Chapter 15 Connor Heyward
FIFTEEN
CONNOR HEYWARD
SEBASTIEN
So… that could’ve gone better.
Jesus Christ.
I can’t believe that. As though I’ve never been with a woman before, all it took was Annaliese working her hand over my cock, stroking me, her soft fingers working their magic on my overheated flesh and, suddenly, I was splurting all over her.
There wasn’t even enough time to warn her that I was about to come.
I bucked into her hand and, with a gasp of surprise—and a little bit of goddamn shame—I just let go.
Hell, I didn’t even mean to push her into feeling me up.
It’s like they say. One thing led to another, and if her phone hadn’t buzzed, the spotty service coming through with the worst possible timing, I’m pretty sure that would’ve led to another.
As far as I was concerned, that wasn’t playtime.
Oh, no. That was simply foreplay, and like I’ve been fantasizing over since I was able to call that woman mine, I would’ve had her bent over my bike, ass out, cock thrusting in and out of her delightful pussy as soon as I could get it up again.
I was already imagining her heat wrapped around me, the chill for the waterfall caressing my ass cheeks when the buzz broke the spell.
Of course she had to answer. I’d have to be a dick to stop her—it was bad enough she threw my ‘no service’ lie back in my face—so I didn’t.
And when panic clouded her face, erasing any of the wonder and the lust and the desire that had been there as she touched me, there was only one thing I could do.
I repaired the bike in a flash, and though she wasn’t that pleased to realize that I lied about that, too, knowing that I could get her back to her sister in no time was enough for her to forgive me…
for now. I’m sure I’ll have a lot to do to make it up to my wife.
And I’ll do it, gladly. But I’m also incredibly aware that I’m on thin ice now.
That’s why, after I drove her back to Harmony Heights, bringing her straight to the Crawfords home instead of Annaliese’s, I didn’t push my luck.
Part of me wanted to play the ‘husband’ card and tell her I would stay.
She refused to tell me what had spooked her sister enough that she needed to come right home.
Even though the message didn’t say why Miranda Crawford needed Annaliese, the stricken look in Annaliese’s eyes told me that she knew—and maybe if I hadn’t broken her trust up on overlook, she might’ve told me.
Fuck me. Once again, it’s one step forward, two steps back.
I showed Annaliese one of my most private places when I needed to escape Harmony Heights, and let her know about my dreams of being a mechanic.
I even got a handjob from her which left me feeling so high—until I had to admit I deceived.
So I gave her a smile when I did. The hurt look on her face when she realized I lied to her will stay with me for a long, long time.
So I didn’t push. I squeezed her fingers after Annaliese climbed off my back, telling her to keep the helmet and call me when she needed a ride home. That she didn’t refuse… didn’t tell me that she wouldn’t… I didn’t fuck up that badly.
I waited for her to disappear in the house. My visor’s up so I can see better. Once she’s gone, I scrub my hand over my face.
I just wanted an excuse to spend time with my wife without any expectations. Was that so bad? While we were together… and then the way she mentioned monogamy after the act?
I swear to fucking God, that word hits like a damn hammer. A part of me—a small, ugly, jealous part—immediately pictured her with someone else. Another man’s hands on her. Another man’s mouth on her. Her body underneath the fucker that I still haven’t been able to identify...
My stomach had twisted, the worst kind of possessive rage boiling up inside of me until I suddenly had to remind myself that she wasn’t talking about her being loyal to me.
She was talking about me being loyal to her.
I know my rep. I know how hard it will be to shake it, but without even meaning to, I’ve been loyal to the brunette I met that night at the Last Prayer. Now that she’s my wife? Now that I’ve given her my name, my protection, my everything?
I want to be worthy of Annaliese. I want to be a better man for her.
I want to be the kind of husband she deserves.
And that’s why, after I close my visor again and start up my bike, I leave Annaliese’s family home and head on over to Connor and Haven’s.
I need advice from someone who clawed his way out of the same darkness I’m afraid might swallow me whole, and there is no one better than to tell me how he and his wife escaped the oubliette than Connor Heyward.
As of this April, only two people are allowed to visit the Heywards without advance notice: me and Loni Heller.
It used to be just me. It took all five of us—me, Adrian, Dallas, Des, and Connor—to get her out of that hellhole she was trapped in, but when she finally stopped being catatonic…
finally found her voice again… she made it adamantly clear that she wanted nothing to do with three of us.
She hated Adrian for the way he used to treat Loni, and how she was handpicked to be his Offering back when we were kids.
She hated Dallas because he was Adrian’s cousin and Jack Collins only son. Since she absolutely loathed the former King, her hatred trickled down to Dallas.
And Des… well, he was a douche. Despite how tight we were in school, we’d drifted away some in the years that followed, but we figured that we could still call on him when we needed him.
And while Desmond St. James helped with breaking Haven out, he was still a douche about it, and then he eventually tried to Claim Loni and, well, Adrian hit the limit of his patience.
Because I never really upset her, Haven was cool with me. And Connor… she was made for him.
