Mira Lyn Kelly - Just Say Yes

Four. She could totally handle four kisses.

Her body warmed at the knowledge it was time to pay the piper.

Parting her knees, he stepped between them. Leaned in close. Closer. And closer still until he’d braced one hand on the hardwood behind her and wrapped the other around her waist, leaving Megan no choice but to cling to his shoulders.

“One kiss, Connor,” she whispered, already feeling drugged by the sleepy bedroom scent of him.

“One kiss. Any way I want to take it.”

Breathless, she stared up into his eyes. “And you want it on the breakfast table.”

Letting out a low groan, Connor ran the bridge of his nose along the line of her jaw to below her ear. “God, yes. But I’ll settle for the kiss if it’s all you’re ready to give me.”

“Just the kiss.” She’d tried to keep the pleading quality from her tone, but she wanted to be reminded of the chemistry. The magic. What this was leading to if everything worked out. Or maybe all she wanted was Connor’s mouth on hers again.

That cocky smile cranked another notch, Connor’s lids dropping slumberously low. “We’ll see.”

And then she had it. The first soft rub of his lips against hers. The gentle, coaxing hint of the hot demand to come.

God, she wanted this to last.

CHAPTER TWELVE

“NO SEX?” JEFF COUGHED through the line.

Hands tightening on the wheel, knuckles going white, Connor hadn’t missed the undertones of amusement, no matter how his friend tried to cover it.

Glad someone thought it was funny.

“Yeah, I can’t believe it either. But Megan...” He took a slow breath, glancing out over the cliffs down to the ocean beyond before returning his attention to the road in front of him. He’d been so sure he had her with the daily make-out quota, because when they kissed—he slid a finger into his collar, freed the button and loosened his tie—they really kissed. But true to her word, Megan held strong. “She doesn’t want her judgment clouded while she figures things out.”

“Right. I get it. Blow-your-mind bedroom antics have a tendency to confuse priorities. Give meaning to the meaningless. Make things seem ‘special’ when really they aren’t. Smart.”

Connor ground down his molars, not exactly sure what response he’d wanted from Jeff...but certain it wasn’t this.

“So aside from the fact that your fresh-from-the-chapel wife finds you totally resistible, how’s the rest of married life treating you?”

“Good. No surprises.” Not really, anyway. “Megan’s more reserved than she came across our first night. And she’s somewhat preoccupied with making sure I know what I’m getting into. You know, listing faults in the name of full disclosure because she doesn’t want to risk me stumbling over some deal breaker once she’s committed.”

After a few seconds’ pause, the joking tone was gone. “Deal breakers?”

“Relax,” Connor assured. “Minor stuff. Quirks mostly.”

After all, he couldn’t care less if she wasn’t a stellar cook or had a tendency to go overboard when she picked up a new hobby. But he sure as hell cared whether the woman he married was going to be straight with him. And every time they were together, she showed him she was.

Even so, he wanted her confidence back. The faith she’d put in herself and him when she’d spoken her vows. But every time she revealed some other fault, waiting a beat to see how he’d handle the news, whether it would shake him, he was reminded how that faith had been wrung out of her like a bar rag.

Didn’t matter. She’d see soon enough. And until then...well, he really couldn’t complain. She was strong. Smart. She knew how to protect herself.

“She makes me laugh. And she’s exceptionally easy to be with. Easy to talk to.” Easy to look at and easy to think about. Maybe even a little too easy on that last count.

But it was to be expected.

Megan was a challenge. And though he’d gotten her to give their marriage a chance, he knew she wasn’t sold. Which meant she was an unfinished project. A deal hovering on the brink of closure. Damn it, she was an itch yet to be scratched. He wanted her, and until he knew she was securely his, she’d be occupying more of his mind than he would typically allot to a relationship.

“Man, I’m glad you found a woman you can talk to. I know you’d always figured on a marriage that was more of a merger. And after Caro—”

“Look, I’m about home.” Connor slowed at the driveway, waiting for the security gate and garage to open. “Time to wear down the wife.”

“Got it.” Jeff laughed, not taking the abrupt end to the conversation personally. If he had something to say, he’d make sure he got another chance to say it. “And good luck... Sounds like you’re going to need it.”

Connor cut the call and jumped out of the car, a slow grin spreading to his lips as his mind latched on to the last sight he’d had of his wife before he left for work. He knew she wouldn’t look like the sexy kitten she’d been that morning, purring under the kiss he’d pressed against her lips before she’d been quite awake. Sleep mussed and warm. The silky pajamas she’d been wearing shaping over her nipples and riding high toward her ribs.

Small wonder she’d been on his mind the past eleven hours.

She’d be dressed by now. Probably all neat and tidy. Still, he couldn’t quite kick the salacious happenings taking place in the not-so-far-back of his mind. Silky, sleep-mussed happenings wrapped up in a welcome-home, I’ve-been-aching-for-you-all-day kind of kiss.

Yeah, fat chance.

Closing the door behind him, he called down the hall with a facetious “Honey, I’m home.”

The silence echoed back to him as he dropped his keys on the glass-topped table and kept walking toward the stairs. The second floor was dark and empty, with only a single dim bulb illuminated at the top of the flight. The third floor too. His brow furrowed as he checked his phone for messages. None.

It wasn’t as if returning to an empty house was a new experience for him, but with Megan living there, he’d expected...something different.

Not that he was disappointed. He’d wanted an independent woman who wouldn’t make him feel guilty about the schedule he kept or as if her life was tied to his.

Wish granted!

Only walking through the empty house that had never felt lonely to him before, he had to concede a week into their marriage that he hadn’t anticipated getting his wish would suck quite this way.

Midway down the darkened hall, Connor paused, just outside Megan’s office door. A sliver of light leaked through the seam, and from within came the quiet yet distinct sound of keys tapping.

She was here.

Turning the knob, Connor opened the door to Megan’s sanctuary...and discovered his silk-clad morning fantasy staring hard at the monitor as her fingers assaulted the keyboard in front of her.

The sexiness of her sleep-rumpled look had gone mildly stale throughout the day, and yet Connor couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was intense, focused. And bobbing her lovely head ever so slightly to the beat of whatever she had pumping into her ears through those hot-pink little earbuds.

Never in a million years would he have expected to come home to a scene like this if he’d married Caro. She’d have been polished and primped. Attentive in the distant way he’d become so familiar with. Making small talk, much as they did with strangers through a cocktail party.

And he’d never have really known—in all honesty, would never have really cared—where her head was at.

Not like this, he thought with a bemused smile. Right now, he knew exactly where Megan’s head was. Deep in her work. The project she’d been waiting on must finally have come in.