Chapter 17 Connor McCormick Was a Very Good First Date
SEVENTEEN
CONNOR MCCORMICK WAS A VERY GOOD FIRST DATE
SARAH
I raced down the stairs and out the door.
“Why were you in my apartment?” Connor yelled, twisting his fist in the front of the big man’s shirt.
As Connor shook him, some rope fell out of his backpack.
Thick rope. Like the kind that Hailey was strung up by.
“You didn’t lock the door, man.”
“Bullshit,” Connor growled, slamming the guy into the brick wall.
“Connor, I don’t think—” I glanced at the crowd forming around us. The door to the Welkum opened, and people trickled out.
Connor ignored me, snatching the guy’s backpack and throwing it to the ground. An unzipped black case fell out, and metal tools scattered across the sidewalk. “Want to try again?”
The man’s eyes went wide. “Look, I—”
Connor pulled back his arm and then rammed his fist into the guy’s face. Once. Twice. Three times. “What if my girl was there alone?” His fist landed with a sick thud to the man’s stomach.
My girl.
My heartbeat thumped in my ears as I watched Connor’s bare chest heave with heavy breaths as he loomed over the guy. Every muscle in his body was tense, ready to spring into action.
The beaten man glanced at me, and Connor roughly grabbed his face, jerking his attention back to him. “You don’t look at her, you sick fuck. You saw enough upstairs.”
“I didn’t see anything,” the guy said, his words a bit garbled as if Connor had broken his jaw.
Connor leaned in, nose to nose, and said something I couldn’t hear over the murmuring crowd, but the man paled.
“Hey, what’s going on?” someone shouted.
Carter and Duncan shoved through the crowd. When they got to my side, Duncan gave me a cautious smile before turning to Connor. “Hey man, I think he’s had enough.”
“Stay out of it,” Connor barked, not sparing Duncan a look.
Police sirens sliced through the air, and the onlookers grew excited.
With balls of steel, Carter placed a hand on Connor’s shoulder. “Why don’t you let him go before the cops get here?”
Connor glared at Carter, but Carter didn’t back down. If anything, he moved closer. “Be smart.”
Slamming the guy against the wall one last time, Connor let him go, and he dropped to the sidewalk, holding his side.
The cops broke up the crowd, quickly taking statements and arresting the would-be burglar.
“Thanks for helping,” I said to the guys as we watched the police get in their cars.
“No problem. Connor’s a good guy. I’d hate to see him get mixed up with the cops,” Carter said, smiling down at his phone.
Connor crossed the street, flexing his hands. When he reached us, he pulled me to him, hugging me tightly.
“You good?” Carter asked, his face twisting with concern.
“Fine.” Connor’s heart raced under my ear.
“Are you sure?” I asked, gazing up at his severe expression.
Connor gave me a terse nod and let go. “I need to get cleaned up.” He stared down at his busted knuckles.
The sight of blood on his skin made my stomach lurch. “Let me help you,” I said softly, taking his elbow. Glancing at Carter and Duncan, I gave them a tight-lipped smile. “I’m going to take him upstairs.”
A frown flashed across their faces before smoothing into pleasant smiles.
“See you guys later.”
“Have a good night,” Duncan said with a wave.
Silently, we went back to Connor’s apartment.
Once inside, he shut and locked the door. Shrugging off his dirty shirt, he rolled his shoulders. I was so focused on the ripple of the muscles in his back that I almost missed when he said, “I told you to stay here.”
He trudged to the bathroom and turned on the faucet, and I followed, standing in the doorway and gawking at him. Pink water swirled down the drain as he rinsed his busted knuckles. Flexing his hand, he hissed.
“There was no way I was going to leave you to chase after some burglar. What if he had a weapon?”
Connor glanced over his shoulder as he carefully dried his hands.
Shaking his head, he turned, pinning me with a look so raw, my stomach flipped.
Long gone was the sweetie who served me homemade apple pie and blushed when I flirted with him.
In his place was a rough man, staring at me with an intensity that made me want to run.
Whether it’s to or from him remains to be seen.
“Yeah. What if he had a weapon?” he asked in a low, gravelly voice as he took a step toward me. “And what if he pulled it on you? There’s a killer on the loose, and you’re running after criminals.”
He took another step, but this time I matched him with one backward.
Cocking his head, he smirked. “You scared, pretty girl?”
“No,” I whispered, my hands fisting the gold shimmery material at my waist. Violence had never been appealing to me, but there was something about a shirtless, sweaty, bloody Connor that put me on edge in the best possible way.
