For Her Protection: An Alpha Romance Page 6

  “But it won’t just be proving myself will it?” His hand moved to her thigh. Through her skirt it seared. “I’d be proving it to you too. Proving that right now while you stand here questioning, suspicious, protecting yourself with lies, you’re desperate for me.”

  Her blood seemed to thicken, getting hot and heavy in her breasts, and between her legs.

  “You’re so hot I can practically smell it.”

  She gasped through her nose, for an instant thinking maybe he had some way of scenting the pheromones she must be throwing off like crazy. Because her entire system was going wild—savage and primitive in a way that meant right now of the two of them, she was the barbaric one.

  She closed her eyes. “Fucking prove it then.”

  Only the strangled sound of his breathing filtered between them. She swallowed and opened her eyes. Mistake. Connor’s gaze fixed on her. She couldn’t help meeting it, couldn’t look away, couldn’t do anything except fall prey to his scrutiny, to the power he had over her.

  That gaze told her one thing—Connor didn’t bluff.

  He grasped the back of her neck, and hauled her towards him. She turned her face, so his lips only skimmed her cheek.

  “Really?” His fingers tightened, and his voice was almost a chuckle. “This is how you want to play it?”

  Resistant?

  Is that what he meant? He tugged at her ponytail holder and yanked it out, then his hand was buried in her hair.

  Yes. She wanted him—wanted this so badly. The resistance was on the inside. Deep inside. Under the arousal, under it all she was scared.

  Scared of being rejected. Scared that this was a game.

  He yanked on her hair, forced back her face, and there was no choice but to look at him. See his expression thick with desire.

  “Sure you want this?”

  Her breath rushed fast. She hadn’t know this was something she’d like. Hadn’t known the way it’d feel to have a man like him grab her roughly, as though he couldn’t restrain himself. The desperation, the edge of force he used, as though he’d do anything to have her and couldn’t contain the desire.

  And it was very freaking validating.

  Very freaking hot.

  She nodded as far as she could with his fist gripping her hair. He leaned in, his mouth so close but didn’t kiss her. Almost as though he punished her for having turned from him. He reached his other hand and grabbed the edge of her skirt and worked it up.

  His palm traveled the outside of her thigh, and goosebumps rose up over her skin. “You’re going to have to be real, fucking clear. I’m not prepared to misinterpret.”

  Double checking permission took the teeth out of the fantasy, but it didn’t take the bite off the sting in her scalp. Didn’t take the edge off his hungry expression.

  Didn’t make her feel one bit less desired.

  She made a sound she couldn’t recognize as one she’d make, low and yearning. “Connor, I want this.”

  He gripped her ass, holding her tight for a moment, before spinning her around. He was right there—behind her. His heat radiated against her legs.

  He eased her forward, gently, even though his grip in her hair was tight, until her palms landed flat on her glass desk. Her heart raced. Her insides tightened. He pressed on the small of her back, lowering her until her body rested completely on the desk. She suddenly felt far too vulnerable, far too exposed, bent and waiting, skirt around her hips.

  Her breath shook and she closed her eyes.

  “Sure you want this? I won’t ask again.”

  The glass cooled her burning cheek and she breathed deeply. “Yes.”

  She expected him to rip off her underwear, undo his fly and take her hard. Instead his fingers brushed the back of her knees then he caressed her slowly, inching up her thighs. He drew down her panties as though he was unveiling a gift. Air kissed her backside and she bit her lip, not wanting the moan of anticipation to escape.

  “Holy shit, baby.” He groaned and cupped her ass, squeezing it with both hands. “This ass…you have no idea what I’ve dreamed of doing to this ass.”

  Her body shook at his words, her nipples could have cracked the desk. Her ass, she hadn’t let a man see naked in over a year—he wanted it.

  He ran a hand between her legs and stroked her.

  She groaned, pushing off the desk, wanting him to touch her properly.

