Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
I n the dim light of his bedroom, the world outside didn’t matter. It was him, Kirsty, and the silent confession of their bodies. The summer night air was cool against their skin, but half under the sheets, it was comfortable and almost a bit too real.
Connor’s heart was doing that funny thing again, loud enough he reckoned Kirsty could hear it. He was on his belly, his cheek resting on his fist, as he looked at her next to him. Taking it all in. Her tousled hair, stained cheeks, mussy lips. The glimmering light in her eyes.
She was so beautiful it burned in his chest.
The way she’d had him… How she’d wanted him… Damn. She unlocked an entirely new side of him. Nothing would ever be the same now. It never could be. She’d unleashed the beast, and he liked it. She did, too, judging by the sheen of bliss on her face.
‘We left the food and the blanket on the beach, do you know that?’ she asked.
‘I had more important things on my mind.’
‘Like what?’
‘Like making love to you, Freckles.’
She giggled. ‘If that’s how you’re making love, I don’t want to know how you fuck. Although, on second thought…’
‘Daftie.’ He shook his head.
Before he could tell her how much he’d like that, too, she murmured his name in that sweet tone of hers that made his heart leap a little.
‘Connor,’ her finger followed the outline of the tattoo on his back and he relished in her touch, ‘why is that huge sail ship split in half?’
Rolling over onto his side, he propped up his temple on the heel of his hand so he could face her. ‘It’s braving the storm. Broken but not sunk. Endurance in the face of impossible challenges.’
‘A bit like you?’
He reached out, brushing a sweaty lock of hair from her cheek. ‘Aye, a bit.’
She put a hand on his chest, right where his heart beat. For her. ‘You’re not a sweet and pretty boy anymore,’ she said. ‘You’re a hot, fucking badass of a man with tattoos. I like that.’
That got a laugh out of him.
I love it when you’re sweet and silly with me.
Her fingers continued to explore his skin, drifting lower, coming to rest on the compass rose below his navel. ‘And this one?’
It tickled, but he fought not to squirm. ‘Can you see where it’s pointing?’
‘Not straight to north,’ she observed, a smile touching her words.
‘Right. It points towards the heart. That’s my true north,’ he said. ‘When life gets rough, when you’re in the storm, listening to your heart is how you find your way home. I didn’t do that for a long time. This is my reminder.’
He braced for a joke, a jab, a cynical remark, anything. But it never came. Instead, she looked at him, something like understanding – or perhaps acceptance – in her eyes.Then she placed a gentle kiss on his lips. ‘Kind of makes sense to me.’
‘Come here, you.’ He rolled onto his back and pulled her into his arm. She sighed with contentment, nestled against him, her head finding the perfect spot on his shoulder. He wanted to keep her there. Keep her safe and sound and happy.
They fell silent, a hushed moment humming with unspoken intimacy. It was late, or maybe it was early by then; time had slipped away from them. Without another word, they fell asleep, wrapped up in each other, in the safety of what they were beginning to build back together. He drifted off with a thought he hadn’t allowed himself to fully feel until now.
She makes me so happy. She makes me…me.
Waking to the emptiness next to him, Connor rubbed the sleep from his eyes. The reality of Kirsty in his flat, in his life again, settled in with a comforting weight. He tracked her down by the quiet clatter in the kitchen. She was trying not to wake him. This sweet girl. Pausing at the doorway, he leaned against the frame.
There she was, drowned in one of his old Metallica shirts, the morning light wrapping around her like a halo. Kirsty here – it was a sight that knocked the wind from his sails.
‘Are you looking for this?’ She turned, holding up a box of cereal. ‘It’s nearly empty.’
‘Might need a bit more than cereal dust,’ he admitted, scratching the back of his head. ‘I’m not exactly prepared for…guests. Don’t even have milk, I guess.’
‘Nope, you don’t. There’s toast, but nothing to put on it.’
‘Hey, I had no time to shop. Was busy helping your cute ass.’
‘Aww, you called me cute.’ She grinned and set the box on the counter.
She put the kettle on, while he rummaged his cupboard for something edible, anything. It was a dance of domesticity – her in his shirt, him in his boxers. The simplicity of the moment was almost more intimate than sex.
Christ.
