Anything For You

Huh. Mixed praise.

He followed her through the restaurant, noticing the looks she got from men and women both, and wondered if she knew how beautiful she was. He didn’t think so. Or if she did, it didn’t make a lot of difference to her.

At the elevators, she turned to him and thanked him once again.

“Maybe I’ll see you at home,” he said.

“Probably,” she said. “Small town and all that.”

He looked at her another minute. “Take care of yourself. And Davey.” Then he hugged her for the second time in his life, and this time, her arms went around his waist.

Her hair was as silky as he thought.

He turned his head just a little, to breathe in the smell of her lemony shampoo, and then he felt her cheek against his, and he wished he’d shaved today, because her skin was so soft.

Then their lips were touching, just brushing, not really a kiss at all, and that wouldn’t do, not when he was so close to finally, finally kissing Jessica Dunn.

He cupped the back of her head and went for it. Her lips were full and soft under his, a perfect fit, and it was so, so good.

And she kissed him back. Her mouth was lush, but the kiss was innocent and gentle and a little shy, and Connor didn’t want anything more than that—such a lie—but it was enough, it was so much... Jessica Dunn against him, her lips on his.

Then she stepped back.

“Sorry.” He cleared his throat.

“I should... I...” She ran a hand through her hair, not looking at him. “Sorry about that. A guy buys me dinner, I guess it’s a reflex.”

He wasn’t sure she was insulting him or herself. Her hand was shaking, he noticed.

“It was good seeing you,” he said.

“You, too.” She pushed the button for the elevator. “Take care.”

He nodded once then turned and walked away.

Shit, shit, shit. Whatever he’d just done had been all wrong. She probably hated him more than ever now. She told him she’d wanted a night alone, but he’d gone ahead and accepted what had probably been an obligatory offer, and then he’d kissed her as if he deserved something, and seriously, he would never get it right where she was.

“Connor?”

He turned so suddenly he almost fell. She was still there, looking at him, not smiling. “Yeah?”

“Do you want to come up?”

She was very still. Frozen, really. Then she bit her lip.

She was nervous.

“Yes,” he said, very, very quietly. “If you’re sure.”

The elevator doors opened behind her. She glanced back, then looked at him again. “I am.”

And much to his surprise, she smiled, and it caught him right in the gut, as strong as a punch and almost painful.

Almost not trusting her words, he walked back to her, and she grabbed the pocket of his coat and pulled him into the elevator, pushed 11, and they were kissing again before the doors even closed, and she tasted so good, like apples and lemon and that hint of wine, and he was already drunk with wanting her before they hit the eleventh floor. When the doors opened again, he just picked her up and carried her out into the hall, smiling as she laughed against his mouth.

She fumbled for her room key, inserted it upside down, then got it right, and they were inside. She stopped for a second. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” she said then kissed him again, shoving his coat off his shoulders, and Connor had never wanted a woman as much as he wanted her. She was lean and strong and soft in all the right places, and she smelled so good and clean, like lemons and cilantro. He kissed her neck, tasting her skin, and she yanked his shirt out of his jeans.

“Wait,” he said, his voice hoarse.

“There are condoms in the drawer,” she said. “Full-service hotel.”

“Just...wait.”

He was already breathing hard, his heart crashing against his ribs. His body was telling him to just tumble her back on the bed and get her naked and into her as fast as possible.

“Change your mind?” she said, and there was an edge in her voice.

“God, no.”

“Then what?” The three feet away face was already in place.

“I want to look at you,” he said.

Something in her eyes flickered.

He stepped forward again. His shirt was open, thanks to her quick fingers, but she was completely dressed. Her sea-glass eyes slid away from his, then back, and he cupped her face in his hands, smoothing his thumbs across her high cheekbones. Her lashes were soft and feathery. He touched her lips with one finger, then bent to kiss her, softly, softly, then the corner of her mouth, her cheeks, her nose, and back to her soft, pink mouth.

When Connor was a kid, he’d seen a coyote take a rabbit from the woods near their house. He ran after it, even knowing the rabbit was already dead, only to find a baby rabbit there in the leaves, its sides heaving with terror. Connor picked it up and felt its heart flying under his fingers, the animal terrified, but safe. He took it home and fed it from an eyedropper. It had taken a week before the animal trusted him.

It was kind of the same feeling now.

Jessica, for all her bravado and impenetrability, seemed to be a little...scared.

He kissed her neck, gently, slowly, and slid his hands under her sweater. Unhooked her bra and skimmed her skin, then slowly pulled the sweater over her head. Looked at her.

She was perfect. The pulse in her throat was visible, and fast.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, and then he sat on the bed and tugged her down with him. He held her hands over her head, and kissed her for a long, long time, tasting her, learning her mouth. Then he let her hands go, smiling as they buried into his hair. Bit by bit, he undressed the rest of her, taking his time, tracing every bit of skin he saw, tasting it.

“You’re killing me here,” she whispered, her breath ragged, and he lifted his head and smiled, and after a second, she smiled back. It wrapped around his heart, that smile, hot and tugging. “Hurry up, Connor O’Rourke.”

This was one of those moments of honest-to-God perfection, and he wasn’t going to rush through it. No.

He took his time instead.

There were no complaints.

* * *