. "Did I make myself vulnerable enough to suit you?"

Her mouth tightened. She lifted her chin. "Don't mock me."

Enough talk. He would be smarter to use his tongue for something more constructive than digging holes for himself to fall into. She was so fragrant and soft and naked. He pushed her against the wall and sank to his knees. She tried to push his face away, but the element of surprise worked in his favor.

He slid his hand up the creamy skin between her quivering thighs, and forced them apart. She was saying something to him, but once he had slid his tongue into that thatch of silky wet fur, once he'd sought out the enticing secret slit of her vulva, he was long beyond the reach of language. He savored the liquid rush of her pleasure against his mouth, dizzy with relief. At least he had this card to play, and he would make the most of it. He thrust his tongue deep into that hidden pool of delicious liquid bliss and suckled his way slowly, lovingly up her delicate folds, lapping and licking until he held her swollen clit between his teeth. He could wallow with his face between her beautiful thighs forever. In a state of perfect grace.

He shifted his hand and slid two of his fingers inside her, seeking the other hot spot he had found inside her clinging sheath. He pressed it while he fluttered his tongue across her clit, feeling, sensing, listening with his whole self, casting out that wide, soft net in his head that encompassed her every reaction, her every breath and shiver and moan, until he sensed how and where to give her what she needed. Just that extra, insistent push of sensual pressure, and ah. Yes.

Jesus,
yes
.

He held her up while it tore though her, a throbbing earthquake. He drank it all in, with his mouth and his tongue and his hands, loving every pulsing second of it. Her knees buckled. He gentry controlled her descent as she slid down against the paneling until her bottom hit the floor, his fingers still thrust deep. Eyes closed, face rosy pink, legs splayed wide, his hand still shoved deep inside her cunt.

She shivered, her eyes fluttering open. She looked down at his hand, up into his eyes. He covered her mouth with coaxing kisses. "You still haven't given me an answer," he said. "About being exclusive."

Her pink tongue flicked across her lips. She whimpered and squirmed as his fingers thrust inside her. "Not fair," she whispered.

"Whatever it takes." He kissed her again, caressing her quivering sex. "So? Are you my woman, or not?"

She seized his wrist and pulled his hand out of her body, clasping it tightly in hers. "Do not manipulate me," she said. "Just
ask
me."

"OK." He braced himself. "I'm asking."

She looked straight into his eyes. "I don't want anyone but you," she said. "I never have."

He was afraid to breathe. Their fingers were a damp, tight, clutching knot, like his heart. "That's good to know, sweetheart," he said cautiously. "Uh, does that mean we're exclusive?"

Her lips twitched at his insistence. "Yes."

"You're sure?" he demanded.

Her sweet smile widened. "What do I have to do to convince you?"

He felt ridiculous for needing so much reassurance. "Send me a singing telegram," he suggested.

He was rewarded by a helpless snort of laughter that was so cute, it made his heart twist. "You certainly know how to press your point."

"I thought it was your points I was pressing," he offered.

That touched off another peal of giggles. "Oh, no. Oh, dear. Connor, please. That was really bad."

"But you handed it right to me," he protested. "What could I do?"

He pulled her closer. He felt so nervous and scared. This was how he wanted her, happy and laughing. Soft and trusting in his arms. He wasn't going to achieve that by throwing his weight around, spewing ironclad orders and ultimatums right and left, but whenever he felt threatened, that's what he did. Every goddamn time.

He pulled her tighter, so her soft laughter would vibrate through his body and push the aching cold away.

Connor scooped her up off the ground and deposited her on the rumpled cot. She lay there, still giggling, until she saw him rip open a foil packet, and smooth a condom over his erect penis.

She sat bolt upright "Good God, Connor! This is getting ridiculous. What do you think you're doing?"

"Sealing our bargain," he told her.

He made her heart race when he looked at her like that, his beautiful body naked, his tawny mane long and loose around his shoulders, his hungry eyes. And that hot, sexy, ruthless smile.

He scooped up her dangling legs and draped them over his elbows, nudging the tip of himself gently between her slick folds. He forced his way inside her with one long, relentless push. "I've never had sex with a woman whom I've promised to be faithful to," he said. "Never, in my whole life. It's a big deal."

She dug her fingers into his shoulders and tried to puzzle out the significance of his words. He rocked against her, lazy and slow, angling himself expertly to please her.

"I needed to see how it felt," he added.

"Oh," she murmured. "And how does it feel?"

