She stood behind him now with her lips parted and cheeks flushed, watching him stroke himself off like a hormonal teenager. It shouldn’t have made him hotter, not when he didn’t fully understand the problems she obviously had knocking around inside her beautiful head. He should stop now and make her explain, tell her she couldn’t touch him anymore until he knew what she was going through. But there wasn’t any turning back. Not right now, not with his cock heavy in his hand, ready to erupt.
In the mirror, he could see her fingers smoothing against each other, as if she were imagining what it would feel like to replace his hand with her own.
Jesus. He liked having her watch. If her expression had been any different, it might have been another story. The look of wonder, the renewal of arousal that transformed her as she came slowly closer, had him clenching his teeth to prolong the moment. Fuck, though, it hurt. The front of her panties were wet from riding him until she came. Her flat stomach peeked out under the edge of her shirt, reminding him once again how crazy he was to yank it up and see what she hid underneath. At the same time, she looked like an innocent who’d stumbled upon something very, very bad happening and God, it made him want to corrupt her even more. Sick. I’m sick. His balls drew up tight…the tingling began at the base of his spine…
“You should leave,” Connor grated, squeezing his eyes closed. Christ, any minute now…he couldn’t wait any longer. Looking at her, knowing he couldn’t touch her, was killing him. At the same time, his mind was projecting images in a desperate attempt to send him over the edge and find relief. Erin straddling his face, hands cuffed behind her back. Erin’s eyes going blind, ankles around her ears, as drove into her like a madman. “Go, Erin.”
He didn’t hear her move. One second she was standing at the door, the next she was standing on the rim of his bathtub, just beside his left shoulder. Closer. Her tits were eye level and it took every ounce of self-control inside him not to suck them into his mouth, right through her T-shirt. A tiny moan dropped from her lips as she leaned close, watching his hand work his stiff cock. She placed her open lips on his neck and dragged them higher, where she licked at his ear.
“What are you doing?” he demanded. Do it again.
“What feels right,” she whispered, stroking his fingers over his chest. “Tell me what you’re thinking about. Is it me?”
“Of course,” he shouted. “You don’t want to know any more than that.”
“Yes, I do.” She lightly scraped her fingernails down his back, and he growled. “I want to know what I’m missing out on. Tell me.”
Connor broke away, allowing them both to suck in oxygen. “Stay. I’m sorry. Stay.” He bent his knees to bring them eye to eye. His spoke of torture, but he was trying to hide it. “Look at me. I can handle this. I want you here. Don’t leave.”
“I don’t know if I can handle it,” she whispered.
His heavy breaths ceased. “What do you mean?”
She drew out a lighter from her back pocket and ignited the flame. It cleared her head a little, allowing her to search for the right words. Words that wouldn’t sound crazy. “I like touching you. It makes me feel really…good. And there isn’t a whole lot that makes me feel good, you know?” Her throat closed up. “I wish you could touch me, too. I don’t think I can stay here knowing I’m hurting you by making myself feel good…and I don’t think I can stop touching you. It feels like a must.”
A flare of panic flashed across his face. “I shouldn’t have said what I did earlier. You just caught me off guard.” He massaged his forehead with four fingers. “Did I scare you? Is that why you’re really leaving?”
“No.” She shook her head. “No.”
“Okay. Jesus. Okay.” He was silent a moment, but gears were turning behind his eyes. “You need to touch me and I need you to stay. Let’s give each other what we need. All right?”
Why was this so damn confusing? She’d only met this man yesterday and they were already tangled up [Edc1] in her web of fucked-up [Edc2] issues. He should want to be clear of her, shouldn’t he? No one else had ever bothered with her this long before. “Why? Why do you need me to stay? I—”
“I won’t rest,” he growled. “I’ll think about you somewhere, scared like you were last night, and I’ll go fucking crazy.”
Her heart lurched, dislodging her pride. “I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time. If the only reason you want me here is to play nursemaid to the crazy girl, that’s not going to work for me.”
“You know there’s more to it. You know.” He visibly centered himself with a deep breath, appearing to debate with himself. “I’ve got my own skeletons, Erin. They don’t rattle so much when you’re around. Your touching me…it makes me hot. But it soothes elsewhere.”
She knew her expression was pathetically hopeful, but couldn’t find a single shit to give. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he repeated. “I’m not going to lie, Erin. Yes, I want to sleep with you like hell. But only if it’s healthy. Would you trust me enough to go slow? A little at a time?”
Her pulse hammered out of control. “You touching me?”
Connor watched her closely. “When you’re ready. Not before. Never before.”
This is where she should climb down the fire escape and vamoose toward the street. A weight pressed down on her rib cage, making it difficult to draw a breath. It felt like the point of no return. But Connor’s eyes grounded her.
Safe. He’s safe.
“Okay, baby. Slow.”
His body drained of tension. “Thank you.” He leaned in and brushed their lips together, gently, reverently. “First, we talk.”
Meet Ex- Navy Seal Connor in this unconventional romance!
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Never start a fire you can't control...
Connor Bannon is supposed to be dead. Dishonorably discharged from the Navy SEALs, he's spent the last two years working as a street enforcer in Brooklyn for his cousin's crime ring. Through a twist of fate, he's now in Chicago, working undercover to bust criminals. But when a cute little arsonist joins the team-all combat boots, tiny jean shorts, and hot-pink hair-Connor's notorious iron control slips.
Erin "she's getting away" O'Dea knows two things. She hates authority. And... Nope, that's it. When she's forced to operate on the "right" side of the law, her fear of being confined and controlled blazes to the surface. The last thing she expects is a control freak like Connor to soothe her when she needs it most. Worse, something behind the sexy ex-soldier's eyes ignites a dangerous inferno of desire. One that invites Erin to play with fire. And one that could get them both killed...
About the Author:
Thank you for your interest in my books! I'm Tessa and I live in the crazy, loud, overcrowded borough of Brooklyn, New York. I love it here. This city is a constant source of inspiration, which is why I've decided to set my most recent books in the Line of Duty Series here.
I moved to New York when I was eighteen, the day after I graduated high school. Threw my suitcase in the back of a Chevrolet Cavalier and drove across the country to find my adventure. I'm still finding it, little by little.Thank you for being a part of it.