Page 27

27

STAR

The moment the bedroom door closed behind me, I pressed my back to it and covered my face with my hands.

I could still feel his breath against my nape. The tender trail of his finger down my neck. The way he kissed the top of my spine. How his tongue tip had traced the sensitive skin.

The tiny hairs on my nape were still standing at attention from the sensory memory alone. Never mind the violent reactions in my core—Mount Vesuvius probably hadn’t been as active before she’d devastated Pompeii with her wrath.

On edge, I whispered a solid truth that I needed to hear out loud: “That was Conor.”

Conor.

The man I’d been growing closer to for almost two years now had been the one to make me feel these things. To make me shudder with want. To make me wet with need.

The idea shouldn’t have been nerve-wracking, but it was.

Tiredly, I rubbed my eyes before I let my hands drop to my sides then strode over to the cases the servants had unpacked for me while I’d been dealing with my rig.

Because I traveled light, I didn’t have that many wardrobe options, but I dragged on a pair of skinny jeans and a cotton tank that came with built-in tit support.

After I’d used the restroom, I stared at myself in the mirror over the vanity, hands wet as I splashed cold water onto my face.

With no artifice to hide behind, the water stripping me bare, I sighed.

It was me.

No change there.

I forced myself to glance at the reflection of my eyes. There were shadows beneath them, but as always, it was the shadows in them that concerned me.

Did I look as dead inside as I felt?

The thought had me glancing away.

I finished washing up, left the bathroom, and returned to the living room which was where I found Conor with his legs cocked on the table, his own computer on his lap, a phone in each hand, a tablet to the side, a smaller laptop next to it. Within easy reach, there were two external mice and a spare keyboard that glowed like a rainbow.

My lips quirked at the sight. “Of course you’d go for the rainbow setting.”

His gaze drifted from his monitor to me. As he spoke, he scanned me, and I swore I felt the path he took as if he’d touched me with his hand. “I like rainbows,” he admitted.

“I’ve seen your office. It’s space age, not hippy.”

“I take my rainbows where I can find them. It’s the Irish in me.” He winked. “I’ve always been on the hunt for that pot of gold.” How he eyed me up and down told me that I was the pot of gold. And I wasn’t averse to that imagery. “Anyway, at least I don’t like holo.”

“That’s for Kat,” I joked.

“We can’t all appreciate navy blue and brown,” he chastised, pointing at the leather cases and slip-on pouches from which I’d unpacked my gear.

“I like demure colors,” I retorted.

“Nah, you’re too used to fading into the background for your own good.” He tipped his head to the side as if he were envisioning me in another color. The woman in me wondered which color he’d prefer. The spy didn’t give a fuck—she preferred her ‘fade into the background’ uniform.

“Your phone keeps buzzing,” he informed me, lips twitching as if he knew what I was thinking.

I blinked at the change of subject. Though I was accustomed to that in our chats, it still jolted me when he did it in person. “Probably missed call notifications,” I dismissed.

Walking over to my cell phone, I saw it had gotten enough charge to have switched itself on, then I grimaced when it registered how many times Katina had called.

“Conor…?”

“Call her now,” he ordered softly. “I’m working on some other shit. Take your time.”

I sent him a grateful look and tapped on her name.

She answered within seconds. “STAR!” she screamed before immediately bursting into tears.

The sound tore me to fucking shreds and I regretted falling asleep last night without ringing her beforehand. She should have been my first port of call after I’d finished eating with that fucker who called himself my grandfather.

Not much made me cry anymore. When you’d gone to hell and back, you just adapted to the misery of this existence. But hearing her sob tore at my heartstrings like nothing else could.

“Baby, I’m sorry I missed your calls. I’m sorry. So sorry,” I whispered, not even realizing I was saying it over and over again until she started sniffling in my ear. “I’m sorry, Kat, sweetheart. So?—”

“Promise you won’t do that again!” she sobbed.

I had no idea why I did it—but I looked at Conor. He shot me a gentle smile then surprised me by dumping his laptop on the table and striding over to me.

As he slipped his arm around my waist and drew me toward the couch, I told my kid, “I swear I’ll never break another promise.”

She hiccupped in my ear. “That’s not what I asked for!”

