Page 36 of Lovely Venom
This just got interesting.
With silent footsteps, I keep going until I reach the end of the tunnel. This doorislocked, which gives me pause and intrigue. If someone got loose, Connor doesn’t want anyone getting in here.
The lock on the steel door is complicated, but I work it open. After pushing it inward, I step into an entirelydifferentworld.
A hidden lair.
Oh God.
I was here.Thisis where Connor took me.Thisis where he fucked me.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Raina
Rich hardwood floors. Dark leather furniture. A heavy oak desk stacked with unopened mail. Distinctly masculine cologne lingers in the air.
This is Connor’s home.
It’s one of those rare cozy apartments with high ceilings, milky white walls, and saddle brown beams. I recognize the scent of wood smoke, expensive whiskey, and something else sharp and masculine now that I’ve been close to Connor again.
This place smells like him.
I move to the window. Yep, that’s the same courtyard shrouded in trees and soft twinkling lights. I stepped through that wonderland last June just as the dawn was breaking. My vagina ached with every step. But I felt great.
This place is hidden, tucked away from prying eyes. And perfect for sneaking out hookups.
I exhale slowly. “Clever, Quinlan.”
Just then, headlights cut through the courtyard, and a car swings around to park in front of the door.
Shit. “Dumbass, Riot.”
I lock the steel door to the tunnel behind me and quickly scan the space for an escape. Hearing keys in the front door, I slip down a hallway and come up short, seeingthebedroom. It all comes rushing back. That comfy king bed, modest wooden headboard, simple comforter, and dented soft pillows.
Connor’s bedroom. The exact place I shouldn’t be again.
I spot a set of louvre doors and dash that way,breathing in relief that it’s a walk-in closet. I kill the flashlight and make sure my headlamp is off. With the doors closed, a slice of light from the outside shines through the windows and into the bedroom. I lean back and smell the lingering cologne on tailored suits and crisp shirts. I wedge myself between them, pressing my back against the wall.
Connor enters, his body visible through the slats. My stomach tightens, and I tell myself it’s because I don’t like variables. Or surprises. I hold my breath, thinking he won’t be alone.
But he is.
He hikes up to a dresser and starts emptying his pockets. When he unbuttons his tux jacket, my excitement ticks up, hoping I’ll get a reminder of what’s under those threads. Connor strips, each layer peeled deftly from his large frame with massive hands.
I worry he’s going to hang up the tux in this closet. He just tosses everything on a nearby chair.
Connor stretches, a tight groan slipping from his gorgeous mouth. Until a smile builds on his lips. Next, he’s standing in front of his bed naked.
Jesus Mary Joseph. The way this man is built will be my undoing.
Then his cock thickens.
“Oh yeah,” he drawls, grasping it.
Oh God, he’s going to masturbate.
Please do that in your shower!