Before Loni left Harmony Heights, back when we were all eighteen or so, she was best friends with Haven.
They lost touch after Loni disappeared, and when she was dragged back to marry Desmond, she had no idea what had happened to Haven.
Adrian—protecting his new wife from the truth—didn’t want her to know what her friend had gone through while she was gone.
Eventually, she found out, and he had me visit Connor and Haven to see if she would be willing to talk to Loni.
Adrian thought that might help Haven. Connor thought that Adrian should butt out. The two almost came to blows, with good ol’ Bas playing peacemaker. And, hell, I must’ve done something right because, all these months later, Loni and Haven are back to being friends again.
So she has a pass to visit. Adrian? Yeah, he’ll still get a door in his face if he tries to visit.
Me? After I knock, Connor opens the door, meeting me there with a finger pressed to his lips.
“She’s sleeping,” he whispers, and neither one of us has to ask who he’s referring to. “She had a nightmare last night. Couldn’t sleep at all. Eventually, I had to give her something to help her go down.”
The quiet pain in his rough voice is familiar. So is the steel just beneath it.
I get it. Haven isn’t only his wife. She’s the woman he damn near tore the world apart to find, and after he did, he’s done everything he can to bring her back to him.
It’s been a year and a half. She’s so much better than she was, but there are times when…
yeah. It can get bad, and I don’t blame Connor for doing what he has to.
He jerks his thumb over his shoulder. “Did you want to come in?”
“If it’s okay.”
Connor nods. “Yeah. Just keep your voice down.”
“You got it.”
Haven’s gotta be sleeping on the second floor. We ease our way through the front room, going until we reach the small table in the kitchen.
Before I sit down, I reach into my front pocket. It was something else I had stowed in my saddlebag once I realized I wouldn’t have to use it. I grabbed it before I walked down the sidewalk that led to Connor and Haven’s cozy home. Now I lay the small glass vial on the table, pushing it toward him.
“You didn’t need it?”
I shake my head. “Turns out, my wife sleeps like the dead. Thanks for slipping me the sedative at the wedding, but I never had to use it. I can sneak in, spend a few hours next to her, then get out and, as far as I know, she has no clue that I was there.”
Except for my cologne lingering in her space, but I do that on purpose. Call is a subliminal message. I want her to get so used to it that, even when I’m not there, she imagines that I am.
Connor shrugs, pocketing the vial. He’s been using the same shit on Haven since he first brought her back home to Harmony Heights.
In the beginning… she didn’t want to stay with Connor.
Proving that we understand each other in ways that very few others do—Adrian does, and so does Dallas—I completely understand why he decided to drug Haven, keeping her trapped in his house until she finally realized that he was only doing it for his own good.
They’re happy now. If you tried to even suggest that Haven leave Connor, she has a panic attack that has her being sedated again.
She’s as dependent on him as he is her, and while that might seem toxic to outsiders, that’s just part of what happens when you’re raised to be part of the Order of the Owed.
I can’t drug Annaliese. It would be easier if I could, but that won’t get me my wife. I’ll have to try something else, and as Connor looks over the table at my sorry face, he can tell that I didn’t just stop by to return the sedative.
He jerks his chin at me. “So… how’s it going with you and the missus?”
I can’t keep back the sigh. “Fuck me, Connor. Let me just tell you… Adrian had it so much better.” At his disbelieving look, I nod. “Yeah. At least he knew Loni had feelings for him once upon a time.”
“She hated him.”
True. “Yeah, but she loved him, too. When he got her back, he just needed to remind her that she loved him.”
“Haven hated me,” Connor says, thinking he’s being helpful.
“Yeah, but she had a good reason to. And you made it up to her. Once you did, she couldn’t help but love you. But Annaliese… she’s keeping up walls.”
“Knock ‘em down.”
That’s easy to say, coming from Connor Heyward. Knocking things down is his specialty.
“Of course not,” he says dryly. “None of us are. We were born with silver spoons shoved so far down our throats that we almost choked on them. Shit. We have marked palms that mean we’ve never had to work for anything real.”
He taps his palm, drawing attention to the scar in the shape of the Order’s sigil.
I run my thumb over mine without thinking.
“That’s why you and—” He stops himself. “It never would’ve worked.”
“Yeah,” I murmur. “I know.”
Connor watches me for a long, assessing moment.
“Bas… listen. If something’s worth having,” he says quietly, “you do whatever the hell you can to keep it.”
He’s talking about Haven now. About the woman asleep upstairs, who still wakes up screaming. About how far he went to get her, and how far he’s gone since to keep her.
“She’ll be okay,” I tell him, hoping I’m not lying to one of my oldest, closest friends. “She’s been talking to Loni. That helps, right?”
“Yeah.” The hard lines of Connor’s mouth soften a fraction. “I’m thinking about getting her own kitten to take care of. Maybe two. Adrian said that they do best in pairs.”
“So do even the most broken of us,” I point out.
Connor eyes dart to the ceiling, toward the bedroom where Haven is blissfully unaware of everything he does to take care of her.
And he nods. “Yeah… yeah.”
Yeah.