Destination Connelly (8 page)

She doesn’t reply, but her face says it all. Of course, he’s asked. He’s probably fucked half the city of Chicago by now and propositioned the rest.

Pussy-hopping bastard.

I have to admit, a big part of me hurts to see him casually churn through the female population as if they’re easily expendable. It shouldn’t. It’s none of my business anymore. But I’m also not sure if it would hurt worse to see him happily married with a family of his own either, so I’m trying not care either way because caring makes me invested.

And getting invested in Connelly Colloway is something I cannot allow myself to do, especially after this little revelation. It just reinforces my resolve to stay aloof and as far away from him as possible.

C
onn

“
H
ow long will
the integration take?”

“Everything is business as usual right now,” I answer truthfully. I haven’t given one thought to assimilating SER into Wynn yet beyond getting the handful of executives and Nora to Chicago. My only plans have revolved around how soon I can get Nora tied to my bed and sated. Once that happens, I can move on to the SER acquisition specifics. Besides, fully integrating two organizations can take months, years even, and those kinds of changes need to be strategically planned and executed, not rushed.

“Will our duties change?”

“No, not in the near term, but that will inevitably happen in some departments. We’ll all need to work together when it does.” My gaze flicks to Nora, who’s sitting stone-faced; her eyes won’t meet mine. We’ve been having a discussion about the combination of our two organizations for almost two hours now and she’s yet to ask one question. “We’ll give plenty of notice before they do.”

“How will new recruiting cases be assigned, Mr. Colloway?” Jeanine, one of my top recruiters asks innocently enough. Jeanine is a good employee, but she is as bloodthirsty a woman as I’ve ever run across. I don’t miss her jealous glance in Nora’s direction, though. Neither does Nora.

I can see the marking of territories has already started. Nora remains passive, but gives an almost imperceptible shake of her head, like she expected this. Then her eyes finally meet mine for the first time since she walked through the door nearly two hours ago.

She’s waiting on my response as anxiously as Jeanine is. Thank Jesus I’m sitting down because I have to mentally talk my cock into deflating as I stare into her bewitching jade eyes.

Fuck
. I want her so damn much, it’s hard to think straight. The second she walked into the crowded conference room at five minutes to one, dressed in a conservative, but curve-hugging peach dress, the ache I’ve felt in every part of my being intensified. It throbs now, almost out of control.

“We’ll make those decisions as they come up,” I reply to Jeanine, but my smoldering gaze never strays from Nora’s, my mind whirling with one wicked, sinful thing I plan to do to her after the other…once I get her underneath me. Which will be tonight if I have my way.

My answer hits with a resounding thud in front of Jeanine. Out of my peripheral, I see she does a piss-poor job of hiding her annoyance. If she’s unhappy now, her talons will really unleash when I announce that Nora will be assigned to one of our biggest and most important clients who called yesterday to let me know their CEO is retiring and they need to replace her. In the past, I would have assigned a case like this to Jeanine. I will be giving it to Nora instead.

And I’ll be personally overseeing it.

“Next question,” I say when Nora finally looks away.

The insecurities and anxieties continue to be lobbed for the next hour and a half. I continue to watch Nora, but she never makes eye contact with me again. My annoyance spikes. It’s getting harder and harder to tuck it down.

Your evasion is going to fucking stop, princess.

“Once again,” I start, anxious to end this so I can get a minute alone with Nora. “A warm welcome to our new SER family. I have no doubt our Wynn family will be nothing but gracious in welcoming you all. And to that end, you’re all invited for a celebration this evening. We’ll have cocktails and heavy hors d’oeuvres starting at six-thirty. Lydia will have the information on your way out. I expect to see you all there.”

Everyone rises and starts chattering, but the one person my attention is riveted on is Nora. I watch her effortlessly chat up Brad Harding, the SER COO. Their heads are close together and with the heated way his eyes graze over her body whenever she looks away, he is either intimately familiar with her or he wants to be.

Irrational hate burns through me, and my vision instantly fogs with violent, possessive jealousy.

She.

Belongs.

To.

Me.

I’ve done nothing for the past two weeks other than soul-searching, allowing myself to remember and, more importantly, deal with the deep hurt I’ve held inside for years at her bullshit breakup phone call. After seeing her again, after I’ve acknowledged that all I want is her, all I’ve ever
wanted
is her, and all I will
ever
want is her, I now want all of that resentment, hurt, and anger gone.