  “Down,” he said, and kept control of her hair. “You don’t move until I say you can.”

  She choked back a moan and forced her body flat. His fingers moved between her lips, stroking over her slick, wet sex. She gasped, and turned to rest her forehead against the glass.

  “See how I’m keeping my word?” His voice was rich and thick behind her. “Proving what a little liar you are.”

  His hand moved back to her backside, and he gripped her cheek. “You are so hot for me aren’t you?”

  “Yeah.” But she didn’t need to admit anything, because he slid his touch back through the proof of her arousal, and touched her clit. He circled her bundle of nerves until the muscles in the backs of her thighs felt as if they would snap. Her hips ached to move, and to buck.

  “I bet you could come in a few strokes.”

  He suddenly pressed down, giving her a few hard swipes over her engorged nub. Her nerves shot with pleasure and inched toward explosion. Her chest rose from the table with the air she gulped. Then his fingers were gone, once more kneading her ass, spreading her cheeks apart.

  She knew he looked at her, looked at her where he shouldn’t. Need outweighed, outplayed and out-mastered inhibition.

  “But you’re not going to come so easy are you? You’re going to wait ‘til I say, aren’t you?”

  He pushed two fingers into her entrance—hard. He rocked inside her, rocked right over a place she didn’t know she had. She brought her knuckles to her mouth, a silent scream parting her lips.

  Her mind dissolved, floated into white space. Then his fingers were gone again and his hand came down on the soft flesh of her bottom with a snap. Her chest shook.

  “Won’t you?” he demanded.

  “Yes, yes I will,” she swore.

  His fingers returned, driving into her, seeking out the hidden places inside her and commanding them. Muscles in her abdomen, her back, her chest, her skin curled, contracted, guttural moans wrung their way out of her. He pounded her with two long fingers, like no fingering she’d ever had. This wasn’t that—this wasn’t foreplay—this was a fuck.

  He withdrew from her and she butted her forehead against the desk, her hands curling against her cheeks.

  “You ready to come now, kitten?”

  She gasped, and panted. Blood pounded in her ears. “Oh, fuck.”

  “You’re not too shy to ask for it are you?” He skimmed her with two fingers. “You weren’t shy when you asked me to kiss you in a bar full of people, were you?” He moved to her clit again, and everything went bright. “No, you were a wicked demanding girl.”

  “Now—yes.” She wasn’t sure she’d made sense but he continued caressing her, gently around her clit, too gently to tip her over the edge. Sweat coated her skin. She wanted to cry. Wanted to come.

  He pushed back into her and she sank her teeth into the skin of her hand hard enough to sting. His fingers rocked in her pussy and his thumb slipped up behind, pressed against her puckered rear entrance. Her whole body jerked and she pushed up off her elbows.

  He growled, “do you want me to stop?”

  His fingers moved against the spongy center of pleasure inside her and his thumb gently pulsed against her ass. Sensation ravaged her, she could barely form words. Sweat ran from her cheek down to her lips.

  “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

  He picked up speed and she gave a low moan.

  “I want you to give it all up, Charlie.”

  What the fuck did he mean? Her entire body seemed to turn inside out. What wasn’t she giving?

  A moan tor
e through her, and she lost control of her extremities. Her fingers clawed the desk. Her thighs spasmed.

  He made a growling sound and hammered her with his fingers. He released her hair and moved his other hand between her legs from the front and stroked her. The world shrank, imploded. Her vision blurred and she convulsed. Her body shook, her forehead rattled against the desk. Strangled noises that somehow sounded distant crawled out of her.

  She sagged, the world swirled. His fingers slowed, became a soothing caress inside and out as her breathing regulated. His hands left her. She lay against the desk, her eyes closed. He’d fuck her now, while she was spent. She didn’t know how she’d take it but still she couldn’t wait.

  He gently smoothed her skirt down over her behind. She blinked. How was he going to give it to her with her skirt down? He hovered over her and stroked his knuckles over her damp cheek before scooping her from the desk. She didn’t have the energy to move, just let him guide her into his arms.

