“Not a problem. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do to help.”
Connor hung up and then noticed he had a missed call from his dad. He winced. It had been several days since he’d talked to Pop, a fact that wouldn’t make the old man very happy.
“I hear there’s some serious bodyguarding going on over there and that you’ve taken a personal interest in a certain pop star’s body,” Pop rumbled as soon as he picked up the phone.
Connor shook his head. Trust gossip to have already reached his ears. “She’s the one, Pop.”
He could practically hear his dad grinning through the phone.
“Well, I’ll be damned. That’s great, son. You two got things worked out?”
Connor frowned and looked back toward the bed where Lyric was curled into a ball, her arm thrown over his pillow. “Not yet, but we’ll get there.”
“Good things shouldn’t be easy. You’ll work hard at it, and it’ll be all the sweeter for it.”
Connor shook his head. Pop was so full of shit. Good as gold, but he had something to say for every occasion.
“Bring her home for Sunday dinner. She should see what she’s getting into.”
Connor laughed. “We’ll get to that eventually. Right now we have more important fish to fry.”
Pop made a disgruntled sound. “What’s more important than my Sunday lasagna?”
“Faith and Gray have spoiled you by catering to your neuroses.”
“At least they eat with me every weekend. Well, when they can.”
“And I don’t?”
“Well, sure you do. But you’re single, and no single guy turns down free food. The test is when you have a beautiful woman at home as to whether you’ll give your old man the time of day anymore.”
Connor rolled his eyes. “Like I’ll ever get rid of you, old fart.”
Pop’s raspy chuckle filled Connor’s ear. “Damn straight. I plan for you and Faith to visit me in the old folks’ home when I’m old and toothless.”
“You already are old and toothless.”
“Don’t make come over there and kick your ass.”
Connor laughed. “Okay, Pop. Let me go. Take care of yourself.”
“Will do. Give my love to Lyric and tell her welcome to the family.”
With a smile, Connor disconnected the call. He’d love nothing more than to welcome Lyric to his family, but he wasn’t going to get ahead of himself. Right now he was just happy Lyric hadn’t run the other direction when he’d expressed a desire for them to be together.
With a look at the bed where Lyric was sleeping, he pulled on a robe and crept out of the bedroom and down to fill Kane in on the latest developments. Kane promised to do some investigating on his own. Connor intended to devote his time and energy solely to Lyric.
When he returned a few minutes later, he shed the robe and crawled back into bed with Lyric. She stirred and snuggled up close to him, breathing a soft sigh of contentment.
“Sleep well?” he murmured.
“The best night’s sleep I’ve had in longer than I can remember,” she admitted.
“Good. You needed to catch up.”
“Who was on the phone? Is everything okay?”
“It was the lieutenant who handled R.J. and Trent’s arrests. They confessed to leaving the notes.”
Her lips twisted into a perplexed frown. “But why? I don’t understand.”
Connor related what the lieutenant had told him and she shook her head. “That’s pretty pathetic, but what’s even more pathetic is that I was involved with those clowns. That I trusted them.”
He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Quit beating yourself up. It’s all in the past. You won’t let it happen again.”
“Damn right,” she said with a grin. Then she reached up to touch his face. “What should we do today? We have hours yet until I have to be at the music store.”
“Anything you like or nothing at all. It’s solely up to you,” he said in a solemn voice. “You tell me what your pleasure is, and I’ll make sure you get it.”
She kissed his chest and pleasure melted through his body at the affectionate gesture.
“If I weren’t here and your job wasn’t to keep me safe, what would you be doing today?”
“Hmmm. I’d probably eat at Cattleman’s. Hang out with Micah, Nathan, and Gray. Nothing earth-shattering. Throw back a few beers.”
“I want to do something ordinary.”
He lifted a brow. “Define ordinary.”
“Something everyday. Average. What someone who leads a perfectly normal life would do.”
“You up for a jog?”
She pushed herself up and looked at him in horror. “You mean like exercising. Running?”
He chuckled. “Yeah. I like to keep in shape. I usually run in the mornings but I’ve missed a few days lately. We could go for a run. Take a shower together. Go eat breakfast at a little café I know of. Dad wants us to come for dinner tonight. He cooks lasagna every Sunday. It’s a family tradition. Maybe we can swing by after your signing.”
Shadows lurked in her eyes. Her gaze filled with uncertainty and she bit at her bottom lip. “Do they know? I mean, I guess they know, but do they know—know about us?”
He smiled at the way she sputtered around the subject. “Yeah. They know. Or at least Pop does. And now that he knows for sure, he’ll waste no time telling Faith, who’ll waste no time telling the other girls, who will waste no time telling their husbands. I should start receiving phone calls giving me shit within the hour.”
Her eyes lightened and she smiled back at him. “Sounds like a veritable gossip train.”
He shrugged. “We’re close. I guess that’s what friends do. Hard to keep anything from anyone in that group.”
“Yeah,” she said wistfully. “You’re lucky.”
“Hey, they love you.”
“I like them a lot too. I’m so glad I met them. And you.”
“Yeah, me too,” he said huskily as he leaned in to kiss her. “Now, how ’bout that run?”
“Oh my God, I’m dying,” Lyric wheezed when they walked—or, rather, she dragged—back up the drive to the house.
“You did great,” he said cheerfully. “Let’s hit the shower. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”
“Of course you are,” she muttered. “You’ll eat like a pig and not gain an ounce. I’ll look at a cupcake and swell up like a blowfish.”
