Page 52 of Our Secret Moments

“What are you doing?” she asks again, knocking.

“Your brother,” I sigh, finally opening the door, inch by aching inch until only my head is in view. Connor’s hand teases my waist, pulling at the band of my shorts. I’m going to kill him.

Nora looks exactly how she does every morning after a party – her medium length brown hair is a mess of knots, her mascara is smudged, and her lip gloss is smeared across her cheek as she rocks a Twilight shirt and sleep shorts.

“Excuse me? You’re doing my brother?” she asks, rubbing at her temples as she closes her eyes. I take the opportunity to turn back to Connor who is grinning at me, dipping his hand up myshirt and across my back. ‘Nice save,’ he whispers the words so quietly I can hardly hear them.

I shake my head at him, biting my lip before turning back to her. “Yeah, I gave the rest to Connor last night. He said they had run out and Wes needed it. He asked me for some before he left.”

She rolls her eyes. “He’s such a dick.”

“I know,” I agree. As the words leave my mouth his hand travels into the waistband of my shorts, trailing along the seam of my panties and I push the door more closed until my body is fully out of view.

Nora narrows her eyes. “Why do you look like that?”

“Like what?” I breathe out, the heat of Connor’s hand almost making me go dizzy as his hands trail across my stomach. Nora scans my face, her eyebrows pinched together.

“I dunno. You just look a little shaken up. Are you okay?” she asks, crossing her arms against her chest.

“Because you’ve woken me out of my slumber to search for your Tylenol that your dickhead brother took,” I retort, tilting my head to the side. Connor’s hand flexes against my stomach.

“Hm,” she hums. “That’s fair. I’ll ask Elle-Belle.”

I nod and finally shut the door, lock it, and sigh against it. Connor immediately comes into my view, smirking at me as he crowds over me. He has a habit of making me feel smaller than I actually am.

“You played that hating me part a little too well, Cat,” he whispers, his eyes darkening.

“Did you want me to tell her that I was straddling you in my bed two minutes ago? Because I can call her back and tell her,” I challenge, tugging on the bottom of his shirt, needing him closer to me.

“You wouldn’t dare,” he breathes.

I don’t need any more subtle hints to my lips before I stand on my tiptoes, curl his shirt in my hands as I press my mouthto his. Compared to the hard, desperate kiss he gave me earlier, this one is calmer, more paced.

It feels like we have all the time in the world as his fresh taste settles over me, becoming one with my mouth. He groans as he brings both of his hands to the side of my face, holding me tight. His hands tangle into my hair, pulling on my curls, his nails caressing my scalp. The physical contact puts my body on high alert.

I force myself to pull back from him, needing a second to breathe.

I can feel his smile against my lips, and I almost lose all composure.

“You’re right,” I murmur, “I wouldn’t say anything. But, if we do this, Connie – whatever this is – she can’t find out. Not until we’re both ready. We could royally fuck up everything.”

“I know,” he whispers, dropping his forehead to mine.

“Are you sure?” I tease, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “Because you’ve been on a little rebellious streak lately.”

He shakes his head lightly, laughing a little. “Whatever happens, this is going to be worth it.”

“What makes you so sure of that?”

“Because it’s you, Catherine. Anything and everything you do is perfect. I don’t see why this would be any different,” he says with certainty. When I look up at him and catch his dark gaze, his hands still cupping my face, I kiss him back and I believe him.

I want to see where hoping can take me.

TWENTY

CONNOR

KIT-CAT

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