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  “I flirted with the guy. Is that what you want to hear?” She shot to her feet and paced away. Connor just about caught himself before he could grip her shoulders and pull her back against him. Something hideous took up residence in his stomach at what she’d just revealed. He’d seen it coming and still hadn’t been prepared for the image. “I let him think he was going to take me home so I could get the information we needed, then I crawled out the bathroom window.”

  His hands started to shake. It wasn’t only the flirting that maddened him. He loathed knowing she’d smiled at some fucker, teased the guy with the same body she teased him with. But it was so much more. He knew what men were capable of. Some men, especially men who’d had a few whiskeys, weren’t always satisfied with flirtation. It gave them the false assumption they were owed something. Which could lead to them trying to take it. That line of thinking might be extreme, but when he’d lived his life, seen women around him get taken advantage of or mistreated, the possibilities crashing through his brain weren’t out of the question. Not by any stretch.

  He massaged his forehead for long moments, trying to bring his boiling temper back down to a simmer, but it didn’t work. It needed to be released or it would remain and fester. Without thinking, he hauled back with his fist and slammed it into the SUV’s rear window. It cracked, glass crunching into a curved impression of his closed hand. Goddammit. This part of himself was disgusting. This trait he’d inherited. The need to be destructive when everything built up and required a place to go. “You don’t know what it does to me, Erin.” He pushed the words out between clenched teeth. “Knowing you were all alone in a bar full of men. You don’t know.”

  Based on the stunned look on her face, she now had an inkling. “You do know that they can’t touch me. I wouldn’t let them. If I can’t even have your hands on me, you think I could stand theirs?”

  “Theirs. That’s my point. How many of them, sweetheart? And only one of you.” He bunched his fist, pondering full-on demolishment of the window. Needing to see it break. Dying to hear the crunch and feel his knuckles being abraded. “What if they didn’t give you a choice? Any of them could have followed you to the bathroom or out of the bar—”

  There went the window. Aware that his show of anger had to be alarming her, he inhaled through his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them again, she was standing in front of him, not a hint of fear on her face. Only concern for him. He mentally sagged under the weight of her confidence in him, her obvious faith that although his fist broke windows, it would never come near her. Jesus, he’d rather die.

  Connor held his breath as Erin locked her wrists behind his neck, rubbing her cheek against the center of his chest, his hammering heart. She started to sway side to side, like a lapping ocean, and he was powerless to do anything but move with her, getting lost in the unhurried rhythm. Inside him, the chaos turned from a bright, blazing red to a tranquil blue. It happened so fast, it dizzied him. All it took was her touch, her being there. “You’re back now. You’re back,” she murmured, her voice almost carried away by the stiff breeze. “Anyway, that window had it coming.”

  It all came pouring out, his words tumbling over themselves in an effort to reach her and be accepted. “It felt good sometimes. Maybe all the time.”

  “What felt good?”

  “Beating on scumbags back in Brooklyn. Sometimes I…wanted to do it.” He swallowed the knot in his throat. “I started to like it too much. It was like a reprieve from thinking.”

  “Like my fire.” She nodded against him. “I understand.”

  “Tell me you know I’d never hurt you,” he begged her quietly. “Especially out of anger. Tell me.”

  “I know that,” she whispered.

  The frustration in his chest had eased, but as he leaned back and looked her over from head to toe, it took a different shape. A possessive one that, unlike the anger she’d soothed away, wouldn’t allow a similar fate. He let his gaze wander down her exposed stomach to end between her thighs. “Tempt a room full of men with what’s mine? You show me what you were tempting him with. I need to be the only one who sees.”

  Adrenaline sparkled, adding to Erin’s arousal. “Here? Outside?”

  “No.” Connor closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “If anyone else looks at you today but me, Erin, I won’t be responsible for my actions.”

  Her heart rate tripled. Look. He just wanted to look, not touch. It was so freeing, knowing he was aware of her limits. That he’d embraced them. She wanted to reward him for that. Wanted to ease the jagged edges she sensed she’d created inside him. So when Connor strode to the driver’s side and climbed inside, Erin followed with zero hesitation.