He jogged in place and then swatted her on the ass. She shot him a glare but followed him into the house and up the stairs.
They played in the shower and Lyric couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed so much. She soaped him. He soaped her. They got fresh and frisky and groped each other shamelessly, and by the time they stumbled out to get towels, they were both breathing heavily.
He advanced on her menacingly, his c*ck rigid and standing straight up. She held up her hands to halt his advance. “Hey, none of that. You’re starving, remember?”
“Uh-huh. I’m starving. But not for food.”
She rolled her eyes. “When are you ever not hungry for food?”
“Now,” he growled.
She clutched the ends of the towel around her but he pried her fingers away, letting the towel fall to the floor, leaving her nak*d and still damp in front of him.
Her n**ples beaded and her belly clenched in anticipation as he reached for her.
“There better be a goddamn condom in here.”
She sucked in her breath, knowing that if they were going to actually be in a serious relationship, they’d need to discuss things like sexual history, condoms, all the icky stuff that she was used to shoving under the table.
“You don’t have to use one,” she said in a quiet voice. “I mean, if you didn’t want to.”
He regarded her curiously for a moment and then picked her up so she sat on the edge of the counter, her legs wrapped around his waist. He kissed the corner of her mouth and then nibbled a path to her neck that had her arching and sighing in contentment.
“How about I go find that condom, and we’ll have this discussion after I’ve f**ked you six ways to Sunday.”
Arousal rose sharp, like a bite. She shivered under the intensity of his gaze. In response, she looped her arms around his neck and he hoisted her up until she straddled his midsection. Then he turned and carried her into the bedroom.
When he got to the bed, he tumbled forward on the mattress, taking her down underneath him. With one hand, he groped toward the nightstand and snagged one of the packets.
“I’d apologize about how quick this is going to be, but I wouldn’t be sincere,” he said as he rolled the condom on. “I’ve got to have you or I’m going to explode.”
She smoothed her hands over his muscled shoulders and then down his sides to grasp his hips. “Sometimes foreplay is overrated.”
With a groan, he spread her thighs and then slid his thumb over her cl*t and below to her opening. Then he eased his fingers inside her and she smiled. Despite his urgency, he was still making sure she was ready for him.
She arched into his touch and sighed as fluttery sensations danced through her groin as he stroked through her dampness.
He pushed so her legs were splayed open and then he guided his c*ck to her entrance. But still he didn’t thrust. He rubbed the head up and down, bathing it in her wetness, and then finally he plunged deep. In one long stroke he was all the way in, and the shock of his entry made her gasp. So hard and full. She was stretched tight around him, and already the buzz of an orgasm had begun.
What followed could hardly be called making love. There was no sense of sweet and gentle wooing. It was an animalistic f**king that had her begging and pleading. It was like nothing she’d ever experienced.
Hard and furious, he stroked rapidly, his h*ps pumping against hers and the slap of his flesh against hers rising sharp in the air.
His entire body moved over hers, and his muscles strained tight underneath her fingertips. Suddenly he rolled, holding her tight against him, so that she was sprawled on top, her legs straddling him.
For a moment she lay there, her breaths coming harsh as she sought the strength to do what he wanted.
But all he did was reach down and hold her h*ps while he did the work, arching into her, thrusting upward, his hands holding her pinned tight against him.
Finally she managed to push herself up, her palms braced against his chest. The movement sent him deeper, and they both groaned as she repositioned herself, his c*ck tucked so deep and snug within her that she could barely breathe.
His hands left her h*ps and slid up her body to cup both br**sts. He gently squeezed and ran his thumbs over the puckered crests. Each brush sent an electric bolt straight to her p**sy that had her squirming.
“Ride me, Lyric,” he said. “Ride me as hard as I rode you. Let me watch you come all undone. I want to watch your face when you come.”
She closed her eyes and threw back her head and began sliding up and down his cock. Her knees pressed into the mattress on either side of his h*ps as she undulated her body in a comfortable rhythm.
She felt like a wild thing. Free and beautiful. She glanced down at Connor through half-lidded eyes and saw that his gaze was fastened on her, his eyes burning with approval. Desire. Love.
It was completely her undoing. Her orgasm flashed like a streak of lightning in the summer air. Beautiful and electric. Her entire body trembled with the shock.
His hands closed around her waist, holding her, supporting her. He closed his eyes and his face creased as though he were experiencing agony. His entire body went rigid and she continued to move through her own orgasm, determined to bring him the ultimate pleasure.
She was still moving when he leaned up and gathered her in his arms. “Come here, baby,” he said softly as he pulled her back down to sprawl over him.
They lay there breathing hard, their chests colliding as they sought to pump more air into oxygen-starved lungs. He kissed the top of her head and smoothed a hand over her hair as she wilted like a wet noodle atop him.
Her br**sts were smushed flat by his chest and her flesh was stuck to him like a second skin, but she lacked the strength or the desire to move. She fit him. He fit her.
He was sturdy and rock hard. Her refuge. Her oasis from everything in the real world.
She loved him too.
She closed her eyes, wondering why she couldn’t simply give him the words he’d given to her. Why were they so hard to say?
He continued to play with her hair, separating the strands and pulling his fingers through them as they lay there in the quiet. He seemed as content as she was for her to blanket him.
“Now, was there something you wanted to talk about regarding condoms, past lovers or anything similar?” he asked.
She raised her head. “You really think now is a good time to discuss it?”