“I wonder what she’d make of me,” he mused. “Entrepreneur and small business owner sounds much more respectable than indie musician or bartender.”
My heart swelled at the thought of them meeting.
“She’s going to love you,” I said.
“You think?”
“You make me happy,” I said. “That’s the only thing she’ll care about.”
Connor’s eyes turned soft. He put down the cigar box he’d been fiddling with and came over to me. He put his hands on my hips and backed me up until I was pressed against the bookshelf.
“You make me happy, too,” he said.
He placed a gentle kiss on my lips. I put my hands on his shoulders and pulled him in for another one, more firm and insistent. His fingers tightened on my hips, digging into me. His tongue sought entrance and I opened to him with a pleased sigh.
My hands wandered down his broad back, enjoying every shift of his muscles under his shirt. Our kisses turned hot and fervent as we breathed heavily in each other’s mouths. With one hand he cupped my ass while using the other to pin my wrist to the bookshelf above me. I arched my back as he left my lips and attacked my exposed neck.
He sucked on the sensitive skin and I groaned. He was no doubt leaving marks. I couldn’t make myself care. Distantly, I wondered if they had cameras watching the room. They must have. Then I wondered how far they’d let us get before breaking it up.
Connor licked a hot, wet stripe up my throat and all thoughts fled. I writhed against him, letting my head fall back against the shelf, thumping the back of my head against the spines of the books.
Click.
We fell over as the bookshelf swung open. Connor landed on his butt with a groan of pain and I landed on his chest, a whoosh of air leaving my lungs.
With equally surprised expressions, we turned our heads at the same time as a small hidden room was revealed, along with a pedestal that had a large silver key lying on it.
“We did it!” Connor immediately jumped up from my side, leaving me reeling and disorientated. I was already throbbing and aching between my legs, left wanting, but Connor had other priorities.
“Is that the key to the exit?” I asked as I rubbed my bruised knees. I’d scraped them against the floor. At least Connor’s body had broken most of my fall. He’d taken the brunt of it.
If he felt any pain, he didn’t show it. He was too busy crowing about solving the puzzle — although technically it had been me who found the secret room when I’d bumped my head against the trick bookshelf.
He snatched up the key and held out a hand to help me to my feet.
“I feel just like Sherlock Holmes,” he said, glee evident in his voice.
I pressed a chaste, smacking kiss to his cheek.
“I’m glad you had fun,” I told him.
He tugged me to his chest and gave me a not-so-chaste kiss, ready to continue where we left off. I allowed it for a minute, then pulled away.
“Let’s use the key before time runs out,” I said. “I think there’s a leader board for whoever finishes the fastest.”
Connor’s face lit up and he ran to the door to unlock it. It swung open seconds before a buzzer sounded. I checked my phone.
We’d just barely made it in time.
“We probably shouldn’t have stopped to make out,” I told him.
Connor turned to me with a grin.
“Worth it,” he said.
Twenty-Seven
When Connor suggestedwe cook dinner at home, I cringed.