Page 17 of Pack’s Pledge

Under my conservative little black dress, the soft feel of deep grey lace against my skin emboldened me, giving me the confidence to flirt across the table, licking the silky creme from my spoon, watching his eyes widen and his strong fingers tighten on his own silverware.

Conall drove me in his gorgeous, expensive car to my run-down, cheap apartment, and when he walked me up to the door of my apartment building, I looked up to see a soft smile on his face. Hopeful, I thought, although maybe I was just projecting. But… Beau thought so. Adrian thought the same. Maybe…

We stood, facing each other, on the stoop, the lightbulb above the door buzzing just like the live-wire end of each and every one of my nerves.

“I had a really nice time, tonight, Britt,” he said, and I smiled.

“Nice?” I said, and he grimaced in the way I remembered, his eyes blinking, lips twisting familiarly. My heart twisted, too.

“Better than nice,” he amended. “Britt, I…”

His eyes were fixed on mine, but I noticed from the corner of my eye the way his fingers twitched at his side. I couldn’t wait any longer. Whatever he was going to say–I didn’t want to hear it.

I just wanted this, tonight, whatever I could get.

And if it was only tonight, well… I would have to learn to be okay with that, like I’d learned to be okay with not having him at all.

“Do you want to come up?” I asked.

I think he was as shocked as I was when his chin tipped down in a slow nod.

“Yes.”

* * *

We’d only madeit half a step into my apartment when firm arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me tight against his body. I swallowed a gasp of surprise as his crashed into mine, his lips soft and slightly chapped.

I’m kissing Conall Blake,I thought, my eyes wide, and then, they fluttered shut, and I stopped thinking at all.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he said, his voice gravelly, and I had to laugh.Get back to me when it’s been 15 years, Conall.

“Do it again,” I prompted, and he did, this time, his tongue flicking out to trace the seam of my lips. I opened them, and groaned as he deepened the kiss, pressing my body closer to his. He was all hard angles, broad shoulders and narrow waist, firm and warm under my touch as I slipped my hands around his neck, pulling him down. His hands slipped lower, until they occupied the same space as Beau’s had. He squeezed, tentatively, and I pushed my ass back into his hands.

In the span of a breath, my back was against the wall, his thigh slotted between mine, his hands tight on my hips and his mouth on my neck, his tongue hot. My feet had lost their footing on the floor: Conall was half-holding me up, strong arms on my hips and his cock hard against my stomach. I was burning hot–my skin alight and my belly awash in desire. My clit throbbed against his thigh, and I moaned into the quiet air of my apartment. How was I so close to the edge already? I moved my hips again, and–

He was gone.

“Britt,” he said, “fuck, I–I’m so sorry.” His eyes were wide and wild, and he turned away jerkily. His hands were in his hair, and I watched the muscles of his back tense and move under his white dress shirt, suit jacket abandoned in the car. “I didn’t mean to– I don’t want to–”

“To what?” I asked, my chest constricting painfully.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said.

And I stopped feeling anything at all.

This was just a fling for him. A one-night thing, that he was pre-emptively feeling guilty about–he alwayshadbeen a nice guy. Getting reacquainted with an old friend, who was still desperately, pathetically still obsessed with you. Was I that obvious? Yes, yes I was. I’d dressed up, and let him buy me dinner, and invited him up to my apartment. He had anomegawaiting for him at home, he didn’t need me–

“I’m worried I won’t be able to control myself around you,” he continued, “I want you so much, I always have, and I don’t want to frighten–”

“Wait,” I said. “What?”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, and the Conall that turned back to me wore the same face I’d seen so often during our last year of school together: pain, and confusion, and… fear.

The tightness in my chest loosened.Hedidwant me.Was he scared I didn’t? The thought was absurd.

I took a step closer to him, then another.

“Hey, Conall,” I said. I took a step closer. I didn’t know where my confidence was coming from–maybe it was the lingerie I knew I wore under my dress, or maybe it was because this was my last chance, or maybe I was just that desperate–but it only grew when I reached out and planted two palms flat against his chest to feel his heart beating wildly, just under the smooth fabric of his shirt.

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