Cup of Sugar (18 page)

“Now yours.” He rose to one elbow, caught her shirt and tugged it over her head. “Bra too. I need your skin on mine.” He pulled her flat on top of him. “Yeah, that’s better.” He cupped her ass, held her in place and rocked his hips upward.

She moaned when he did it a second time. Braced herself on his chest and arched, pushing back to meet his thrusts. “Conn…”

“Take what you need, baby.” Jesus, what a sight. Beautiful, full breasts with hard, pink nipples begging for his attention. That silky, blonde hair tumbling forward as she bucked and writhed on top of him. His name wrapped in her breathless whisper as she came.

He gripped her hips hard, thrust upward. Not enough, not enough. He pulled her down, flat against his chest, and flipped them. Then he pushed deeper. Deeper, crushing her breasts between them, owning her mouth with his tongue. Couldn’t stop the fire this time. It swirled in his balls, raced up his cock, made him blind and dizzy and high.

“Jesus…so good, baby…” He collapsed on top of her, panting like a spent beast. Which about summed it up. No slow and gentle tonight, he’d needed Nia to know, without a doubt, how much he wanted her. That he wouldn’t stand by passively while she dated another man. That he’d fight for her with everything he had.

He pressed his lips to her temple. One of her satisfied sighs escaped, wove its way through him. That sound. Sweeter than any music.

He lifted his weight from her chest. Just enough to let her breathe. He wasn’t ready to stop touching her. “So beautiful.”

She smiled at him, skated her hands up and down his back. From his butt to the back of his head, everywhere she could reach. A soft caress that stole the last of his power.

He shifted to one side before his arms gave out. He let go of her long enough to ditch the condom, then wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him, spoon style. He buried his face in her hair. Felt himself slipping.

Not yet. Too soon. “You okay?” Most he could manage from his pre-sleep haze.

She made an
mmm-hmm
and squeezed his hand.

They should talk, he knew they should, but fatigue had caught up to him. Everything was shutting down on him. Fast.

A single
woof
jerked him back from the edge of sleep. “Forget it.” Another
woof
, this one accompanied by a cold snout pressed against Conn’s back. Shit. “You went out an hour ago.”

“I’ll let him out.”

He tightened his hold when she tried to slide from the bed. “Don’t want you to go.”

“One of us has to let Zeus out.” She peeled his arm from her waist and shimmied free, giggling softly from what seemed like a hundred miles away when it dropped to the mattress with a boneless
thud
.

He registered a light kiss on his forehead. Tried to speak but the fog was too thick. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he’d tell her everything.

* * *

Zeus headed for the stairs the instant Nia’s feet hit the bedroom floor. She followed the dog, shivering more with each step. Walking naked through Conn’s house—quite a jump from going out with somebody else so she could move on. Well, she’d sort of moved on. She’d moved on to having sex with Conn
in his house
. The house next door to hers. So much for her boundaries and rules.

She scooped her coat from the front hall floor. She slid it on, tugged it closed and hugged herself. Better to wear it this way than do up the buttons and have the cool, satin lining brush back and forth over her skin. Hard nipples would make her think of Conn’s heated stare moving over her skin, and since he’d pretty much passed out afterward, he was in no state for a second round. Honestly, neither was she. Not after the thorough fucking he’d administered.

This time had been harder than the others. Not rough, just more…possessive. Nobody had ever looked at her that way before, demanded to be the only man in her life. And that stunt he’d pulled—piling a mountain of snow across the bottom of her driveway so that Aaron wouldn’t be able to pull in—incredible. Maybe a little insane. But she loved it.

She loved everything he’d done to woo her. The simple stuff like shoveling snow together and talking while they walked the dog. Buying her skates—that’d only been the sweetest, most romantic day of her life. She’d known from the first time she saw Conn that he’d be trouble. Trouble being the feelings he elicited. She liked him. She craved him. Honesty time—she was falling in love with him.

In the kitchen, she snapped the blinds closed. Interesting that he had shades on all these windows. A room where privacy shouldn’t matter as much as the bathroom upstairs, yet
that
room had nothing to protect its user from prying eyes. Now that she and Conn were…whatever they were, she should tell him that she could see everything he did behind the clear shower curtain.
Everything.

