Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE
Tav
I wanted to put all my trust in Con, and I was maybe seventy-five percent of the way there.
What held me back was that I didn’t trust life.
All of this still felt too good to be true.
How the hell did I randomly meet the one person who not only wanted to take on the world for me, but who also was slowly becoming my world?
After the phone call with Chen, I felt adrift as my mind conjured up all the worst-case scenarios about how the next few weeks could go. Con led me to the bedroom, while I steadily felt my concussed brain snag on problems and issues and—
“Brush your teeth.” Con put a toothbrush in my hand, so I did.
“Wash your face with this.” He squirted a dollop of creamy liquid in my palm, so I rubbed it into a lather and scrubbed it onto my face before rinsing it off.
“Dry it.” He handed me a towel, so I did.
I avoided the mirror like I always did, and if Con noticed, he didn’t say anything.
“Strip down to your boxers,” Con ordered me, and I did, because this was all so much easier when I didn’t have to think. When I could just do what he told me to, especially because my mind was too preoccupied with thoughts of my sister being hurt, of my nephew crying—
“Tav,” he gripped my face hard with both hands, and I looked him in the eye.
We stood beside the bed, me in my boxers and Con in nothing but pajama pants.
For a moment, my mind cleared as I focused on the smooth skin of his broad shoulders, of the darkened skin around his nipples that contrasted with the rest of his paleness.
I reached out without thinking, thumbing one of the stiff peaks.
My body drifted closer, until his elbows were trapped between us.
He lifted one hand and pressed two fingers between my brows. “You’re thinking hard. Worried?”
I didn’t want him to think I didn’t trust him. That wasn’t it. But I couldn’t stop my brain from cycling over and over again.
He should get mad. He’d done nothing but reassure me, but his eyes didn’t darken. He didn’t look frustrated. Instead, he nodded, almost to himself. “We’re going to get in bed. I’m going to read to myself, and you’re going to put your head between my legs and warm my cock.”
My breathing sped up as the memory of the first night we spent together flashed in my head.
That had been a goddamn dream. All I had to focus on was Con’s dick in my mouth as he’d worked with his slutty little glasses perched on his nose.
I swallowed as my dick jerked. I knew no orgasms, and that was fine.
I didn’t need one right now. I just needed Con to turn off my brain. “Will you wear your glasses?”
I normally didn’t shock Con, not like this, but his eyebrows lifted in surprise, before he grinned wide. His eyes sparked in amusement, and I loved when he looked like this. “You like my glasses.”
I ran my finger down the bridge of his perfect nose. “Yeah. I do.”
He laughed softly, and that made me smile.
When he settled into bed with a few pillows propping up his shoulders and head, he reached onto his nightstand to grab his book and glasses.
He slid them onto his face with a grin at me, and a delighted shiver slid down my spine.
He looked so hot in them, like a professor, and when he kicked off his pajama pants, I immediately shed my boxers before slipping into the sheets.
My cock was half hard as I settled between his legs.
His cock was the same, and I immediately drew the tip into my mouth to relish the salty, musky taste of Con.
It’d been a while since I had him in on my tongue, and my mind began to fuzz around the edges.
He held his book with one hand while the other gently cupped my head.
I relaxed and hummed around his spongy head, lightly tonguing at it.
“Like that,” he murmured. “No deeper. Just the tip.” His fingers carded through my hair, as I just barely suckled. “That’s perfect.” His cock remained half-hard, and I liked the softness of it between my lips. “Just focus on me. I know what you need, and this is it, isn’t it?”
I hummed around him, my eyes closed. My mind was like drifting snow.
His fingers scratched at my scalp. My neck.
My ears. He read a few lines from his book out loud, and while the words didn’t penetrate my contented haze, his voice did.
The low tones eased the tension in my shoulders.
I curled my body between his legs, turning myself so I could rest the side of my face against his thigh while keeping his cock in my mouth.
His voice continued, and my mind drifted. Snow. Soft rainfall. White noise. Con’s cock. Peace.
Morning light filtered through my eyelids, and I felt a stirring next to me. “I have to get up for work,” Con’s voice whispered near my head. “You keep sleeping.”
And because my body seemed conditioned to obey his commands, I listened.