  Already she could see the outline of his erection in his jeans. He followed her gaze to where it pressed against his fly and squeezed it while she watched. Her breath escaped on a moan.

  “Climb up here on my lap and face the front.” He moved the seat back, giving them more room, before tucking his hands safely behind his head. Erin curled her fingers around the steering wheel and hefted herself up. She draped one leg over his farthest thigh and sank down into his lap. Connor growled into her hair. “Lose the jeans, sweetheart. Show me what those men were thinking about. Tight thighs that lead to a little pink pussy.” He bounced her on his lap once, twice. “They’ll all go home tonight and think about you bent over and pouting while they fuck their wives.”

  Erin felt like she’d been pulled under by a tidal wave. Wind rushed in through the open door, whipping throughout the car in a symphony of white noise. She shouldn’t be turned on by his words, but there was a naughtiness to them that stirred her up like nothing in her memory. Connor’s thickness pressed between her legs and she needed it closer. She unsnapped her jeans and leaned back onto his shoulder, pushing them down her hips.

  “That’s it. Good girl.” They both groaned when she sat back down on his lap, this time wearing only panties. “Now give me a dance. Tease me like you teased the men.”

  “No, I didn’t, I…” She braced her hands on the steering wheel and worked her hips in tight circles, contradicting her words. A whimper fell past her lips as lust winged her below her belly button. Her gaze strayed to the rearview and she saw that Connor had his bottom lip between his teeth. His hands were still tucked behind his head, making his arm muscles strain. Breathtaking man.

  “Enough. You’re the only one who gets to come today. If you keep that up, I’ll break that promise.” He jerked his hips beneath her. “Turn around.”

  Erin turned in his lap to straddle his hips, her breath catching at the sight of him. So intense. So commanding. Darkly sexual. “Why won’t you come?”

  “Punishment, Erin. It’s going to drive you crazy knowing how hard I am for the rest of the day, but I won’t let you do a damn thing about it.” A muscle ticked in his cheek. “This is for yesterday when you touched yourself in my goddamn bed. And it’s for today when you put yourself at risk.”

  Denial made her head spin. He was right. It would kill her. “Connor—”

  “Your shirt comes off next.” His gaze tracked down her throat and lingered on her tightened nipples. “I know they were looking at your tits. God knows I can’t take my fucking eyes off them.”

  An idea formed in the midst of the storm taking place within her. Right now, as close as they were, Connor had thrown up a barrier and she hated it. He might not allow her to give him pleasure, but what about the opposite? It might not work, it might end in disaster, but she had to try. With shaky fingers, she grasped the hem of her shirt and drew it over her head, tossing the garment onto the passenger seat.

  Connor’s attention was immediately captivated by her braless breasts, breath racing in and out past his lips. “Jesus, Erin. Could you get any more fucking beautiful?”

  The expression on his face was a mixture of awe and need, so potent it reached out and grabbed her by the throat. “Touch them with your mouth,” she whispered, ignoring the stabs of fea
r in her belly.

  His erection swelled against the inside of her thigh, making her gasp. “Sweetheart, no. That’s not what this is about.”

  “Don’t tell me no. I can feel how bad you want to.” She took her breasts in her hands and lifted them like an offering. “I want you to.”

  “God.” A masculine groan filled the car. “I spend every minute of the day wanting to touch you, Erin. If you get hurt or scared, I’m not going to handle it well when I can’t hold you. It’s going to fuck me up real bad. Please be sure.”

  Erin swallowed her doubts and anxiety, focusing on healing what had been damaged between them. She leaned close and dragged her right breast across his damp lips. Something broke inside him. His hands freed themselves from behind his head and turned to fists in midair. He licked his lips once before fastening his mouth to her breast and sucking, moaning roughly in his throat.

