Page 81 of Beautiful Lies
“I’d rather fuck you.”
He laughed as he stood up, and still holding me, carried me into the bedroom and laid me down on his bed. I pulled off the shirt and tossed it aside then scooted back so my head was on the pillow. Once again, Connor had gone commando. His sweatpants came off and he was naked and ready for me. Good thing because it seemed I was always ready for him. Connor turned me into a lust-addled, sex-crazed maniac and it felt like I could never get enough of him. He nudged my legs apart and I wrapped them around his waist, my fingers sifting through his hair and holding the back of his head as he cupped my breast in his hand and lifted it to his mouth. I rocked my hips against his erection and he groaned, the vibration making my nipples get harder, my sex clenching.
“I need you. Now,” I said, not caring that I sounded desperate. I was so wet, I could feel it dripping down my leg.
Connor wasn’t looking for fast and dirty tonight, it seemed. He ignored my plea and his mouth moved to my other breast, his tongue teasing my sensitive nipple, pulling more moans from my lips. His hand slid between my legs, a finger slipping inside me, curling, reaching and then it was gone. He dragged his finger over my lips and slipped it inside my mouth. “Suck on my finger,” he said, and I did. I tasted myself, knowing he loved that, and I sucked on his finger, my cheeks hollowed until finally, finally he gave me what I wanted. He took his cock in his hand and guided it to my entrance, then thrust inside me, moving in and out in a slow, rhythmic pace.
“Let me hear you say it,” he said, his mouth moving up my neck, his kisses soft, making love to me with a gentleness I hadn’t known him capable of. That was what this was. Making love.
“I love you,” I whispered.
He kissed the corner of my mouth. “Again.”
“I love you.” I rocked my hips against him, needing more. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”
Connor tugged my lower lip between his lips, sucked on it and slowly released it before his mouth covered mine and he thrust deep inside me, so deep I could feel the piercings as the orgasm shattered me. Like that heart made of glass.
“I love you, Ava Blue,” he said, coming apart in my arms. And in that moment, I thought that it had all been worth it. All the pain. All the hurt. Because here we were, after all those detours, falling in love all over again.
I woke up, my body tucked into the curve of Connor’s, the room pitched in darkness. “Connor?” I whispered, not sure if he was asleep.
“Yeah, babe?”
“I drank too much wine.”
“It happens.”
“I should go tea-total. Whenever I drink, I either end up in a puddle of tears or I do something crazy. But you know what? I don’t regret anything I said to my family.”
“I wish it had been me, standing up for you. I hate it that you have to fight my battle.”
I turned in his arms to face him. “I think you’ve got it wrong. We’ve always fought for each other. When one of us lays down our sword, the other picks it up and goes to battle.”
“When does life stop being a battle?” he asked.
“When right wins over might.”
24
Connor
Another case of inker’s remorse. The morning after a drunken bachelor party, the guy in my tattoo chair—Jason—had woken up with a tattoo of a naked redhead wearing a sash beauty queen style with the name Lola written across it. Now it was my job to fix it.
“Next time you get drunk, don’t go to a tattoo parlor,” I said.
He shook his head. “Damn straight.”
It pissed me off that a tattoo artist would even ink a drunk guy. I would have turned him away and told him to go sleep it off.
The bell over the door chimed. I ignored it and concentrated on my linework. Saturday afternoon and the shop was busy. I was booked for the rest of the day and so were AJ, Lee, and Gavin. If it was a walk-in, Claudia knew to turn them away. Jason let out a low whistle. “Holy shit. I wouldn’t mind having her face and body inked on my arm. Check her out, man. You’ve gotta see what just walked in.”
I lifted the tattoo needle and turned my head to look, not expecting much, judging by his taste in tattoos, and nearly fell off my fucking stool.
What the hell wasshedoing in my shop?
The willowy brunette was shock and awe. Like a supermodel who had just stepped off the catwalk. Trouble with a capital T. I took deep breaths through my nose, trying to calm the fuck down, but I was losing my shit.
“Do you have an appointment?” Claudia asked. She was using that voice she reserved for beautiful women, like she automatically hated them on sight. Keira scanned the shop and her gaze settled on me, a brilliant smile lighting up her face. If she was happy to see me, the feeling wasn’t mutual.
