Page 45 of Not a Perfect Save

All of a sudden, I don’t recall quite why I’m so upset. Still, Connor’s confident grin makes me frown, even as I loop my arms around his neck to steady myself. I want to wipe that smug expression off his face, if only on principle. I draw from the last reserves of my courage and mix it in with a booze-based confidence I don’t feel. “No. You just have a hero complex. You gotta work on that. Very unattractive.” But I contradict my words by burying my face against his chest and they come out mumbled instead.

His laugh is soft, the vibrations echo against my cheek, and his arms tighten around me. “I’ll do that.”

Right this moment, I cannot find it in me to care that my escape plan has been foiled. I look up as he dips his head down, and his mouth covers mine. His kiss makes me breathless, but at the same time, it feels like the first bit of air I’ve been able to take in days.

I’m enveloped in his scent as I kiss him back, starved for him. Desperate. Devouring. I pretend we’re alone and not the center of the attention that I know we’ve become.

Connor releases me, only long enough to tow me to the dance floor, then tucks me against him again. His hands rest possessively on the small of my back, right above my butt. Almost as if cued, the band switches from the upbeat number they were playing to a slower tune.

I rotate my head just enough to see Hannah glaring us down from her position in Hank’s arms. I smirk and face Connor once more. I can’t say I hate the envious looks sent my way. I’m perfectly happy to admit I’m a shallow, shallow human being.

And then, beat by beat, the rest of the room disappears as Connor and I sway in each other’s arms. I shift, pressing closer. When he hardens against my belly, I feel myself clench.

My eyes find his. “Got a room?” I whisper.

I love the little grin that springs to his lips. He leads me, unresisting, out of the ballroom. We take the elevators up to the top floor and I follow him down the long hallway to one of the suites.

“Come into my lair, said the spider to the fly,” Connor mocks lightly as he holds the door open for me. I walk in, perfectly content to be caught in his web.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

CONNOR

I hadn’t plannedto use the comp room Hannah and Hank arranged for me. Hell, I hadn’t planned anything at all. The only thing I’d been expecting was to be reamed out the moment Ella saw me at her sister’s party. In fact, I was ready for it.

So when I walked in, I was shocked to find Ella in a corner, far away from the wedding group. I always knew that she wasn’t a big fan of the people she grew up with, but it’s like she was a whole different person. It’s the quietest I’ve ever seen her. Demure, put together.

It’s strange to see her so…still. As if she’s folded in on herself.

As I struggle to make sense of what I’m witnessing, and to plot my approach, Hannah grabs hold of my arm. She has me flitting about like a prize monkey. But I can’t keep my eyes off Ella. It’s been less than a week since I last saw her, but it feels like forever.

My lips thin when a guy brings her a drink. She takes it, but then waves him away.So, not her date.I breathe easier and scan the rest of her table. There doesn’t seem to be anyone under the age of fifty keeping her company. Her crutch is propped on the chair to her side. I’m worried. Did she manage to hurt herself again?

But then, her foot bounces. Her sprained foot. The little faker. My tension eases and I have to hide a grin.

I pretend interest in the people milling around me—it’s second nature at this point—and use the time to plan my attack.

And then she is falling, literally at my feet. And I don’t give a damn about anything else, just relieved to have her close to me again. I don’t care how pissed she is at my presence.

Now that Ihave her in my suite, all vestiges of my urbane disguise disappear. I spin her to face me and haul her into my arms. Our lips collide, almost violently, and our teeth clash.

She clings to me, tugging me even closer, her movements just as needy as mine. Our kisses are ravenous, and a strangled sound leaves me. Her hands tunnel through my hair, and I growl. She moans in response, and the sound sends another rush of arousal through me. I’m shaking—uncoordinated, dying for her. I fuck her mouth with my tongue. It’s desperate and dirty and I can’t get enough.

I crush her against me. Even a single inch between us is too much. She clamps a leg around my thigh, pressing her center against me, grinding against the hard muscle. Her movements are jerky and insistent. I grunt, and my hands grab her ass, urging her to buck against me, take what she wants.

I cannot get enough of her taste, her smell, her feel. My dick throbs almost painfully against her stomach, my shoulders shaking with need. My heart pounds. Each beat is the same—Ella, Ella, Ella.

I want her so bad, my balls hurt. My cock is eager, I thrust against her belly and her hands tighten in my hair. But I need her to know how I feel before this goes any further. Gritting my teeth, I fight for some restraint. She utters a little whimper when I draw back, and nips at my lower lip.

Booze, lust, and annoyance at my stopping sparkle in her jade green eyes, making me grin. She’s normally not this bold, but I’m enjoying this more reckless version of her. I duck again, because I can’t help it and my lips graze her temple, and slowly skim down the side of her face and along her jaw.

Ella twists her head so our mouths meet again. But this time our kiss is soft, tender. I coax her lips open. Everything I want to say is in this kiss. My lips brush hers once, twice, then I lift my head, ready to confess it all aloud.

I draw in a breath, suddenly nervous. I’m about to tell someone a truth I never believe even existed.

But Ella uses the brief pause to spin around and present me with her back. “Off damned dress, off!” she mutters. Lady Macbeth, she is not.

I chuckle, and obediently tug the zipper down. But then I’m not laughing anymore. “What the hell?”

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