  The dreaded sound in her head stirred, like she’d poked the nest with a stick. It was quiet, though, tentative. Watchful. She couldn’t deny the reactions going off one by one throughout her body, muscles stiffening with the need to propel herself out the door. Her hands shot out to grasp both of his wrists. If he attempted to touch her now, it would be too much.

  Connor watched her through eyes bright and feverish. His lips moved sensually as they sucked, like waves lapping against the shoreline. He released her nipples with a pop, rolling his lips together as if to savor the taste. “It’s too much for you. I can see it.”

  “No, it’s not.” Her voice shook with determination, but she could see that Connor wasn’t convinced. Dammit, he hadn’t given her enough time to get used to it. He didn’t appear willing to try again, either, as much as he appeared to want it. She would have to convince him. Keeping their intertwined hands poised at their sides, Erin rose up on her knees and let her breasts hover in front of his face. Connor growled, his hips rolling beneath her, nudging her core with his erection. Slowly, she pressed her chest against his face and swayed, essentially burying his face between her peaked mounds. “Did you like being in my mouth last night?”

  His breath shuddered out, sending hot puffs of air over her sensitive skin. “You know I fucking loved it. I’ve never come that hard in my life. I shot off between those sexy lips, didn’t I?” His intense gaze collided with hers. “You took it just like a good girl is supposed to.”

  “Yes.” She whimpered when his open mouth raked over her nipple…and there was no noise inside her head. No fear. Only thick, decadent heat. Her pulse started to hammer, echoing in her ears. She needed him to use his mouth on her, but he was still holding back. “Can you suck me that good, Connor? Or maybe you don’t want to return the favor.”

  Her back hit the steering wheel, blasting the horn in a cut-off honk. Connor’s body didn’t pin her, but the fierceness radiating from him kept her rooted against the wheel. Still, there was only a minimal amount of panic. His wrists were still manacled by her hands and he was making no move to extricate himself. “I try to go slow, to protect you, and you challenge me in return? That’s a dangerous game to play with me, sweetheart.”

  “You’re not dangerous,” she breathed. “Not to me.”

  “No? It depends on your definition.” He brought his mouth over her left nipple and gave it one long lick. His voice was even, but his pupils had dilated and blocked out all the green. “Let me show you mine.”

  Erin moaned as he drew her nipple into his mouth, pulling on it hard. He released it and flicked it with rapid strokes of his tongue, before moving his attention to her other breast. An insane throbbing started in her belly and spread to the flesh between her legs. As if he could sense her sudden burning need for friction, he widened his thighs, forcing hers to do the same. The move left her aching core suspended over his ready bulge, hardness she knew would slake the growing pain if she could only reach it, but she couldn’t. Connor’s mouth worked her nipples, tugging, sucking, licking, even raking his teeth over the delicate buds.

  “God, I’ve been starving for these perky handfuls. I wanted to sit you down on my lap in that conference room and suck them in front of everyone.” He drew quick circles around one nipple. “I thought about how they would shake when I pounded the ever-loving fuck out of you. How they’d look dripping with my come. I’ll find out someday soon, won’t I, sweetheart?”

  “Yes,” she sobbed. The tug in her stomach had turned into a merciless squeeze, making her damp center clench, clench. The need for release had never been so overpowering. Her body shook under the effort to withstand it. If she could just bring her thighs together or get closer to his lap… “Please, I-I need your lap—”

  “I don’t want to return the favor, is that right?” He repeated her words back to her, before blowing on her nipples, shooting a bolt of shimmering pleasure to her midsection. “If you sit down on my hard cock right now, when I can finally taste your tits on my tongue, I’ll come in my jeans, Erin. And we’re not allowing that today. You’ll have to suffer with me.”

  “No,” she cried out, but the denial over the thought of his self-imposed suffering got lost in her desire to climax. One thing at a time. She needed to assuage the relentless throb…couldn’t think straight until she did. “Connor, I need you so bad.”

  His answer was to suck hard enough on her nipple that his cheeks hollowed. And then he pushed his thighs even farther apart on the seat, leaving her more exposed than before. Erin’s vision dimmed, then went achingly bright. Her heart beat like a tribal drum, thighs shaking violently. Need something. Need something to touch me. Before she could decipher her own intentions, she brought Connor’s hand between her legs, shoving it against the damp seam of her patnies and pressing.