The way she had him fuck her last night… He hadn’t known he had it in him to be so…unrestrained. Demanding. Reckless. He just hoped it hadn’t been too much. Too unrefined for her.
He’d known Kirsty, the girl. Now he was getting to know the woman she’d become. What she wanted, what she did and didn’t like. It made him a bit unsure of himself.
But she was still here, wasn’t she?
Connor couldn’t resist wrapping his arms around her waist from behind, the fabric of the shirt soft under his fingers. ‘I owe you a proper breakfast. You deserve one,’ he murmured into her hair. It smelled so good, like strawberries and cream and sunshine. ‘Don’t know about you, but I’m starving after last night.’
Kirsty leaned back into him, her head coming up to rest against his shoulder. There was a softness there, a quiet acceptance that coaxed his heart open wider. ‘Shagging you does make a gal hungry, Bannerman.’
‘Let’s go out for breakfast. My treat,’ he suggested. ‘There’s just one thing I have to eat before we leave.’ He turned her around, so she faced him, and lifted her onto the counter.
‘What?’ she asked. ‘I looked everywhere. There’s nothing here. So sad.’
‘Oh, you’re wrong, baby,’ he grumbled and kissed her neck. ‘Very, very wrong.’With a smooth movement, he tilted her hips, spread her legs, and put her calves on his shoulders. ‘Your pussy, Freckles. Haven’t had a taste yet. We can’t have that now, can we?’
‘Oh?’ Her eyes shot open in understanding. ‘Oh!’
‘You really think you can wander around my kitchen with no undies, and I’d be fine with that?’
‘I guess not?’ She leaned back, resting on her elbows.
‘Definitely not. So I will have to lick you in punishment.’ He softly grazed the seams of her bare sex with his thumb. Silky red locks guarding her entrance. She was hot and wet and a bit swollen, marked by him.
‘But I haven’t showered and—’
‘Shut up and trust me that I know what I like.’ He bowed down and inhaled her scent, sweet and heady, letting it seep into his being. ‘First I eat you, then I feed you. Aye?’
‘Okay.’ Her giggle melted into a gasp as he teased her, licking, sucking, rubbing his nose against her clit.
God, this woman was everything. So openly and unashamedly hot for him.
‘Connor…woah!’
There, he found that sweet spot that made her shiver. ‘That good, hm?’ he murmured against her thighs. He loved that he could please her like that. Not that he was an expert, he was flying purely on instinct. Seemed to work, though, so he kept doing it.
Kirsty grabbed fistfuls of his hair as he lapped up her essence. ‘Oh God,’ she mewled, toes curling. ‘Ohhh yes, yes. Right there. Yes!’
Connor ignored the ache of his own arousal. This was about her. Taking his time savouring her. He gripped her thighs, anchoring her in place as gave her another long, firm lick.He could taste her for days and not want anything else.
Kirsty let out a rolling sigh, hips arching against his face, chest heaving. ‘Fuck, Connor. I…f-fuck…’ She slammed her flat hand on the counter.
‘Mmm,’ he hummed against her slick centre and she shuddered. Her wetness was all over his tongue, his mouth, his chin. She was an exquisite, drenched, glistening mess. He sucked on her clit as if it were his last meal and oh, how he wanted this to last forever. But her body was aching for relief. Begging for it. And he was many things, but a cruel man he was not.
‘C-Connor…I’m…I’m…’
‘Shhh, baby. I know. Let me… Mhm…such an eager pussy…’ He pushed two fingers inside her, easily, curling against her magic spot while he rolled over her bud with his flat tongue till she squirmed, hand fisting in his hair. Her moans reached an urgent pitch, almost drowned out by the whistling of the boiling kettle. ‘Jesus Christ…Connor! OH GOD!’
And she screamed as she came undone underneath his tongue. Her hands pulling him against her, tethering herself to him.
Her orgasm was the most scrumptious thing he’d ever had for breakfast.
Wouldn’t mind one of those every morning.
Bursting with pride he got up, pulled a hair off his tongue like a real man, and simply admired the soul-stirringly, heart-squeezingly stunning sight before him. Eyes wild, legs quivering, and hips twitching in the aftermath of the orgasm he’d just given her. Kirsty, always strong and fierce and sharp, reduced to a puddle by his ministrations. Pretty much like he’d felt last night.
How it was supposed to be.
