Sallinger, Elene - Reflection (The Chrysalis Series)

Instead, he’d seen Bridget and the motherfucking janitor going at each other like rabbits. His hands had been all over her and hers had been between his legs. That bitch acted like she was so fucking pristine and here she was out in public acting like a total whore.

There was no way he was letting her off the hook now. He’d considered it. He hated that she looked at him with fear. Hated that he felt compelled to coerce and manipulate her. She, of all the women he’d dealt with, was the one he wanted to come to him freely. And, of all the women he’d dealt with, she was the one who rejected him out of hand.

No more. No fucking more.

He’d have her. He’d have her regardless of what she wanted.

He thought of her fighting him. Crying. Begging. Pleading. She’d be sublime in her pain.

His dick hardened.

‘You know,’ a soft voice whispered in his ear, ‘I could help you with that.’

Whittier looked into the heavily made-up eyes of the waitress he’d followed before. She was staring at his erection, her eyes hot with lust.

The rest of the party was so engrossed in trying to one up each other that no one was paying any attention to them. He set his glass on the table and ran his hand up her stockinged leg. He cupped her ass under her skirt. Thong and garters. Easy access.

‘Yes, you can.’ He stood and gestured for her to lead the way.

Later, as he pounded into her from behind in the employee bathroom, he imagined she had red hair and green eyes.

She was going to kill him. Right there in the moment. He would die with the worst damn hard-on and everyone would know that he’d bought it trying to keep his hands off the sexiest woman he’d ever met. He knew he had to keep it together or he was going to wreck everything.

She’d finally trusted him enough to start breaking down her walls and he wasn’t going to wreck it by behaving like an animal. He’d damn near jumped her in the restaurant, but fortunately he’d managed to stop himself. He still had to tread carefully with her. The barrier was falling, just a little, but it was a start.

He’d almost blown it in the alley. Literally and figuratively. He’d been ready to come then too. But going down on her in an alley was no way to get her to come to grips with her sexuality. It would read as sleazy even if it wasn’t meant that way.

With her innate sexiness, she made it so hard for him to stay focused. All she had to do was speak in that low, silky drawl and his cock was standing at attention, begging for her lips to do something other than speak. He’d been serious, he’d been willing to come in his pants right there for her. Anything to keep her hands on him. He hadn’t been able to keep from touching her at the restaurant and now, as they walked the few blocks from Luna Bella to her house, he couldn’t keep his eyes off her.

The gold silk dress she wore clung to all the right spots, accentuating her full, soft curves. The stiletto heels added height and made her legs seem endless while giving a sway to her walk that mesmerised him. Tendrils of coppery hair floated around her neck despite the attempt to wrangle the curls on top of her head, and a single strand of pearls circled her neck. She was a fantasy. A pin-up mixed with Hollywood starlet, and if he thought he’d come away with both his balls intact, he’d press her up against the nearest wall, find out exactly what she had on under that silk, and bury his cock deep inside her. But you didn’t treat a woman like Bridget with that kind of abandon. Not yet anyway. Her past required deference.

One day, if he handled this right, there’d be no barriers between them and their sexual relationship would be about exploration, not healing. Until then though, she had to be handled gently and with care.

Not that his dick gave a flying damn. He shuddered as it came to life at the thought of being inside Bridget. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep his control so rigidly in check. Cold showers weren’t cutting it any more. He loved the progress they’d made. Loved that she allowed him to make love to her, but tonight he wanted her in a way that cut through his control like a hot knife through butter.

‘You haven’t heard a word I’ve said, have you?’ Bridget was smiling up at him. Her emerald eyes sparkled with mirth in the moonlight.

Rather than dissemble, he shook his head and said, ‘Nope. I’ve been distracted.’ He was surprised to find they were already at her porch.

‘Darlin’, that’s obvious.’ She smiled. The curve of her full lips riveted him. ‘What’s got you so deep in thought that my exposition on Daisy’s latest hijinks isn’t keeping your attention?’

Leaning against the railing of her steps, he pulled her to him, enveloping her in a gentle hug.

‘You, Bridg. You have me distracted.’ Tipping her chin up, he dropped a gentle kiss on her lips. ‘I think I better go home, before I do something that I’ll regret and you might resent.’

She gripped his lapels and held tight as she whispered against his lips, ‘What makes you so sure I’m going to resent what you want to do?’

He pulled her in closer, resting her head on his chest while at the same time pushing his hips against hers so she couldn’t miss his obvious arousal. He waited for her to tense and was surprised when she just melted further against him.

Plunging ahead, he said, ‘That’s why, Bridget. I don’t think you’re ready yet for how I’m feeling tonight and I’m not sure my control will hold tonight.

‘I want you too badly. You feel too good. You look too good. You smell too good. And, dammit, I want inside you more than I want to breathe at the moment. But I’m not feeling gentle, Bridget. I want it rough and hard. And, baby, you need gentle. You need calm and considerate. We’re still feeling our way through this and I don’t know that I can give that to you tonight.’ He took a deep, deep breath and set her away from him. ‘So, I better go.’

Damp, green eyes searched his face for long moments before she turned away reaching for her key. What hope he’d had that she’d take him up on his offer crumbled to ashes. He watched her unlock each lock – the mechanisms that symbolised her scars as much as they protected her – and in that moment he wanted to rip to shreds the man who had so indelibly changed her.

The last lock clicked and she opened the door before turning to him, a tentative smile on her lips.

‘Connor.’ She held her hand out to him.

He took it in his, prepared to give her one last kiss and take his leave.

‘I’m not made of glass, Connor. What I need is for you to treat me like a woman. Your woman. I trust you, baby.’

Gripping her hand tightly, Connor said, ‘Be sure, Bridget. There’s no going back once I start.’

Rather than speak she pulled him closer, raised up on her toes, and kissed him.

He didn’t kiss her, he ravaged her mouth. And, for once, she melted into it. He nipped at her lower lip and sucked gently to eradicate the pain. He walked her backward into her foyer and kicked the door shut behind them.

‘Locks,’ she panted against his mouth and he broke the kiss long enough to slam all the locks tight.

Unwilling to wait, Bridget grabbed him by the jacket and pushed him up against the wall next to her door. She ripped the jacket off and tossed it aside, praying Daisy didn’t decide to use it as a bed later.

As if summoned by the thought, the pit bull terrier came out to greet them and simultaneously they hollered, ‘Daisy, bed!’ Daisy gave them a doggy huff and left in search of her bed, clearly not happy at being excluded, but the last thing Bridget wanted was an audience.

The interruption did nothing to quell the heat between them. It had been building in the time they’d been seeing each other. Growing hotter with each interlude as Connor slowly drew out her sensuality, reminding her she was a woman, not just a female with the requisite body parts. Now, the heat was too much. She might not want to jump off the ledge altogether, but she definitely wanted more than what they’d done the other times.