Connor’s gaze trailed down my body and stopped where my bra poked out of the neckline of my dress. He rubbed his jaw, his eyes meeting mine, and he shook his head. “I don’t like that he saw you like that.”
In a few short steps, his large body crowded me against the wall. He cupped the back of my head, keeping it from banging into the door frame.
I craned my neck to look up at him, my heart fluttering wildly against my ribcage.
This is what I’ve been missing with other guys.
“Do you have any idea how perfect you looked on your knees in just your underwear, sucking my cock? And that asshole got to see that. I should’ve gouged his eyes out.” Connor huffed, running his thumb over my lower lip. “Then you run out to the street looking freshly fucked and—”
“You’re jealous?” I asked in disbelief.
Red streaked across his high cheekbones, and he licked his bottom lip. “I’m angry you were violated like that, and—” He slipped his fingers into my hair. “Yeah, I guess a piece of me is jealous that a street full of assholes got to see you like this.”
I fought back a smile and failed miserably. Jealousy had never been attractive, but seeing the easy-going Connor turn a little green did it for me.
Sliding my arms around his neck, I pulled him against me. “But you’re the one who gets to touch me.”
Connor exhaled, his pupils dilating. “Yeah?”
I gave a little nod. “So, what are you going to do with me?”
He groaned, his fingers tightening in my hair before his lips crashed into mine. The kiss knocked the air out of my lungs. Every stroke of his tongue laid claim to my mouth, marking me as his, and I enthusiastically welcomed it.
Winding a leg around his thigh, I moved against him, desperate to alleviate the ache he’d caused. A hunger I’d never known took over, and I wanted nothing more than to dive headfirst into this thing with Connor.
Connor broke our kiss, cupping my ass and lifting me so I was wrapped around him and pressed against the wall. “I’ve tried to take things slow with you. You deserve to be treated like a goddamn queen.”
He thrust into me, the worn denim of his jeans rubbing against my damp panties. He did it again, and we both moaned.
“But fuck. Seeing Carter and Duncan near you when you look like this?” He dug his fingers into the flesh of my ass and groaned.
My stomach flipped, and the pulse between my thighs grew unbearable. Every roll of his hips drove me closer to begging him to fuck me.
Connor’s blue eyes burned into mine as he adjusted me in his hold, propping me up, making room to slip a hand between my thighs.
His long fingers dipped under the wet lace barely covering my pussy and ran along my slit.
“With everything going on, I’m done taking it slow. You’re fucking mine, Sarah.”
Punctuating his promise, two fingers plunged into my pussy.
“Connor,” I gasped, already contracting around the invasion.
“That’s it, pretty girl. Soak my hand.” He worked me, slow and steady, adding another finger. “I’m the only one who gets to see you like this, the only one who gets to have you like this.”
“Only you,” I gasped, curling my fingers into his shoulders. “Please, Connor. Fuck me.” Hooking my heels in the back of his pants, I tried to shove them down. “I need to feel you inside me.”
He pulled his fingers from me and gently put me down. Reaching into his back pocket, he took out a condom and set it on the arm of the couch. His belt buckle hit the floor with a loud thud, and he stepped completely out of his pants and underwear.
Still stuck trying to parse out my thoughts, I yanked off my dress and unhooked my bra.
When I didn’t hear the telltale rustle of foil, I looked up at Connor.
He was leaning against the arm of the couch, staring at me as he stroked himself.
My eyes followed the motion, unable to look away.
His jaw ticked as he straightened and closed the distance between us. “Let me.”
Those busted fingers eased down the straps.
Slowly, the cups fell, and I was left bare.
Despite the hot, stuffy apartment, my nipples pebbled, drawing his hot gaze.
He slid his hands down my sides until they grazed my hips.
Hooking the waistband, he pulled my panties down, dropping kisses along the way.
I shivered at his calloused touch on the back of my thighs, the rough skin adding an unfamiliar sensation to his gentle caresses.
I stepped out of my underwear, and Connor stood.
His throat bobbed, and he licked his lips as his gaze traveled the length of my body. “You’re fucking perfect,” he said, reaching out to me before his hands froze midair. “Should I?” He made a lifting gesture.
I frowned and looked back at the cream wall. “I think the moment’s passed.”
When our eyes finally met, we lunged at each other. He crushed my plush curves against his hard body. Our mouths fused, teeth clicked, and tongues tangled. Connor’s fingers twisted in my hair, holding me in place as he poured every ounce of possessiveness into our kiss.