"Fucking awesome," he said. "To be inside you, and look into your face and think, this is my woman. And oh, God. She is so beautiful."

She wanted to tell him that she loved him, that her heart was all his, forever. Something squeezed her throat shut.

Her father's face floated in her mind, the last time she had seen it, hard with grief and guilt. Connor, leaning on his blood-spattered cane. Vengeance and violence. She couldn't shake free of them, but Connor was prying her heart open by sheer brute force. She couldn't resist him.

She had to hold something back, just some tiny crumb of herself. A corner that was locked up tight and secret and all hers.

He stopped, and held himself motionless above her. "What is it? What are you thinking?"

It took all her nerve to meet his eyes. "I… um, nothing."

"Bullshit. Tell me."

She closed her eyes. There was no point in lying to him, but at least she could tell him a different truth. "I was just thinking…"

"Yeah?" His eyes were keen and sharp on her face. "And?"

"Of how it feels," she said. "To have you inside me, all over me, and know that you're mine. My man."

"And how does it feel?"

She told him the naked truth. "It feels fucking awesome."

Her own words were the magic key that released her. She came apart around him in a shuddering wave of complete surrender. She could hold nothing back. He held her against him so tightly, his arms shook. "No going back, Erin," he said hoarsely.

She shook her head. "No."

She drifted into a doze. He extricated himself, covered her with the quilt, and went padding about her apartment. When she opened her eyes, he had showered and shaved and pulled on his jeans. He was bent over her tiny refrigerator. He looked dismayed.

He smiled to find her awake. "You've got nothing to eat in this place," he said. "I can't keep up this level of sustained sexual activity without regular feeding."

She giggled. "Sorry."

He sauntered over to the bed and lifted a hank of his wet hair. "I used some of your conditioner," he said. "Smells nice."

"Good for you, Connor. You're making progress," she said. "Where did you get all this energy?"

"I'm totally high. Think of it. I got Erin, the quintessential good girl, to say the f-word, and it isn't even ten o'clock in the morning yet. Who knows what I might get her to do by nightfall?"

She waggled her finger at him. "Don't get any more ideas, you sex-crazed stud. I'm done for awhile."

"Oh, come on," he wheedled. "You're a bad girl now, remember? You've got to get used to excess, and I'm just the guy to help you do it."

She batted his roving hand away and sat up. "Enough."

"And speaking of enough," he said. "Now that we're exclusive, and seeing as how you seem to have something against condoms, you'd better go see your doctor and come up with something you like better. Because I'm tired of walking a tightrope every time we have sex."

Her eyes widened. "But Connor. You're so good at it. And it's so much fun to watch. All that concentration."

"I'm not a goddamn dancing bear," he said sourly. "It would be nice to just relax and have some fun. From here on out, it's condoms until you come up with a better solution on your own. And that's final."

She hugged herself with a shiver of mock rapture. "Oh, I love it when you're stern and masterful. It's such a turn-on. Do it again, Connor. Give me another ultimatum, quick."

"Stop it," he growled. His eyes dragged over the length of her body, and his gaze became thoughtful. "Unless, of course, you want to have my baby," he said. "Just for the record, that would be fine with me, Erin. More than fine. The timing would be kind of weird, but—"

"I'll go to the doctor. I'll take care of it. I promise." She shivered with a blend of panic and heady, toe-curling excitement. "Let's not rush ahead of ourselves, OK?"

He smiled. "I'm not ahead of myself at all."

"It's better to stay focused," she babbled. "I, uh, have too many things to do today to even think about—"

"Whatever you say, babe. What things do you have to do?"

She took one look at the uncompromising set of his jaw, and sighed. "Oh, dear. You're going to insist on escorting me everywhere?"

"Get used to it," he said. "Tell me what we need to do today."

She flopped back down onto the bed and thought about it. "Well, I have to get my cat back from my friend Tonia, and she'll be furious with me—the cat, not Tonia—so that'll involve lap time and kitty treats. I need to do some research for the Mueller report. Oh, and I need to sign up at some more temp agencies, too. But mostly, I need to track down my sister and check on Mom."

He nodded. "I'll call Sean for a progress report on the Cindy situation, but I can't handle Sean on an empty stomach. OK… cat, sister, mom. What else is on our agenda?"

He was so willing to take it all onto his shoulders. His generosity made her heart go all gooey. "Connor, you're a sweetheart, but these are my problems, not yours, and they're not pretty," she said gently. "Please don't think that just because we're involved—"