17. Connor
Connor
Artina Artmond, the local channel’s reporter, to whom Declan promised an interview, followed us to the designer’s house. Of course she did. Any self-respecting journalist would’ve followed her strongest lead. She ran after the car with her heels.
In a beautiful, luxury-salon-style space with dresses everywhere, Dina and Ekatia are behind the curtains with people fitting them into undergarments. I lounge by the window with Hanna, who’s slobbering over her little fists, eating a soft cinnamon cookie.
The reporter sits across from us, her cameraman already set up on my right.
“You’re welcome to take off your shoes,” I tell the reporter as she sets up for the quick interview.
I don’t intend to take Artina out on Friday night.
I just wanted to see if Ekatia would react.
She needs to be tested, pushed, before she’s cornered.
And I will corner her. I want answers only she can provide.
The reporter slides off her shoes and sighs audibly. “Thanks,” she says.
“What for?”
“Letting me take my shoes off.”
I smile. “I didn’t realize you needed my permission.” From across the room, I see the curtains behind which Ekatia is getting dressed part slightly. She’s peeking out at us.
Artina blushes. If I let her, she’d suck my dick. I wouldn’t let her. I don’t like her mouth.
“She looks just like you,” Artina says, changing the subject back to me.
On my lap, Hanna smiles, showing her cute dimples. “It’s the dimples,” I say and smile, showing Artina mine.
The reporter flushes more, and patches of red appear on her chest. She’s wearing a V-neck T-shirt, and since I’m a competitive man, I can’t help but notice that Ekatia’s tits would look better in the same shirt.
“When did you meet the mom?” she asks, fishing for information about the baby. For all she knows, Hanna is Declan and Dina’s baby. It could be my uncle’s baby. Mine, even. But Artina articulates her questions well. I respect that.
“A few months ago.”
“Are you guys together?”
“The mom is dead.” I give her my dad’s deranged grin. Hanna smiles at me because she is the only innocent in the room and can’t tell the difference between my smile and my dad’s crazy grin. Artina can and freezes like a deer in headlights.
“I’m joking,” I tell her.
“Oh my God,” she chokes out. “Thank God, for a moment there you looked so much like Massio Crossbow.”
“I am my father’s son.”
“Of course, I didn’t meant it—”
“No need to apologize. I’m glad he’s dead. Back to Hanna. Her mom is camera shy.” I look at the parted curtain behind which Ekatia hides, even though her baby is sitting on my lap during an interview that will air as soon as it’s edited. They won’t edit out Hanna unless I tell them to.
“Is the mom here?”
“Maybe.”
“Would you rather we talked about what happened at the hospital last year?”
“I would rather we meet on Friday night and talk about whatever you want to talk about. Or we don’t have to talk at all.”
Artina starts to sweat. “I’m seeing someone,” she whispers.
“What was that?”
“I’m seeing someone.”
“I don’t know if you know that my mother was seeing someone when Massio forced her to marry him.”
Artina glances at the door.
The camera stops rolling, and the man steps from behind it. “I think we should leave.”
“You think? Why did you follow me when I promised you an interview already?”
Artina might hyperventilate, but she’s smart and grabs her shoes from under her chair. “I just wanted to see where you’re headed. You let me in the building.”
“I can’t very well leave you outside and have you report from there, drawing more attention to my family’s private affairs.
I promised you an interview. I told you to drop the other event and clear the street.
You decided not to tell anyone to clear the street.
You followed me here. Those are your decisions, not mine.
What I do with how you’ve reacted, namely, choosing not to listen to me and do what I asked of you, is now up to me.
Get the fuck out of here,” I order. “If you follow me again, you’ll need new legs. ”
Renne
“Come out, little mouse.”
When I’m sure the news crew has left, I sling back the curtain and march toward where Connor is sprawled with Hanna on her belly on his chest. I stop between his long legs and grip the armrests of the chair.
“What the hell are you thinking, putting my baby on the news?” I hiss, wishing I could yell at him. Or slap him. But he’s holding my daughter and disarming me for no good reason. Damn it!
Since I’m hovering over him, he tilts his head back, exposing his Adam’s apple. His blue eyes hood. “When you come at me aggressively like that, you better either jump on my lap or get on your knees.”
“Hush. The baby.”
“She understands nothing, and she’s about to take a nap. Perfect timing.” A man dressed in tactical pants rolls in a black stroller. It’s one of those sleek, futuristic-looking, egg-shaped strollers with gold trim.
Connor jerks his head toward the stroller. “Put her in, Mamma.”
I take a moment to internally rebel against this gift, but it’s for my baby, and it’s a beautiful stroller I could never afford. “Thank you.” I put Hanna on her blanket and cover her with a spare from the diaper bag, then linger for a moment. She looks so cute in there.
Connor stands. “You’re on babysitting duty.”
The man in tactical pants, who looks like he could take on a medium-sized enemy village all by himself, appears terrified. “What do I do?”
“Sit here and do nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“Well, you can stroll her over by the corner where there’s more sun. She’ll get some vitamin D.” Connor grabs my hand and drags me back to the dressing room.
“I don’t want my baby on TV.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“That’s what I said. Though I’m curious why you didn’t come and get her yourself.”
“I was half naked. Besides, you were hitting on that reporter.”
“I was?”
“Yes, you were. Friday night,” I assume my best Connor voice. “We don’t have to talk at all.”
“You sound jealous.” He tucks my hair behind my ear.
I slap his hand away. “You can’t put my baby on the news ever again.”
“Oh, but I can.” He grips my wrist and guides my hand toward his groin, where he forces my hand open and cups himself with it. Connor Crossbow is big.