Sometimes he just showered. Even watching him rub soap all over his big body was sexy. But the times he did more than get clean—whoa. It was always the same. He’d stroke his cock slowly at first, as if savoring the process. Then he’d brace himself with one hand on the wall. His speed would increase and his head would bow forward. His hips—god, his hips—they’d move as if he wasn’t alone, as if he was driving his cock inside a willing body. Hers, in her mind.

The distance between them made it impossible to see the money shot, but Nia always knew when he came. God, most days she wasn’t far behind. Then the shower curtain would slide open and he’d stare out the window. At her house, her window. As if he knew she was hiding there, secretly watching. Riding her vibrator and getting off to the sexy show he provided.

She fanned herself with the front of her coat while following Zeus down the basement stairs. Maybe Conn would be ready for round two by the time she got back to bed. She could tell him he owed her for letting Zeus out. Seemed a fair trade.

She opened one of the walkout’s double doors. Cold air swept into Conn’s workshop and curled around her bare legs. “Go on, out you go, quickly.” She closed the door on winter, for a few minutes at least, and watched Zeus until he disappeared into the darker depths of the backyard.

Since she had a few minutes, she might as well look around. Investigate this space where Conn spent so much of his at-home time. Unlike her shitty basement, these walls were finished and painted a warm, bright cream. A bit of sawdust covered one small area, but everywhere else, the laminate floor sparkled. White cupboards lined one wall. A pegboard full of small tools covered another. A large, red tool chest sat off to one side of a workbench and some large, intimidating tools had places nearby. Zeus had a cushy dog bed to lie on and Conn had mounted a TV on one wall.

A handyman’s dream, this space. Maybe one day she’d get to hang out and watch him do his thing. Well, his
other
thing.

She ran her palm over the clean and tidy workbench. She leaned over one end, imagining Conn’s hands, one on her back, one in her hair, guiding her down. In her vision, he didn’t take the time to undress her, just pushed their pants out of the way and fucked her from behind. As if her fantasies about Conn hadn’t been plentiful enough. Now that she’d given in to the idea of being with him, her imagination and libido were in overdrive.

Zeus pawed at the glass door. She straightened, braced herself for another dose of frigid air and pulled the door open. He trotted in, promptly shook and scattered snow two feet in all directions. His work here done, he disappeared up the stairs.

The floor would be fine, but some of those snow blobs had landed on what looked to be another of Conn’s creations in progress. Nia chewed her lip, weighing the options. Leave it or wipe it off. The tabletop—at least that’s what she guessed it would be—was still unfinished. If she left the snow to melt, there’d water rings for sure. She risked making it streaky if she wiped the moisture away, but that would probably be less damaging.

A little nosing around turned up a roll of paper towel. That’d do. She moved a piece of sandpaper out of the way and found Conn’s cell hiding underneath. He must have been working on this when she showed up at his door. He’d dropped everything for her. As he’d done on New Year’s Eve, when they’d barely known each other. And several times since, once they had.

When she’d first laid eyes on Conn, she’d taken one look at his dark hair, manly jaw, panty-melting eyes and hunky physique, and pegged him for a superficial playboy with no substance. Having endured the “dumb blonde” label much of her life, she should’ve known better than to judge Conn by his looks. The past weeks had certainly taught her that.

Not only was he the best lover she’d had, he was smart. Funny. Thoughtful. A homebody devoted to his dog. He spoke often and fondly of his family. He’d had the grades to go to college, but he’d chosen to follow his passion for building and become a tradesman. That passion meant he always had some project on the go in addition to his job with the contracting company. A real go-getter, her dad had said. A keeper, her mom had said. Because yes, they asked about him every time they called. And yes, Nia hadn’t stopped talking about him.

She agreed with both parents’ assessments. Conn was a catch. Yet he was still single. At thirty-one.

Tracy’s comments bubbled up to taunt her.
“Conn is fantastic at making a woman feel special. Until the novelty wears off. Then all he sees are the imperfections. Does your new girlfriend know how you feel about love? How about marriage?”

No. Nia wouldn’t allow Tracy to come between them a second time. Conn’s former relationships didn’t matter. Not after the things he’d said upstairs.