‘You’re so…’ she couldn’t find the words, ‘ excellent at that. But I thought you were… How—’
Laughing, Connor wrapped her into his arms. ‘Natural talent, what can you do.’
Kirsty smacked his chest. ‘Cocky bastard.’
‘I’m aware.’ Connor kissed her. ‘Here, have a taste.’
Pink climbed her face. But she kissed him back.
He grinned and picked her up, bridal style, walking her towards the shower. ‘Now, Miss Munro, I think we need to get you cleaned up.’
Her laugh echoed through the hallway and his whole heart.
The bathroom was steamed up as if they’d been trying to cook themselves. Connor sat on the edge of the bath, a towel in hand, Kirsty standing in front of him. Freckle by freckle, he gently rubbed her back dry.
‘There are so many things I want to do with you.’ Her voice was all husky, like she wasn’t just coming down from a high but ready to climb right back up. Her purr sent a fresh wave of heat through his veins, despite the cool, tiled floor beneath his feet. ‘We’ll need a bin bag full of condoms, Bannerman.’
It was a statement that could send a lesser man running, but Connor? It only pulled a grin across his face, one part challenge, two parts pure, unadulterated joy. His brain was half mush, unable to believe she was here, with him.
Yes, there was a beat, a moment, where he wondered if he could truly keep pace with her needs, with her. But then she looked over her shoulder and smiled at him, and bliss won, ten-nil.
‘True. But if you’re planning on me being some kind of stallion all day, I’m gonna have to eat, Freckles,’ he said, now making slow, circular motions across her shoulders. Then he leaned down and nibbled on the cheek of her arse. Too fucking tempting.
‘Ow! Yeah, you do need some sustenance.’ Her voice was contented. ‘Mhm, this is nice. So nice.’
Connor’s gaze met hers in the bathroom mirror, a silent exchange charged with the weight of whatever the fuck it was they were both navigating. But looking at her, sharing this slice of ordinary life, he’d run through fire for this new normal. ‘We could go to your parents’ café for breakfast,’ he suggested.
Her whole body tensed. ‘Shite! My parents. I didn’t tell them where I am. Fuck!’ Kirsty whipped around, her hands finding his shoulders for balance. ‘In London, it’s just me. I don’t have to tell anyone my whereabouts,’ the words rushed out. ‘They must be worried sick. Do you think they called the polis?’
Before he could even muster a response, Kirsty was off, darting across the hallway like a shot, hunting down her phone in the bedroom.
‘It’s only seven.’ He trailed after her, hoping to inject a bit of calm into the chaos. ‘They might not even have noticed that you didn’t come home last night.’
‘Don’t be daft. You know my parents. They’ve been up since half five.’
He leaned against the doorway, watching her. She snatched up her phone, fingers flying over the screen. The flurry of movement, the sharp intake of breath as the call connected.
‘Hi, Maw, it’s me,’ Kirsty started, her voice a tightrope walk between apology and relief. ‘I’m awright. I’m with Connor. I fell asleep.’
He only heard one side, but the rise and fall of Kirsty’s tone gave it away – tension, worry, hurried explanations, defensiveness. ‘I said I’m sorry. Yes, I know I should’ve called or texted,’ she continued, her pacing slowing as she spoke. The panic that had seized her moments ago was now giving way to a form of relief, her shoulders drooping.
He couldn’t suppress a smile, a silent observer to this snippet of Kirsty’s life. The conversation wound down. Hanging up, she let out a long exhale, the storm of worry passing as quickly as it had arrived.
‘It’s okay,’ she said. ‘No polis, just a worried set of helicopter parents that are far too old for that role.’
Connor pushed off from the doorway, closing the distance between them. The tension of the moment dissipated into the warm, comfortable space they’d created together. She looked so adorable right now. He couldn’t help but plant a kiss on her pouty lips.
‘How about we head over now? Show them you’re okay, grab some breakfast…and lay some groundwork so they don’t think I’m kidnapping you or something.’ Hopefully, Maw and Da Munro wouldn’t be inclined to scold him.
Kirsty nodded. ‘Aye, and I’m definitely going to need all the coffee.’ She snaked her arms around him and placed her cheek against his shoulder. Trustful.
This was corny as fuck. Chaotic and complicated and scary.
Absolutely perfect.