I’m tired of being buried, suffocating under its oppressive weight.

I
want
to forgive her. I want it all washed away by the pure love and raw ache I’ve always held for this woman. Eleven years, wasted. I’ve fought hard to forget her, all the while secretly pining away for her instead. I may not know the real reasons she left me, and I know that’s an inevitable conversation we’ll need to have. We both have confessions. We both need to clear the air so we can look to the future unencumbered, but I find I’m not even sure I care what the answers are anymore because I’m not letting her go.

Ever.

And I’m sure as hell not letting some other man move in on
my
turf right the fuck in front of me.

Oh, fuck no.

“Nora, can I speak to you for a minute?” I bark when I see her moving toward the door with his mitt at the small of her back. That possessive gesture is implied universal guy code for letting every other cock in the vicinity know “this woman’s with me, stay in your steel cage, fuckers,” and I swear by all that I own if Mr. Operations doesn’t remove that hand in the next two seconds I’ll break it the fuck off.

No one has the right to touch her but me.

Not now. Not ever again.

They both turn their heads. Harding must feel the sharp, cutting sting of the daggers I’m visually hurling; he drops his hand not a moment too soon.

Nora turns back to him, saying something I can’t hear before he gives me a tight smile, then leaves with everyone else. Once the last person has shut the door behind them, she shifts to me, irritation written all over her beautiful face. She’s not even trying to hide it.

Well, join the fucking club, sweetheart. Water’s a sweltering, unforgivable hundred twenty degrees right about now. I push the boil below the surface, keeping my outer pretense calm.

“You know, if you keep calling me after class, people will start thinking I’m the teacher’s pet.”

Her smart comment instantly grounds the electricity crackling the air, making me chuckle. I let an amused smile curl my lips. “You are.”

No sense in sugar coating it any longer.

I want her.

I need her.

Fuck…I
will
have her.

Her aloof façade slips for a moment and I glimpse a genuine smile. The first I’ve seen from her in so many years. Christ, it’s so heady it’s as if pure, undiluted oxygen was just pumped directly into my bloodstream.

“Brilliant counterproposal you made, by the way.”

She watches me contemplatively for a few heartbeats. She’s trying to figure out how to respond. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

I tamp down my smile. “It was a smart move, Nora. You should own it.”

An impish smile curls her glossy lips. “You seemed desperate,” she finally counters. That’s all I would get from her, but it was an admission nonetheless. And I was. Desperate. Desperate to get my hands on
her
.

“Desperation implies recklessness, and I assure you I am anything but reckless. I just know what I want, I know how to get it, and I make no apology for it.”

Cocking her head slightly, she asks, “Did you want something, Connelly, or did you just want to lord your power over me again?”

Did I mention how I’ve always loved that she uses my full name while most everyone else just calls me Conn? Every time those three syllables roll from her tongue, I start to swell.

A ghost of a smile crosses my face. “You know what I’ve always loved about you, Nora?” I ask, slowly closing the distance she’s intentionally tried putting between us.

I don’t miss the widening of her eyes at my specific choice of words. I could have used any number of adjectives besides loved. Liked. Admired. Respected. But I chose that one with intent. And it didn’t escape her perceptivity.

“My feistiness?” she replies a little nervously. Good, I want to keep her on her toes. Actually, I’d love to keep her on her back. Naked. Legs spread.

“Mmmm, yes.” I nod absently. “That always made me stone fucking hard.” I luxuriate in her sharp intake of breath at my bold statement.
Oh, princess, I’m only getting started.
“But that’s not what I was thinking just now.”

With every step I take toward her, she shifts uncomfortably. I have to give her credit, though. She doesn’t move an inch, holding her ground. I’ll bet those stubborn spikes are firmly rooted, even as bad as she’s itching to rip them from the floorboards and flee. But her mulishness is no match for me and
my
resolve. I’ll shred her righteous determination into so many goddamned splinters they’ll all be embedded in
me
. Lost to her forever because I’m not fucking giving them back. Then I will own her, just like she owns me, whether she realizes it or not.

I stop right in front of her, our toes almost touching.

