15. Winnie
WINNIE
The moment our lips met, something inside me unraveled completely. Two centuries of caution collapsed the instant that man put his hand on my waist and kissed me like he’d been thinking about it for far too long.
Which, judging from the sound he made when I pulled him closer, he absolutely had.
His mouth moved against mine, warm and eager and just restrained enough to make it worse. He slid his hand from my waist to my hip while the other braced against the kitchen counter beside me, like he was trying very hard to remain a gentleman.
I, unfortunately, had significantly less interest in preserving gentlemanly behavior.
Perhaps because I hadn’t been kissed properly in an embarrassingly long time.
Perhaps because I had spent the better part of two centuries denying myself anything resembling stability or tenderness.
Or perhaps because Conrad Lawrence looked devastating in gray sweatpants and a wrinkled T-shirt.
Especially when he stared at me at like I was something precious.
Whatever the reason, I kissed him harder.
He exhaled against my mouth, pressing me against the countertop until his body was flush with mine. The heat of him enveloped me, searing into me as his fingers tightened on my hip.
“You are,” he muttered breathlessly between kisses, “ridiculously distracting.”
I laughed against his mouth. “You started this.”
“I distinctly remember you admitting mutual guilt.” His forehead dropped briefly against mine as he chuckled.
He kissed me again, slower this time, and whatever humor had existed dissolved, turning into something heavier. Something far more intentional.
His hand slid beneath my hair at the nape of my neck while mine curled against his chest.
I could feel his heartbeat against my breasts. Strong and fast.
Human.
The thought caught me completely off guard.
I had spent so long distancing myself from people that moments like this almost felt unreal now. I was in a safe, warm kitchen with a good man, who was kissing me like he genuinely wanted me there.
Conrad broke the kiss. His eyes moved slowly across my face, like he was still surprised I was allowing this to happen.
“You’re beautiful.”
My stomach tightened painfully. Men had called me many things over the years. Beautiful was common. But Conrad said it like it mattered to him.
Before I could say a word, his lips were on mine again, his hands wandering with significantly less restraint. One settled at my thigh. The other traced my waist.
I inhaled sharply into his mouth when his fingers dug into the curve of my hip.
Conrad froze immediately. “Too much?”
“No,” I said far too quickly.
A sudden, heavy heat darkened his eyes. “Oh,” he murmured softly.
He picked me up and set me on the counter. A startled gasp left me, and I grabbed his shoulders automatically, my legs parting to make room for his body.
“Sorry,” he said, not sounding remotely sorry. “Wanted you higher.”
I stared at him for half a second. “That was really attractive.”
“Good.”
This man, this formerly exhausted workaholic widower, had been hiding an entire personality underneath quarterly reports and bedtime routines.
His mouth found my neck then, trailing warm kisses just beneath my jaw while his hands slid beneath the fabric at my waist.
Every nerve ending I possessed seemed to wake up all at once. It had been so long since someone touched me like this. Conrad’s touch wasn’t hurried or transactional—God help me, I hoped it wasn’t temporary. His touch was reverent… like he wanted to learn me.
I threaded my fingers through his hair, suddenly understanding why women in romance novels were always losing their minds over that particular experience.
Conrad made a low sound against my throat, and my entire body reacted instantly.
“Well,” I breathed. “You found the spot.”
He laughed softly against my skin, his hands moving carefully but confidently over my body. Every time I responded, he seemed almost startled by his own boldness. Like part of him still couldn’t believe this was happening.
Honestly, I felt the same way.
Then his palm brushed my breast through my dress.
We both paused.
Conrad looked at me, a question in his eyes.
I nodded once.
That was all the encouragement he needed. His firm hand closed over my breast, and I moaned at the touch.
His eyes darkened. “Oh.”
“That’s becoming your favorite word.”
“You’re making coherent language difficult.”
His mouth curved briefly before he caught my bottom lip between his.
The tension that had been building for weeks finally had somewhere to go. It released through his hands, through my legs around his waist, through his mouth against mine as I dragged my fingers through his hair hard enough to make him groan.
I wanted him. Now. Here. In the middle of the kitchen.
The truth crashed through me with alarming intensity when his hand took hold of the hem of my dress and lifted it up until my legs were completely exposed. He slipped his hand under my dress and rubbed my thigh.
Heat curled low in my stomach.
Conrad kissed me slower then, like he was trying to savor every reaction he pulled from me.
“Winnie,” he murmured against my mouth.
I deepened the kiss instead of answering because hearing my name falling from his lips like that was far too intimate.
His fingers traced higher.
My entire body tightened instinctively.
Was this really going to happen? I spread my legs wider, my body shaking from anticipation. Conrad’s fingertips found the edge of my lace panties, then slipped underneath.
I held my breath. The world turned still. And Conrad brushed his fingertips over my clit.
“Oh, God,” I groaned into his neck.
The pad of his middle finger found the center of my clit and began circling the sensitive bud in slow, agonizing circles.
My hips bucked against him, but it felt too damn good for me to be embarrassed.
He slid his finger down along me.
“God, Winnie. You’re so damn wet for me.”
“Mmm,” was all I could manage.
His middle finger slipped inside me, and I groaned, wrapping my legs tighter around his waist. I couldn’t get close enough. I wanted him inside me.