Speaking of, that’s where she ought to be. Conn’s phone in hand, she started for the stairs. Now she had an excuse to wake him—to ask if he’d set his alarm. She didn’t want to be responsible for him oversleeping and being late for work. Of course, she wouldn’t mind if he took a sick day and spent the morning in bed with her.

Halfway up the stairs, his phone buzzed in her palm. The screen illuminated and the preview for a new text message stared up at her from the lock screen.

My plane just landed, I’m back in the country! Finally, right? Only two years, but now that I’m here, it feels like I’ve been away forever. I’ve missed you too. Can’t wait to see you, baby…

That’s where the preview ended. Nia didn’t need to see more. The woman who’d sent this text—CeeCee, of all the ridiculous names—had obviously been part of Conn’s life prior to an extended trip abroad. Enough for her to call him “baby.” But the worst part of the cut-off message, the real kick to Nia’s gut, came from one little word—
too
—returning Conn’s sentiment.

The phone slid from Nia’s shaking hand. She fumbled but caught it, unable to do anything other than stare at the partial message until the screen faded to black.

What a disaster. Shaky legs carried her back down the stairs. She returned the phone to its spot beneath the piece of sandpaper and leaned over Conn’s workbench. No sexy fantasies swirled around in her head this time.

She took a deep breath and forced her inner crazy to shut the hell up. She needed to think, weigh the possibilities. He could have sent his “I miss you” message to another woman before Nia entered the picture. Or when she’d insisted they could only be friends, or when she’d lied to him at the coffee shop. After tonight, they’d definitely crossed a line. Not officially, no titles had been exchanged, but the dynamic had shifted.

Conn had feelings for her. Maybe not deep, everlasting ones, but he cared. He knew she didn’t want casual sex—he wouldn’t have had taken her to his bedroom if it didn’t mean something. He’d see that text tomorrow morning and delete it. Better yet, he’d reply and tell Miss Two-Year Hiatus that he was involved with somebody else now.

Then again… What if he’d spent the last two years hoping for this woman from his past to return?

Nia didn’t believe Conn had purposely deceived her or set out to hurt her, he wasn’t that type of guy. But the possibility existed that he’d been hanging out with—and having sex with—her in a “backup plan” sort of way. And now that CeeCee was back…

The knot in her stomach leapt up her throat. Tears burned behind her eyes. She had to get out of here, away from Conn. Get her head straight.

She moved through his house quietly. In his room, she patted around until she found her boots and jeans. Good enough. She stuffed them under one arm and hurried down the stairs, where she pulled them on and buttoned her coat over her naked breasts. She’d get her bra and blouse tomorrow. Or never, if her worst fears materialized.

Muffled barking sounded from the second floor as she opened and closed the front door. She waited on the porch, half hoping the noise would alert Conn that she’d gone. That he’d come chasing after her, drag her back to bed.

He didn’t. He was likely deep into dreamland and hadn’t heard a thing. The question was—who was he dreaming about?

Chapter Thirteen

Since graduating college and landing her first managerial position, Nia had never called in sick. Not once. Even the times she’d felt like a visitor on death’s doorstep. Today she’d broken her perfect-attendance streak. Six years brought to a screeching halt with one fake stomach virus. Just so she could see Conn when he got home from work.

He’d cleared the snow from the end of her driveway. Considering he usually left for work by six-thirty in the morning, and he’d created a sizable bank of snow last night, he must have been up and at it pretty darn early.

He’d also texted her.
Thanks for last night. Sorry I crashed. Want to talk to you, but I know you’re probably working nights the rest of the week. Save some time for me Saturday.

If she hadn’t seen the incoming text preview on Conn’s phone last night, his message would have her jumping for joy. Instead, it had her stomach in knots. This talk he had planned could go either way. She couldn’t wait until the weekend to hear the verdict. She’d be a basket case by then.

She opened the oven door a crack. A domestic goddess she was not, but the beef pot pie she’d made—well, assembled from various containers—smelled and looked delicious. Conn had been putting in long days lately. Coming home to a hot meal would probably hit the spot. If one of the ways to his heart was through his stomach, she’d get back in the habit of cooking. Starting with some ready-to-use pie crust, a can of beef stew and a few additional veggies, just to give it a “homemade” touch.