Breathing deep, I take her perfumed scent into my lungs. Standing this close to her, it’s hard to control myself. My fists open and close at my sides, when all I want to do is brush her hair aside and nip the graceful length of her neck before sinking my teeth into the crook, marking her. I want to dig my fingers into her hips and yank her roughly into me so she can feel for herself how hard she makes me.

Fuck it
, I decide. Self-restraint is overrated.

Reaching up, I frame her cheek and run my thumb over the plush lower lip she’s painted with berry-red gloss, smearing the stickiness on my finger.

“Stop,” she breathes unconvincingly. Her body tenses, but she makes no move to pull out of my grip. In fact, I think I may even feel her lean into it. Her words and her actions are a veritable contradiction.

I drop my voice to just above a whisper, ignoring her weak request. “What I loved is how your expressive eyes always told the truth even when your lying mouth didn’t. And that hasn’t changed. One. Bit.”

My gaze drops to her lips. I watch her little pink tongue dart out to wet them. I groan softly, unable to hold it in.

“Connelly, I work for you now. This is wro—”

“And do you know what I see floating in them now, princess?” I continue, steamrolling right over her pathetic protest. Snaking my free hand around her waist, I tug her into me, pressing her pelvis into my throbbing erection. I just about come on the spot when her eyes fall shut and my name escapes her lips on a low exhale. I deserve some fucking award for not ripping off her clothes right now and pounding into her with the raw primal lust that’s screaming
“claim mark claim
.
”

Leaning down, I torture myself further by skating my lips over her cheek, punctuating each word with light kisses down her jaw. “Desire. Craving. Biting hunger that eats at your resolve to deny me.”

Her breath catches hard and fast. It’s sweet, sublime acknowledgment that makes my cock twitch.

Darting my tongue out to lick the delicate skin underneath her ear, I pull her closer, let my hand cup her curvaceous ass. I tease the seam between her globes. Her breathlessness tests every last shred of restraint I’m hanging on to. My fingers are bruised and bloody with the amount of sheer will I’m tapping into right now.

“I can almost hear your silent plea begging for my mouth, for my touch, for my cock, Nora. Mine.
No one
else’s.”

“No…”

I pull back and grasp her face between my long fingers. Her emeralds remain squeezed shut, intentionally denying me the truth I know I’ll see in the shadows.

“Look at me.”

She shakes her head. I tighten my grip, my infamous control slipping. Who the fuck am I kidding? It’s been nearly gone since the second I saw her again and I don’t think I’ll be able to reclaim it until I reclaim her.

I haven’t been the same since this woman walked out of my life. I’ve loved her with every part of me all these years. What I feel for her is that once-in-a-lifetime, soul-destroying, I-can’t-live-a-fucking-second-without-this-person love that my brothers talk about, but I denied believing in.

Until now.

“Open your eyes, Nora,” I growl, my incensed tone leaving no room for argument.

When she finally submits, they blaze hot with everything I’ve described and then some. She knows I see it.

“Are you wet for me, princess?” I growl, breathing deeply. I know she is. Her intoxicating scent lands on my taste buds, making my mouth water. It’s driving me fucking mad.

“This is not foreplay, Connelly.” Her eyes are dark and stormy, but transparent as glass. And I see right through all her bullshit.

“Tell me, Nora, if I slide my hand underneath your skirt right now and run my fingers along the seam of your panties, will I find them soaked with…foreplay?”

Her lids drop briefly before opening to meet mine again.
Yeah, that’s what I thought, sweetheart.

“Now who’s being unprofessional?” she chokes, swallowing hard.

“Oh, this is entirely fucking personal, and I think we both know that. Don’t we?”

Her chin is still firmly in my hand and her eyes dart back and forth between mine. She opens her mouth to lie to me. Again. I can feel it. See it. Taste the bitter fumes before they tumble from her deceitful lips. And I want to punish her for it until she confesses the truth, then comes all over my cock.

“Connelly, what we had is over.”

Lies. Every word.

I’ve spent a lot of time studying people and their superficially innocent signs of dishonesty. While some people won’t shut the hell up and would rather listen to themselves talk for hours on end, I’m that quiet sleeper in the corner who doesn’t say much. I’d rather spend my valuable time observing others instead. Listen to what’s
not
being said. Silence is the most powerful tool in the arsenal of communication. At the end of the day, that skill garners me far more than plugging empty space with unnecessary bullshit.