  His lips touched hers like a whisper, brushing lightly over them. Her eyes opened. He wore an expression she couldn’t understand, something too soft. His lips moved again and he kissed her. His tongue ventured into her mouth, only a gentle caress of warmth. She melted into him, brushing her fingers over the stubble of his jaw.

  He pulled away and guided her face into his neck. She breathed his scent, let it fill her to her center, wanting to take in everything she could of him.

  “See, baby, if you trust me, I’ll give you what you need.”

  His words washed over her, made her still-pulsing body grow a little warmer but she was too limp to react. She let him hold her until she could draw a full breath again.

  Connor held open the door to the rear exit and Charlie stepped through. The lights glowed dim yellow and silence stretched through the lot. She backed up, bumping into the body behind her. She swallowed, her mouth going dry. They’d parked the car too far away, too close to where it had been the night before when two guys had jumped her. It’d looked so much more innocent in the morning light.

  Connor wrapped his arm around her waist and drew her against his side. “It’s okay. I’ve got your back.”

  His hand moved against her stomach and she leaned into him, let him lead her to the car.

  Charlie gazed across the lot, tapping the tip of her thumbnail against her teeth. The change between them was palpable. A weight rested in her chest, so heavy it was a wonder she could sit upright. She wanted to cry—like sob curled up in a ball cry—and she couldn’t understand why.

  Connor started the engine. Vibrations rocked through the car. She closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the sensation of being in something so sturdy, inhaling the mild gasoline smell that wafted from the massive engine. Connor’s car suited him. Powerful, hot and a little dirty.

  He pulled onto the street and rested his hand on her knee. “Everything alright?”

  She opened her eyes and turned her head. He looked at her as if he was her god-damned concerned boyfriend. The weight in her chest got a little heavier, making it hard to speak.

  Connor—her boyfriend. The idea caused the sweetest and most painful ache. “I need to stop somewhere on the way home.”

  “Okay.”

  She gave him the directions and stared out the window at the city rushing by. She’d been so incredibly stupid and naïve to think the betrayal she’d suffered in her last relationship had made her impenetrable. That she’d somehow be able to separate the intimacy of the body and the heart.

  And what if this was all some kind of set-up.

  Frank had made it clear he’d do whatever it took to stay in control of Halifax. He’d already proved he’d play dirty.

  What if he wanted Connor to get close to her…butter her up.

  Talk her around.

  Her emotions were already opening up to him, softening to him. And they hadn’t even had sex.

  Yet.

  He stroked the skin on the inside of her knee. She tried not to focus on his touch, tried not to want his caresses to inch up higher, to want him intimately again. She had no idea what he wanted from her. There’d be no letting Connor inside her—without letting him inside her. She’d only ever been with one man, Simon, and as much as she’d hoped to evolve to the point she could take pleasure where and when she needed it without getting emotionally involved, apparently she was still the same romantic she’d been years before.

  Romantics get their hearts crushed.

  She glanced at Connor. Already she wanted to crawl across the seat and plant her lips all over his skin. She couldn’t continue with him without ending up wanting more.

  The car pulled up on the curb next to a row of luxurious townhomes.

  “Is this it?”

  Charlie glanced at the familiar buildings.

  “Yeah.” She unbuckled her seatbelt and curled her fingers around the door handle. “I need you to wait here for a while. I won’t be long, maybe half an hour.”

  Connor leaned across her, holding the door closed, without saying a word.

  “It’s a secure building. No one can get in. You can keep watch out here.”

  He leaned back, his expression hardening.

  She could totally see him in his cop days. He would have been the “bad” cop without having to open his mouth.

  “It’s called privacy. I believe I’m entitled to have some.”

  His mouth evened. “Not while I’m around.”

  “What if you won’t like what you see?” Charlie met his gaze.

