Page 86 of Our Secret Moments

My mouth closes when Connor’s soft lips press against the hammering pulse on my neck, sucking. Claiming. My eyes flash with a question:what are you doing?And because I have a sadist for a boyfriend, he just smirks at me, continuing to kiss across my collarbone.

My eyes close as his hands work on the button of my jeans. I’m a fucking mess. My body is betraying me and there’s nothing I can do about it.

“Cat?”

“Yeah?” My voice is a breathy confirmation. I clear my throat for the second time.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You don’t usually scream like that over a stubbed toe,” Nora explains. God, she knows me too well. Apparently, so does her brother, because he works my jeans off my hips and I step out of them.What am I doing?I don’t know, but it feels too good to stop. He presses his hardness into me. I can feel myself almost crying out in pleasure, but he slaps his hands across my mouth in a silent warning. “I mean there wasthat one time when you thought there was a spider in your room, but it was just a piece of hair.”

“Yeah,” I try to make my voice sound normal when Connor releases his hand off my mouth, but he keeps rocking his hips into me at a punishingly slow space and my panties are so soaked I’m going to leave a mark on his boxers. “It wasjust like that.”

I sling my arms around Connor’s neck, pulling him closer to me. His hand finds my mouth again, covering it completely as his other hand digs into the flesh on my hips. Everything about this feels so wrong, but so fucking good. I keep rubbing my core against him as he continues to leave soft kisses across my face.

“Oh my god! Do you remember that time when you–” Connor swivels his hips, his cock pushing against my clit and I moan against his hand. The fact that he’s managed to keep silent is a mystery, but all of his muscles are tensing and flexing, displaying his restraint. The sight of his broad chest and the way it feels under my fingers sends another wave of pleasure through me as he keeps rocking himself into me.

Holy fuck.

I’m going to come like this.

“Stop!” I end up shouting.

“What?” Nora cries from the other side of the door. I’ve been completely tuning her out and it’s not fair to let her talk to me whilst her brother is about to bring me to orgasm.

“I just don’t want to listen to one of your stories right now, Nor. I’ve had a really long day and I just want to go to bed,” I get out in one breath. The two sentences sound like one word at the speed I’m talking, but I can’t control myself anymore.

“Okay, jeez. Don’t get your panties in a twist,” she mutters. I can just imagine her rolling her eyes. “Goodnight, sweetpea!”

“Night,” I grumble. I pin Connor with a look, pushing my hand against his chest and walking him back to the bed. Whenhis back hits my pillows, I immediately sit in his lap, needing the friction now more than ever. “Don’t ever put me in that position again.”

He cocks his head to the side. “What? You didn’t enjoy it?”

“That’s not the point,” I argue, swatting his hands off me as he tries to touch my thighs. “How would you like it if I was controlling you like that, huh? Doing things to you I know you couldn’t keep quiet for?”

His grin splits across his face. “That, Catherine, sounds like my idea of heaven.”

“You’re ridiculous,” I laugh, squeezing his face until it squishes together.

“Just say you missed my hot and sexy body so we can get on with our day,” he replies.

I shrug, wanting to roll my eyes. “Yeah, I guess I missed you a bit.”

I throw out every idea I had when I got him down on the bed and instead straddle him like I’m a koala hugging a tree, and hold onto him until we both fall asleep.

THIRTY-TWO

CAT

MERRY CHRISTMAS

I haveno fucking clue who decided to call Christmas the ‘most wonderful time of the year,’ because all it brings me is stress, depression, and a tummy ache. Nothing stresses me out more than the thought of small family gatherings and a faulty Christmas tree that my dad pulls out from the garage two days before Christmas.

Don’t get me wrong. I love Christmas movies, shopping, all the festivities and everything that comes with the joy of the cold weather. What I don’t like is the way time suddenly slows down and people now have the energy to start being nice to people they didn’t care about a few weeks ago. I don’t like that I’m supposed to act like everything is fine when it is very far from it.

Take my dad for example. The same man who cancelled Thanksgiving plans with me now wants to spend Christmas day together. Just the two of us, he said. We’re a week away from Christmas and I can’t wait to get it over with. I couldn’t think of anything worse than spending the day with him.

Before I can wallow and complain about that, I’ve got to finish off my final interview with the football team before the playoffs in January.

From what I’ve shown Coach Mackenzie, he says what I’ve pulled together is the best the newspaper has seen in years. The small comments he makes make my dream of writing a column for the New York Times seem somewhat achievable. I know I’m a long way from that, but it feels more tangible now.

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