“Kat, Star didn’t mean to cut contact with you. Sometimes, life just has a habit of breaking promises for us.”

More sniffling sounded, then she whispered, “Conor?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

The next moment, I received a video call request, and I accepted it so she could see us.

“I knew you’d find her,” she cried, joy and relief making her bloodshot eyes bright as she swiped at her cheeks with her knuckles. “I knew it!”

Thickly, I swallowed, rasping, “You sent the right person to find me, baby.”

“I-I thought long and hard about it and knew he’d come and get you. Maverick’s sick again so I knew I couldn’t ask him, but…” She hunched her shoulders. “Don’t let Alessa tell you that I ran away.”

I arched a brow. “Don’t ‘let’ her tell me? Did that happen or not?”

That sparkle I was used to seeing in her eyes was back with a vengeance. “In a sense, yes.”

“‘In a sense.’ Have you been watching The West Wing again?”

Conor chuckled as he pulled us back into the couch. My shoulders were still hunched into him, but the position encouraged me to relax.

“I haven’t not been watching it.”

“This isn’t a courtroom, Kat,” I grumbled.

“You should treat life like it is, Star,” came the reprimand from my preteen kid. “Then if people take ligitious action?—”

“Litigious,” I corrected.

“—then you’re prepared.”

“You don’t have to be prepared. You’re ten.”

“Nearly eleven.”

“In ten months. So ancient.”

“I know,” Kat said smoothly. “My wisdom knows no bounds.”

I slapped a hand against my forehead. “I don’t need Alessa to tell me that you ran away to Manhattan to find Conor. I need to tell her to change the pin code on the TV!”

Her nose crinkled. “Don’t do that. I learn loads.”

Like how to be more precocious…

My grin made an appearance because the last thing I wanted was for her to change. “You know you did wrong.”

“You’re not supposed to smile when you tell kids off,” Conor whispered in my ear.

“Says who?”

“Speak up, Conor,” my kid groused. “It’s rude to whisper.”

Conor laughed. “It doesn’t matter, Katina.”

“That means it does,” she said with a pout.

Knowing I had to make a point, I brought us back to the subject at hand. “What happened after Conor took you home?”

Katina ducked her head. “Maverick punched him and he hit his head on the ground. But I didn’t know that was going to happen! Maverick’s the bad one. Why didn’t his mom tell him you’re not supposed to hit people like you told me?”

Fuck. I nearly choked on my laughter as I managed to get out, “Our actions have consequences, Kat.”

“Conor found you though.”

“He did.” She had me there.

“He wouldn’t have found you if I hadn’t asked him to go looking. You would still be lost.”

Conor cleared his throat. “I’d been searching for her for a while, Katina. I know you wanted to speak to me because you were scared, but it scared me to think that you ran away from Jersey and came into the city alone.

“New York isn’t safe for little girls.”

“New York isn’t safe for big girls,” I retorted.

He winced. “Star’s right.”

Kat crinkled her nose. “I won’t do it again. I’m really sorry Maverick smacked you, Conor. Alessa made him sleep on the couch because of it after she stopped crying when she saw I was back.” Knowing what was incoming, I waited for the drum roll... “Star, why is sleeping on the couch a punishment? I like sleeping on the couch.”

“You like watching TV before bed,” I quipped. “You don’t like the couch. Plus, you’re little.”

“I’m not that little!”

“You’re littler than Maverick, aren’t you?” I argued.

She pouted. “Not by much.”

“By two and a half feet,” I drawled.

“That’s not much.”

“It makes all the difference on a couch,” Conor teased, which considering how we’d spent the night, had me turning to him with a laugh.

Kat flicked a glance between us, then slowly, she asked, “When are you coming home? I miss your PB&J sandwiches.”

“I’ve found a way to get to the people who hurt me, Kat,” I admitted. “It won’t be for a while. But I will have more time to call you now. I—” The word ‘promise’ was on the tip of my tongue.

Conor squeezed my arm. “I’m here now, Kat. You know she’s safe because we’re always safe when we’re with family.”

Jesus, his words made me want to cry as much as her tears had.

Confusion bled into her expression. “You’re not family though,” she answered him, her tone careful.

Gruffly, he corrected, “Family can be chosen.”