  “If you’re going to see another man, say so right now.” In the dark of the car his eyes seemed black.

  What would he do if she was? He looked as if he’d kill the other guy, but why? Possessiveness, or did he care?

  But she wouldn’t mess with him to find out.

  “It’s my father’s apartment.” She swallowed and leaned back into her seat. “He doesn’t know about what’s happening with the threats. I can’t tell him, so I also can’t explain you.”

  Connor didn’t move, but the touch on her knee softened. “Then tell him we’re together. That will do.”

  Together.

  It sounded far too good and if she did say those words, she might just believe they were true.

  “I’d rather not explain you at all.”

  “Not an option.”

  Charlie tugged on the door handle. “Fine but you don’t say anything about anything—especially about work.”

  He gave her a hard stare. “I’m a vault.”

  SIX

  Connor followed Charlie into the penthouse apartment. For all the luxury, the building struck him as off. He’d remained at her back, watchful as always but his skin crawled the same way it did when he entered a prison block. Too much security, locked doors, security pads, cameras, not an exit or window that looked easy to get out of.

  “Dad?” Charlie set her keys down on a large hall table, her heels echoing on the polished wood floor.

  The scent of cigar smoke clung to the walls and furniture. She ran her fingertips over the back of an antique velvet couch as they stepped into an expansive sitting room.

  A man sat in a green high-backed armchair, ankle resting on one knee, dressed as if he was at some fancy-ass country club in a three-piece-suit.

  He glanced up from his paper. “You finishing work early these days?”

  He spoke gruffly but he put his arm out and Charlie moved to his side and planted her full lips on his cheek.

  “It’s six-thirty, Dad.”

  “I never finished before eight.” The man’s gaze landed on Conner. “Who’s this?”

  Charlie stood next to her father, whose greying, dark hair looked as if it’d once been the same raven as hers.

  “Dad, this is my…” She wrung the strap of her bag with one hand and glanced between the two men. “My boyfriend, Connor.” She released the strap and looked at him, a slight line between her brows. “Conner, this is my father, William Halifax.”

  Connor step
ped forward and extended his hand. “Sir.”

  William clasped his hand, putting enough strength behind his grasp to let Connor know the man may be older but not frail.

  “At least this one has manners.” William turned to Charlie. “I thought you were engaged to that schmuck, Simon?”

  Engaged?

  The word punched him in the chest, spread rage through his ribcage. He forced the anger down. So she’d had a life… He’d had one too. But she’d been engaged—recently by the sound of it.

  Fuck. He hated the idea of someone else’s hands on her. From now on there’d only be his.

  Charlie went rigid then squeezed her father’s shoulder. “No, Dad, I told you we broke up.”

  William blinked again, gaze hazy.

  “Did you?” He shook his head. “Well I’m glad to hear it. That boy could never keep up with you.” He looked at Connor. “Captain of the girls football team, you know.”

  He gestured to the mantel.

  Connor turned. Well, look at that. Above the fireplace trophies lined the entire mantel. Football, and what was that? Archery? He itched for a closer look.

  “Dad, honestly…” Charlie gave her father a pleading glare.

  “This one looks like he could. You’ve got a military look about you.”

  Connor shook his head and folded himself into a two-seater. “Former detective. In security now.”

  “I’ll make tea.” Charlie left the room.

  William nodded. “So, there much money in security these days?”

  Connor didn’t blink at the question. He’d been a cop long enough to know when someone was trying to throw him off.

  “There is when you own the company.”

  William tossed his paper onto the table. “You’re not threatened by a woman who earns more than you?”

  Connor cleared his throat. That was yet to be proven. “Why would I be?”

  Deep furrows fanned around William’s amber eyes. “Don’t go getting any ideas about my girl. She doesn’t have time for distractions, she has a job to do, and it’s to run Halifax .”

  A surge of defensiveness rose in his gut but he held it at bay. He didn’t intend to distract her from her job.