My hand shifted from his neck to the waistband of his sweatpants. Then, I had a full understanding of Conrad’s intentions. My hand lightly skimmed over his massive erection, and Conrad growled.
And then?—
Car engine.
Driveway.
Children.
I jerked back instantly. “Stop.”
Conrad blinked at me in a daze. “What?”
“The children.”
“What about?—”
Car doors slammed outside.
His eyes widened. “Fuck.”
“Yes.”
We separated frantically, like two teenagers caught making out in the basement. Conrad tried to smooth his hair, which only made it worse. I jumped off the counter and nearly fell because my legs had abruptly lost all structural integrity.
“I’ve forgotten how to walk,” I muttered.
“What?”
“Nothing. Fix your shirt.”
His shirt was partially caught on his abs where I’d felt him up, and my lipstick was on his mouth. We barely got ourselves assembled into something resembling respectable adults before the front door burst open.
“We have returned!” CJ announced dramatically.
Billie ran inside first at full speed. “Daddy are you dead?”
Conrad straightened. “Encouraging start.”
CJ and Billie swarmed him as Bianca entered, carrying three stuffed toys and a funnel cake larger than her torso.
CJ narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Conrad. “Did you take medicine?”
“Yes.”
“Hydrate?”
“Yes.”
“Any aura symptoms?”
“Some earlier.”
Billie gasped loudly. “Have you traveled outside the country in the last ninety days?”
Conrad stared at her. “Billie. You live with me.”
“I saw it on television.”
Bianca gave him an analytical once-over. “You do appear less squinty.”
“Thank you?”
The children continued interrogating him with surprising seriousness while I tried very hard not to look like their father had just finger-fucked me on the kitchen counter.
Unfortunately, I could still feel Conrad’s eyes on me. And that did not help matters.
When Amethyst entered the kitchen, she glanced between Conrad and me. Her brows rose slightly, and she pursed her lips almost imperceptibly.
Oh no. She’d definitely noticed something. To her credit, she said nothing, just wandered toward me while the children continued conducting medical evaluations on their father.
“You survived a day at the amusement park.” I tried to sound light and casual, but I could hear the strain in my voice.
“We had a wonderful time,” Amethyst said. Her eyes flicked briefly toward Conrad before returning to me with unmistakable amusement.
“I wanted to thank you,” she murmured.
“For what?”
“For him.” She nodded in Conrad’s direction.
I blinked.
Amethyst adjusted one of her bracelets absently before continuing. “Conrad seems…” She hesitated. “Better.”
I glanced at the children as they pretended to play doctor with their father. “He loves them very much.”
“I know.” She let out a slow, quiet breath. “But grief turned him into a machine for a while. All he did was work and survive. The kids loved him anyway, but…”
“They missed him.”
“Yes,” she agreed.
She looked toward the children fondly. “They seem happier now, too.”
I swallowed unexpectedly hard. “They’re wonderful children.”
“They are,” Amethyst agreed. “And significantly less feral than before.”
“That remains up for debate.”
She laughed softly. “No, truly. The difference is enormous. They’re not as guarded, and they seem more open to care-free days, like today, without a dark cloud hanging over their heads.
I’m assuming I have you to thank for all of this—at least partially.
So thank you.” She looked down at her bracelets, her voice dropping to a softer, more reflective register. “My sister would’ve liked you.”
I wasn’t prepared for how much I wanted to hear that, and I didn’t know what to say. Jade still existed everywhere in the house. In the children. In Conrad. In the carefully preserved pieces of her life still tucked quietly into corners.
And despite everything happening between Conrad and me now, I had never once forgotten that.
Amethyst smiled gently at my silence.
Then, because emotional devastation had reached its legal limit for the afternoon, she abruptly pointed at my sunglasses resting on the counter. “Now seriously. Where the hell did you get those?”
I laughed. “You like them?”
“Do I like them? I fucking need them.”
I laughed. “I’m ashamed to say that they’re absurdly expensive.”
She waved me off. “I used to model. My standards are skewed.”
That startled an actual laugh out of me. I pulled out my phone immediately. “I’ll send you the link.”
“You’re an angel.” She gave me her number, and I saved it on my phone.
Across the room, Conrad gave me the same look that’d almost devastated me before. It was heavy and intent, still slightly dazed from what’d happened between us.
Heat rushed into my face. I turned abruptly before anyone could notice. “Well,” I said quickly. “I should probably head home.”
Billie gasped. “Already?”
“Yes, but I’ll see you tomorrow.”
CJ narrowed his eyes suspiciously at both me and Conrad. The boy had the unsettling intuition of a future novelist. Bianca looked from me to her father, then slowly returned to her funnel cake without comment.
Conrad walked me to the door. Neither of us quite knew what to say, not with the children nearby. Not after?—
Everything.
His hand brushed lightly against mine near the foyer, but it was enough to make my stomach flip.
“Thank you,” he said.
“For what?”
He held my gaze. “Today.”
My pulse stumbled. “You’re welcome.”
I escaped before my self-control fully disintegrated.
But even as I walked toward my car, I could still feel Conrad watching me from the doorway.
Somehow, that felt far more dangerous than the kissing. A kiss could be explained away as poor impulse control. It could be blamed on proximity, loneliness, or the adrenaline of the moment. Watching someone leave was different. That wasn’t about temptation. That was about wishing they hadn’t gone.