Page 19 of Rebellious Reign

“I would never want to hurt yours,” I tell him, moving to stand beside him.

I lean down, gently caressing his thigh. I swirl my fingers, moving closer with each swipe to his cock, and then I gently hover over it. I can see it twitch in anticipation behind the thin material of his shorts.

“They are too pretty to mess up.”

It’s his turn to laugh, and then he scowls as a groan sneaks out, no doubt a reaction to pain from his face injury.

“Don’t call them pretty. You’ll make them shrink.”

“Sorry. They are extremely masculine and round … ish.”

“That’s better,” he says.

He pulls the towel away, checking to see if everything has stopped bleeding. It has, so I lean in, planting a small kiss right on the tip of his nose, and whisper a contrite sorry again.

“You can pay me back by going on a date with me,” he says, shocking the shit out of me.

“A date?” I ask, wondering if he’s fucking with me now. “Where?”

“The element of surprise is a great asset,” he repeats with a wink.

Then, it’s my turn to groan. I know he won’t tell me now.

6

WRYN

“Where are we going?” I look over at Connor, watching his face as the lights flash by, illuminating him one second and then bathing him in darkness the next second.

He’s got his hand casually lying on the steering wheel of his midnight-black Mercedes-Benz S-Class, and he’s relaxed. It’s damn sexy to look at.

I let my gaze trail down his body. He’s not dressed in a suit, like usual, and for some reason, right now, it’s really doing it for me. Maybe it’s the promise of the night, so open but still so mysterious since he won’t tell me anything about it. His T-shirt leaves little to my imagination with the way it hugs his trim torso, and I ache to slowly peel it from him and lick all the skin it reveals.

Slow down, girl. The night is young.

He looks over at me, a slight smirk on his face, and with the smooth line of his jaw, I have to control myself from jumping out of my seat and fastening my mouth around those sultry lips. Above them is evidence of my little tantrum. The blooming bruise around his nose and eyes causes the guilt to ripple through my gut.

“Quit asking. I’m not telling you anything,” he says.

I cross my arms over my chest and stick out my bottom lip. Not one bit apologetic for acting like a child, but I do need to apologize … again.

“I’m sorry about your nose,” I say, and he reaches his hand over, laying it on my thigh.

“That’s still not going to get me to give you an answer,” he counters, and I sit back in my seat with a huff.

“We don’t need to go anywhere,” I say. I spread my thighs a little, and his hand crawls up my skin. “We could pull over right here.”

“Someone’s in a good mood,” he says, stopping the rise of his hand, and I groan.

I think about it, wondering where this has come from. Maybe it’s because I got my way with Francesca, and I think things are starting to turn around for me. Maybe I’m gaining a foothold in the family—or at least in my partnership with Connor. Maybe I got a little wound up earlier when his hands were all over me, caging me in, making me shiver with excitement.

Maybe I’m just horny for horny’s sake.

“I was until you stopped moving your hand up,” I say.

He outright laughs. “I like it when you are feisty.”

I grin over at him as he looks at me, and for a second, I imagine we are a normal couple. That we met in a library and he asked me on a date. That we went out a few times before we stayed the night together. That our relationship progressed naturally before he got down on one knee and proposed.

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