When I woke again, the clock on the nightstand read nine-thirty in the morning.
I rolled onto my back and stretched my arms over my head.
Already, my body felt better, and that likely had to do with getting a good night’s sleep for once.
I didn’t hear my neighbors fighting, or rodents scuffling, or horns blaring. Con’s apartment was like an oasis.
I rubbed my eyes and remembered that Con had said he had to get up for work. He hadn’t left, had he?
I climbed out of bed and pulled on a pair of sweatpants before doing my business in the bathroom. I could feel that the skin of my face was less tight, so the swelling must have gone down somewhat, but I still avoided the mirror when I washed my hands at Con’s double sinks.
I padded down the hallway in search of Con, checking the spare bedroom, the kitchen and living room, before I spotted him through the set of glass doors that led into his office.
He sat at his desk wearing a pair of suit pants with no shoes and a dress shirt with the top buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
His cell was pressed to his ear, and while I could hear him when he spoke, his voice was muffled.
He spotted me immediately and smiled before lifting a finger in the air.
I smiled back and waved him away. He was busy, and I didn’t need babysitting.
I made myself breakfast with Con’s fully stocked fridge and pantry.
I scrambled some eggs with cheese and veggies and then piled my plate with a muffin and fruit.
I normally didn’t eat all this food on a regular basis, and a few more weeks of this would be visible on my waistline, but I’d kept myself thin for so long, and I missed food.
Would Con still want me without a six-pack?
He emerged from his office as I was scraping my plate and stopped next to me where I sat at his island. His hand warmed the back of my neck. “You going to lick it too?” He pointed his chin at my plate.
Smirking, I picked it up and gave it a long lick down the center.
He laughed, his voice deep and husky, and it made me grin.
He smelled like coffee and expensive cologne.
Still laughing, he leaned down and dropped a kiss to my temple, his lips lingering there.
My heart skipped at the casual touch. The affection that wasn’t sexual.
His fingers brushed my left eye. “The swelling has gone down. How do you feel?”
“I feel good.” I twisted in my seat. “Look, can you just show me the gym? I’ll walk real slow on a treadmill. What Sam doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”
He rolled his eyes as he grabbed a glass and filled it with water from the dispenser in his fridge. I’d never lived anywhere that had a fridge like that. “I’m not worried about hurting her.”
I carried my dish to the sink, rinsed it, and loaded it in the dishwasher. If I was going to live here, I wasn’t going to make a mess of Con’s place. At my apartment, it hadn’t really mattered if I cleaned since everything had felt dirty anyway.
He took a sip of water and watched me. His phone beeped, and he glanced at it. I was reminded he had been working. Like a real job and everything. Maybe he didn’t have time to show me the gym. “Hey, Con, it’s okay if you’re busy. It’s not a big deal, and I can find something else to do.”
He slipped his phone back in his pocket and frowned. “No, it’s fine, and it won’t take long. Come on.” But he didn’t walk toward the front door. He was still barefoot. I glanced down the hallway and then back at him before following. “Did you want to go get dressed, or…?”
He placed his hand on a doorknob of a door off to the side of his kitchen that I’d noticed but hadn’t paid much attention to. I had figured it was a closet or something. He gave me a smile as he swung it open and gestured for me to walk inside.
The room was as large as his bedroom, and mirrors lined three walls, while the fourth was all windows that looked out over the city.
The floor was a spongey black and gray speckled tile that felt clean and soft under my feet.
A TV hung in the corner, and a treadmill sat in front of the windows as well as an exercise bike.
I spun around, taking in some of the weight machines as well as an entire rack of dumbbells.
Some of the equipment, while in great condition, looked used.
But what caught my eye was the pristine heavy bag hanging in the corner.
I walked over to it, brushing my fingers along the fragrant, oiled leather.
“There’s a gym on the fourth floor.” Con stood in the doorway, hands in the pockets of his pants, shoulder leaned against the doorframe. “But I’m anti-social and don’t like it.”
I let my palm rest on the heavy bag. “You use this?”
“No.” His smile was soft. “It’s new.”
That was what I thought, and I felt my breathing speed up. “When did you get this installed?”
He held my gaze. “The day after you left my apartment with a bruised face and knuckles.”
“You didn’t know I was a fighter, then.”