  Connor’s body jolted beneath her, a loud growl ripping from this throat. The heel of his palm ground tightly against her, bringing the delicate seam into contact with her clit. “Oh my God. Right there. Please, don’t stop. Please.”

  “You’re goddamn right this pussy is the first place my hand touches you. I’m its owner, Erin. That’s why it feels so good.” He searched her face from beneath weighted eyelids, rough groans falling from his lips. “Come on, sweetheart. Work your sexy pussy on my hand and come in that tight thong. I need it as bad as you do.”

  His hand squeezed her. Hard. Erin screamed as the orgasm blasted her, bombarding her from all sides. She tried to ride it out by pumping her hips, but it had a mind of its own and it couldn’t be controlled. Connor’s mouth sealed over hers and instantly, a thread of calmness pervaded, even as the flesh between her thighs continued to spasm and weep. She focused on his mouth, the confidence in every stroke of his tongue, and it was glorious. But reality started knocking on the door, demanding to be let in. The beautiful afterglow of his touch, his taste started to set off alarm bells. She was getting too complacent. Never secure. Not even with him…security was impossible.

  She released his mouth on a gasp, taking in her position in one panicked glance. Pinned to the steering wheel, a big masculine hand between her legs. Keeping her there. The driver’s side door being open saved her marginally, but she couldn’t prevent her instincts from intruding, making her scramble off his lap into the passenger seat.

  “Erin, everything is okay. You’re here with me. Safe. Always safe.”

  Don’t trust him. They lie. Her fingers hammered at buttons, attempting to lower the window or unlock the door, but it wouldn’t work. The car roared to life beneath her and she stamped a hand over her mouth. Caught. I’m caught. Cool wind hit her in the face as the window rolled down and she sucked it into her depleted lungs. She buried her face in her hands, peeking out at her escape through parted fingers, trying to focus on it.

  “Look at me.”

  She jerked her attention back to Connor and felt some of the riotous tension flee from her chest. The stark misery etched into his face is what did it. What brought her back. Oh God, she’d fucked it up. Again. She took the shirt he offered her gently and dragged it over her head, wishing it covered her b
elly. When she glanced back at Connor, he was no longer in the driver’s seat. Gone. He left. I don’t blame him.

  After tugging her jeans back into place, she sank down further into the seat, wishing she could curl up and never move again. Before her pity party could turn into a full-blown barn burner, Connor appeared at the passenger door and opened it only after her nod. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s take the bus home.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Connor had never been out of the Bronx for longer than a couple hours until he enlisted with the navy. At first, it had been because his family couldn’t afford vacations, or hell, even a trip to Ellis Island, on his father’s disability check. Connor couldn’t remember a time when his father hadn’t sat on their living room couch, bitter and disgusted with the world. Demanding meals, arguing with his insurance provider on the phone, drinking. Always, the drinking.

  His father’s penchant for imbibing too much whiskey and turning violent had been the latter reason Connor hadn’t strayed too far from the Bronx. Maybe at one time he’d been too young to protect his mother, but around age thirteen, that had drastically changed. Over the course of a summer, he’d outgrown his father in every way possible. He’d started to meet the fists that had been flying at his mother since he could remember with blows of his own. He could still remember the first time he stopped his father’s fist in midair and felt bones creak in protest against his palm. Connor felt no shame admitting there had been ample satisfaction in seeing his father’s shock.

  By age sixteen, Connor thought he’d had his father handled. There was an unspoken threat that if something happened to his mother ever again, Connor would make him sorry. His father had even cut back on the drinking, even attending the odd AA meeting. It had been a rare snippet of time in their household where it had felt almost peaceful. His mother, Joanna, had started to smile again. Started going back to church since she didn’t have to hide the black eyes anymore. He’d gotten comfortable, even dating a couple girls in his sophomore class.