Page 55 of Playing the Player

“If anyone changes the way they see you after knowing that,” I take his hand in mine, “then they don’t deserve a place in your life.” His fingers tighten around mine. “Conor, you are one of the kindest people I have ever met.”

He shakes his head. “Sash-”

“No.” I squeeze his hand tighter. “You are. You’re generous. You’d do anything for the people that you love. You make everyone around you laugh. You have got the biggest heart of anyone I know.”

His throat bobs as he tries hard to swallow. “You shouldn’t say things like that just for the sake of it, Sash.”

“I’m not saying them because I think you need to hear them.” I take a step closer. “I’m saying them because they’re true.”

Conor’s gaze searches mine, as though he’s trying to find even the smallest hint that I’m lying. He won’t. Because I’m not. I lift my hand, gently cupping his cheek. For a heartbeat, neither of us moves. Neither of us breathes.

Then, Conor’s hand slides carefully around my waist, pulling me flush against him. “You really mean it, Angel?” I can feel the rapid beat of his heart against my chest. I can feel his warmth seeping into me. I can feel everything.

“Yes.” I say in a breathy whisper. God, I wanna kiss him. I shouldn’t want it, but I do. He was just open with me, telling me something he’s only ever told one other person. He trusts me enough that he told me his secret and that stirs up feelings inside me that I know it shouldn’t. It just makes all the feelings that I’ve tried to keep down bubble up to the surface, begging to be set free.

Conor presses his forehead against mine, the space between us disappearing. The vulnerability in his deep blue eyes slowly melts into something softer. Something warmer.

He’s looking at me like I’m the only person in the world.

My pulse pounds in my ears. I know what’s about to happen. I should stop it, but I don’t want to.

Conor closes the distance first. His lips find mine in a gentle kiss that quickly deepens as I melt into him. This kiss is full of everything we’ve been trying not to say. Every lingering glance. Every almost-touch. Every moment we’ve convinced ourselves means nothing.

Each kiss we have is dragging me into this thing between us deeper and deeper, but this one is more.

Suddenly, it’s like a switch has been flipped. What started as slow kisses full of so much meaning, has changed into deep hungry kisses full of need.

Conor’s hand threads through my hair, tugging gently. I moan into his mouth as his tongue brushes against mine. We haven't kissed like this since that night at the bar. It’s possessive and intoxicating and I can’t get enough. I need more.

Conor spins me around, my ass bumping into the kitchen counter and his hands slide down my body, grabbing the backs of my thighs and then lifting me onto the worktop. I part my legs for his body to fit against mine. We’re at the perfect height. His hardness presses against where I need to feel him the most and I moan into his mouth again.

He takes my bottom lip between his teeth, pulling gently before running his tongue along it to soothe the ache. His lips move from mine, to my jaw, to my neck, kissing, sucking, licking every inch of skin he can find. I arch my back, pressing my tits against his firm chest. My thighs tremble and my nipples harden as he sucks on the sensitive spot beneath my ear.

“You’re so fucking perfect, Sash.” Conor says, coming up for air before he takes my mouth again.

He can’t say things like that to me, especially when he’s devouring me like this. How am I supposed to say goodbye to him when he keeps acting like I’m the only woman in the world? You don’t have to say goodbye to him. Oh, shut up. I do have to. I’m not ready for this.

I'm dragged back to the present when Conor's hand moves from my hair, down to my shoulder and slowly moves towards my breast. Oh fuck! That should not make me this wet. When he pinches my nipple through my clothes, I almost fold over. Thank God I'm sitting down or I would be a messy puddle on the floor right about now.

“Fuck, Sasha, you’re beautiful.” The words settle somewhere dangerously deep inside me. Conor releases my nipple, his hand moving lower and lower. Fuck! I need him to touch me.

When his finger tips glide along the inside of my thighs, reality crashes back in. No. I can’t do this. We can’t do this.

I pull away, not because I want to, but because I have to. I shove him off me with more force than necessary, hopping off the counter and avoiding his gaze. If I look into those deep blue eyes right now I know I’ll cave and kiss him again.

Confusion flashes across his face. “Sash?”

“I…” My voice catches in my throat. “I should go.”

Conor’s eyebrows knit together. “What just happened?”

“Nothing.” I squeak out, the lie sounding terrible even to me. “I just remembered that I have to do something.”

“Sasha.”

“I’ll call you.” I grab my keys and phone from the small table by the door and hightailing it out of there as fast as I can.

My heart pounds painfully in my chest all the way to the elevator. When the doors close, I lean back against the wall, covering my face with both hands.