Page 44 of Heart Strings

I raise an eyebrow, leaning back slightly to study his face, looking for the catch. “This weekend? That’s sudden. You think you can just whisk me away at a moment’s notice?”

He chuckles, his blue eyes gleaming with excitement and something more, a depth that I’ve only begun to explore.

“I think I can be very convincing when I want to be,” he leans closer, his breath a warm whisper against my ear. “Imagine us in Paris, walking along the Seine at sunset, or in Rome, tossing coins into the Trevi Fountain. And then maybe Barcelona, where we can dance under the stars on a warm night. Just you and me.”

The way he describes it, the scenes he paints with his words—it’s all too easy to picture, too tempting to resist. Each word he speaks stirs something deep within me, a longing for adventure and a desire to experience all of this with him.

“That does sound incredible,” I admit, my heart fluttering at the thought. “You’re quite the dream weaver, rockstar. But there’s one problem with that: the money from the sale hasn’t gone through yet. It might not be the best time for a big trip.”

Connor’s expression softens, his thumb brushing against my hand reassuringly. “Don’t worry about that, I’ve got it covered. This is important. It’s our time to make some memories.”

I bite my lip, conflicted. The idea of him paying for everything nags at me, tugging at my independence. “Connor, I appreciate that, I do. But I don’t want you to think you have to pay for everything. I don’t need—”

He cuts off my protest with a gentle kiss, silencing my doubts. “Stop pouting, Tink,” he says as he pulls back slightly, his gaze intense. “You’re with me now, and if I want to spoil you a little, let me. You’ve given me so much, let me give something back to you. Let me take you on an adventure.”

A big part of me wants to fight him on this because I’ve always had my freedom. But I know Connor and if he wants to spoil me, there’s going to be no talking him out of it.

“Okay,” I whisper, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. “You’ve convinced me. Let’s go on an adventure.”

“Our first stop will be Paris,” Connor says, pulling up a map on his tablet. “We can visit the Louvre, walk along the Seine, maybe lock our love on that famous bridge.”

I giggle, leaning against him. “That sounds so romantic. And cliché.”

He chuckles, kissing the top of my head. “Sometimes clichés are good. Especially in Paris.”

The morning slips by as we talk about our upcoming trip—places we want to see, foods we want to try, all the little adventures we want to have together. The excitement builds, each plan we make anchoring the reality of this new step we’re taking.

Chapter 33

Gracie

It’s been a month and I still haven’t gotten used to waking up with Connor’s head in between my thighs.

“Connor—”

“Shhh, I’m having breakfast,” he murmurs against me, his fingers digging into my upper thighs while I writhe against his mouth.

My fingers pull at his hair as he teases me with his pierced tongue and two fingers slip inside of me. His groans while pleasing me are so damn erotic, that it doesn’t take me long until I’m calling out his name and seeing stars.

He kisses the inside of my thigh and moves up to my belly, his tongue skating over my hip bone. “Hmm, I never got to ask you about this,” he says as his tongue circles the spot where my tattoo is. “When did you get it?”

“I… Last year,” I breathe, my hips moving of their own volition as I talk between breaths. “A butterfly always meant… freedom to me and… the blue is the color of your eyes. The… music notes, well… obviously it’s for you, too.”

He stops winding his tongue around the spot and peers up at me. I meet his heated gaze and blush furiously. “Was I your freedom, Tink?” he asks; the tone of his voice sending a shiver through my body.

I nod. “You were… are my everything.”

The look in Connor’s eyes is one I will commit to memory forever, and a slow smile creeps onto his lips. “So, we both got tattoos in remembrance of each other,” he says, and with a final kiss to the butterfly, he continues to kiss a hot path over my breasts to my neck.

I’m breathless as he crawls up my body, feeling entirely boneless in his arms. He grins when he sees the look on my face, then he’s pushing inside of me and my eyes roll back in my head.

“Fuck, that’s my perfect girl,” he groans into the nape of my neck as he moves against me slowly, thrusting deep and slow just how I like it.

A blush creeps over my cheeks when he says this; I swear I’ll never get used to him praising me in bed. The filthy words he whispers in my ears will never fail to make me blush, like I’m this inexperienced college freshman.

Well, I am sort of inexperienced in that department, but still!

I slip my arms around his neck and his hand goes to my thigh, and he pulls it higher, going deeper. Molding to Connor’s body is like a reflex, everything I’ve shared intimately with him feels like I’ve been doing it my entire life.

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