Between Love and Loyalty

Chapter 1-3

A quiet chuckle slipped past his lips. “No. I date. But I’ve been busy with jobs lately and relationships didn’t pan out. But to answer your question, I read. It’s a habit I picked up a long time ago and held onto.”

“What do you like to read?”

“A little of everything. I usually read a couple of books at a time. I like thrillers, something with a twist. For nonfiction, I prefer stuff written by journalists as opposed to the celebrity crap.” He pointed to a house. “That’s me.”

He lived really close. No wonder he didn’t bother driving.

He jingled his keys in his hand before unlocking the door. “Before we go in, I should warn you it’s still under construction. I bought it as fixer-upper, so it’s pretty bare.”

“Does your bedroom consist of a sleeping bag on the floor and a milk crate for a chair?” God, she hoped not. She wasn’t feeling that adventurous.

“Not quite.” He swung the door open and flicked on a light. Barking echoed throughout the first floor. “That’s just Max. He’s harmless.”

Oh, man. She was a total sucker for a guy with a dog. A big beast came running into what should’ve been the living room. Connor greeted his dog and Fiona assessed the situation. There was nothing. No furniture, no TV, not even a rug. Everything was bare.

Connor mumbled something and said he’d be right back. She took a few more steps into the house. The room was huge, big enough to be both a living room and a dining room, but she began to question if he really even lived here.

He returned, his footsteps echoing in the empty space. “Sorry, Max had to go out. I warned you it was empty. I’ve already finished the upstairs, though. That’s where I spend my time.”

He took his coat from her and hung it on a hook near the door. “Come on, I’ll give you the grand tour.”

Beyond the living room/dining room combo was the kitchen where Max scratched at the back door. When Connor let him back in he greeted Fiona by trying to jump on her.

“Down, Max. Sorry, he gets excited,” Connor said while tugging at Max’s collar.

“Too bad every man I meet doesn’t get excited like that.”

Max settled next to Connor’s legs and Connor slid his gaze back up to meet hers. “I imagine men get plenty excited around you.”

He stepped over his dog and backed Fiona against the wall. His lips were cold from the walk, but his skin was warm as his hand grazed her cheek on its way to cradle her neck. He might not be much of a talker, but Connor was a damn good kisser. His fingers tangled in her hair and brought her head back. He licked her neck and bit the sensitive flesh causing sparks to zoom through every nerve. Her blood raced and she pressed her body into his.

“Tour can wait,” he said against her heated skin. He pulled away, leaving her much colder than she expected. Grabbing her hand, he pulled her from the room and toward the stairs.

Max’s nails clicked on the hardwood floor as he followed. “Max,” Connor called out over his shoulder, “stay.”

Based on the roughness in his voice, he was as turned on as she was. He took the stairs two at a time; luckily, her legs were long enough to keep up with him. He maneuvered her through the dark and she couldn’t see anything. At least he wasn’t a messy guy, or they’d be tripping over stuff.

Connor released her hand, leaving her standing in the dark, and switched on a small bedside lamp. The glow illuminated the room enough to show that he spent time here. It looked like he combined two rooms to make this one big suite. The light wasn’t bright enough to fill the room, but the king size bed stood only a couple of feet in front of her and that was all she needed to see.

She kicked off her shoes and pulled her shirt over her head. Connor just stared.

“Something wrong?”

His face looked a little strained, and for a minute she thought maybe he didn’t like an assertive woman, in which case, she should leave now.

“Uh-uh,” was his only response. He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her to him, his rough hands on her waist. He planted a kiss just above her b*a between her breasts while his hands, warm and calloused, rubbed across her skin above her jeans. She reached for the button on her pants, but he pulled her hands away.

He trailed kisses down her torso and his fingers skimmed beneath her waistband. Her knees weakened at his touch, so she used his shoulders for balance. His broad, hard-muscled shoulders proved to be excellent anchors as he slid her jeans and panties down her legs. When the pants were gone, she reached around and unclasped her b*a, discarding it along with everything else. She stood n***d in front of Connor while he was still fully clothed.

He inhaled deeply and stood. By the time she blinked, his shirt had joined hers and he’d turned her toward the bed. She barely had a chance to ogle his chest before he pushed her down on the bed and covered her body with his. Connor continued his assault of her senses by kissing and stroking her.

The rough denim of his jeans matched the rasp of his hands on her body. “You’re so soft,” he whispered.

He wasn’t soft—not at all, and she loved every delicious hard plane and muscle that pressed into her. His fingers stroked her and she moaned. He clamped his teeth gently on her n****e. If she didn’t know better, she’d think the man had eight arms because of the diversity of sensual pleasure erupting all over her body as he explored. Her blood raced and she writhed beneath his hands.

“Close, aren’t you, Fiona?”

She couldn’t speak, couldn’t even open her eyes, so she nodded and bucked her hips up. He held her close, trying to keep her still. The pressure built and her muscles clenched.

Then suddenly, he was gone.

She wanted to whimper. She eased her eyelids up and saw an evil grin on Connor’s face.

“I’m coming back.” He pushed his jeans down his hips and donned a c****m. Leaning back over her, he whispered in her ear, his voice low and husky, “I want to be inside you when you come.”

She shuddered knowing release was so close. She spread her thighs wide to accommodate his body. He slid inside her, filling and stretching her. Her muscles relaxed a fraction, but then Connor started to move. Tension skyrocketed in her body, coiling in her center, waiting to explode.

Connor propped himself on his forearms beside her head. Their breath mingled as their bodies collided. He felt so good. She wasn’t ready to let go; she wanted to ride the wave a little longer. Connor’s pace picked up and he shifted, pulling back.

Cool air breezed in the space between them. Connor hooked an arm under her knee, opening her further. Then he touched her with his thumb and she was gone. Every muscle tightened and stars burst behind her closed lids. She might’ve screamed out his name.

As her shudders and spasms slowed, Connor stopped and held her. His body was rigid, so she knew he hadn’t finished, but he didn’t move. She tried to shift, to thrust, but he held her down. His heavy breaths heaved from his chest and she knew he was trying to prolong this every bit as much as she’d tried.

He’d toyed with her, so it was only fair that she return the favor.