I squeeze harder.
He hisses but doesn’t let me pull my hand away. “I can put your baby on the news. I can put you on the news. I can do whatever I want. You have no control over what I can and can’t do.”
I scoff. “Thank you for that reminder.”
“Welcome. I already told you I won’t. It’s done. The two black dresses you picked out? Which will you wear to the wedding?”
“I’m not sure yet. There are still a few more to try.”
He moves my hand over his pants, up and down his dick. “Wrong answer.”
I can’t get over how big he is. I thought he exaggerated when he talked about his length. “What’s the right answer?”
“Whichever one pleases you most.”
“Okay, I’ll wear whichever one pleases you most.” I unbuckle his belt.
“It’s the one you’re wearing.”
“But you haven’t seen me in the others.”
“I don’t need to. You could wear a polar bear costume, and I’d still like it on you.”
“Don’t…” I close my eyes, open them, tug his zipper down. “Don’t say stuff like that to me.”
“Hey, Dina,” Connor shouts. “How long till you come out?”
I slap a hand over his mouth. “You’re going to wake up the baby.”
Connor removes my hand. “The baby sleeps like a hibernating bear. I’m on the phone yelling at idiots while she sleeps on my chest all the time.”
“I need about five more minutes,” Dina shouts back. “I didn’t like the three I put on. I think this one is a winner. Did they bring champagne?”
Connor looks at his watch. “You can get on your knees, or I’ll take you up against this wall.”
I drop to my knees and take him out. He’s pierced, as promised, and I swipe my thumb over the piercing, which makes Connor groan. I stroke over eight inches of him. “It’s a beautiful dick.” I compliment him. “The piercing looks gorgeous.”
“Hello?” Dina calls.
“I sent them to the store for orange juice,” Connor says to Dina. He shows me his stopwatch, which reads one minute. He hits Go, and the digits fly.
Immediately, I deep throat him and roll my eyes at the taste of him, clean and masculine, and as I bob my head, working my mouth over his length, the piercing hits the back of my throat.
Gagging, my eyes filled with tears, I continue, but faster.
I cup his sac with one hand and the base of him with the other while making eye contact with him.
Connor falls back against the wall. His hands come to rest on my head.
He pinches my cheek as he bites down on his bottom lip.
“Such a good girl,” he says. “Almost there.” He fists my hair, then thrusts into my mouth.
He jabs himself so far inside that I gag loudly, but he doesn’t let up, so I keep gagging, effectively swallowing everything he shoves down my throat.
I reach behind my head and feel for his stopwatch. I hit Stop, then wipe my mouth as I stand. The timer reads 67s. I pout. “You did it faster. You win.”
Connor tucks himself into his pants.
“Almost out. Did you find anything, Ekatia?” Dina asks.
“Yes. I’m wearing a little black dress.”
“Classic,” Dina says. “We need nice jewelry for you.”
Shit. I can’t afford that. “I can wear, like, a scarf or something.”
Connor encircles my neck with both hands and squeezes until the blood rushes into my cheeks. I don’t know what it says about me, but instead of being alarmed that he’s cutting off my airway, my shoulders slump, and I relax into his hold.
“What am I going to do with you?” He releases my throat and steps out of the dressing area.
I take a moment to collect myself, touching my neck where he gripped it.
I don’t understand what happens to me when I’m with this man.
It’s as if he can tap into my deepest desires and forbid me from hiding them.
A man dressed in a suit rolls in a cart with champagne and orange juice.
Soon, we’re sipping mimosas. I look around and imagine living this kind of life.
It’s a weekend, and I’m trying on dresses, talking about buying jewelry, with my hair already done, wearing light makeup, and my baby sleeps by the window in a space stroller with gold trim.
Even if I’m not a material girl, the comfort of this life is undeniable.
Dina walks out wearing a breathtaking gown.
Layers of ivory silk tulle paired with lace and a form-fitting corset-style top with a plunging neckline with a trim of hand-sewn florals and pearls.
The skirt part of the dress flares out from the waist into a dramatic, voluminous cloud with shimmer provided by the pearly glow.
Connor whistles.
I gape. “Oh my God, Dina, the dress! You wear it so beautifully. It’s stunning. What do you think?”
“I like it.”
“How many have you tried?” Connor asks.
“Five.”
“Why didn’t you come out so we could see?” I ask.
“They weren’t the right ones. I have two more I think might look nice.” Dina walks over, grabs a drink, and sips. She picks up a tissue and wipes the corner of my mouth. “You have something white there,” she says.
I snap my head toward Connor, who smiles the most wicked grin I’ve ever seen.
There he was this entire time, looking at me and not saying a damn thing about his cum on my face.
If looks could kill, mine would cut him down now.
But for more dramatics, and in case he doesn’t understand that I’m trying to slay him with the force of my gaze, I narrow my eyes at him.
That just makes him laugh.
Dina looks between us.
“You look like you stepped out of a fairy tale,” I tell her.
She beams. “You think so?”
“I think this might be the dress.”
“I think you might be right. How about you? That looks sexy as sin on you.” Dina lifts my chin with a finger. “You’ve got gorgeous collarbones. Definitely need a necklace.” She steps in front of a mirror, and we follow.
“Do you think he’ll like it?” she asks, looking at Connor’s reflection in the mirror.
He’s watching me, but he says, “Mmhm.”
“Are you sure?” Dina’s now also looking at me. I can see myself blushing, so I hide behind him.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” Connor says. “When did you say the rehearsal dinner was scheduled?”
Dina gives him the date and time.
“See you then,” Connor says before leaving.