“Star chose me,” Katina agreed.

“And I choose you both,” was his light reply.

With an imperious glare, she stared down her nose at him. “Will you look after her?”

“I will.”

“You said you’d bring her home to me.”

There was no hiding the accusation there. “And I will. Just when the time’s right.”

Now, she started squinting at him, her nose scrunched up, but she began to nod. Then, she broke me some more—her bottom lip trembled. “I missed you, Star.”

“I missed you too, baby.” Being away from her hurt more than I’d expected. She was my kid. I didn’t give a fuck who’d given birth to her. Didn’t care whose DNA she shared and whose blood ran through her veins. She was mine . I kept my possessive thoughts to myself and, with a warning note, queried, “Are you going to be good for Alessa and Maverick?”

“I’m always good.”

“Well, we know that’s a lie,” I mocked.

My kid wafted a hand. “I had to fix things.”

“It’s my job to fix stuff,” I corrected before something occurred to me. “Are you covering your eyes when people kiss on TV?”

She giggled. “Yes.”

That meant no.

“If you don’t, I really will tell Alessa to change the pin code.”

“I’ll change it back.” She tipped her nose up. “I’m a strong, independent woman, Star.” She spoiled that by crying, “Girl Power,” then cascading into even more giggles.

I smiled at the sight of her rolling around like a lunatic and, shaking my head, drawled, “I’ll call you later on before bedtime. Tell Maverick I want to talk to him?”

“You’ll call before bedtime?”

“I will. Don’t forget to tell Maverick?” At her excited nod, I winked at her. “Be good.”

“I’ll try. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

I let her cut the call then I turned my face into Conor’s throat, not even bothering to ask why that was so easy to do, and I let the impossible happen—I allowed the dam to burst.

He embraced me through it. Silently. Didn’t say a damn thing. Just let me loop my arms around his waist and clutch at him.

The tears burned like a corrosive as they coursed down my cheeks and he held me together as I fell apart.

I’d let her down so badly.

“She’s okay, Star.”

I clenched my eyes closed. “More by luck than anything else.”

“She snuck out when Maverick had a hospital appointment.” His hand smoothed over my hair. “It was an aberration, and now that they know she has mad skills like her mom, they’ll be watching out for her more.

“But there won’t be any need for that, will there? She’s a good kid. As long as you call her, she’ll stick fast to her home until you’re back.”

“When I think what could have happened?—”

“No point in thinking of what ‘could have’ happened,” he interrupted firmly, “It didn’t. She’s fine. Safe. Happy to have heard from you and even happier that you’re calling her tonight.”

“You’re right,” I whispered, inwardly sighing when he started to pull away from me.

Before disappointment could take over, his hand dipped into his pocket and he withdrew a packet of Sour Patch Kids.

Biting my lip at the sight, I accepted the treat with a soft snicker. As I opened the bag, the first piece of candy I removed, I placed against his lips, chuckling when he took my offering then nipped my finger.

Taking a piece for myself, I asked, “You really meant that, didn’t you?”

He knew exactly what my mind had focused on. “About choosing you both?”

Awkwardly, I nodded.

“You know I have.”

“I think you’re crazy to pick me, but I won’t argue.”

“Like I said yesterday—” He winked. “—insanity runs in the family.”

“That works out to my benefit then.”

“It does,” he agreed, eyes twinkling.

His expression was so much brighter than I’d have thought. He was brighter. That came across on the chats, but this was different.

This was real.

He was the bubbles in a bottle of champagne and I hadn’t anticipated how badly I needed that effervescence in my life.

Like always, when hope rose, it immediately sank.

Turning my face away from him and dropping the bag of candy on the coffee table, I muttered, “Everyone leaves me, Conor.”

His hand grabbed mine and his fingers slipped against my knuckles, forming a bridge between us as he stated, “ Everyone doesn’t matter. Only you. Only me. And only Katina.”

That had me nipping the inside of my cheek between my molars. “Don’t give me promises you can’t keep.”

He sat up, his hand coming to cup my chin. “That wasn’t a promise.”

“What was it?”

“A statement of intent.”

“Do you watch The West Wing too?”

His chuckle eased some of the tightness in my chest. “I watched it when it first aired but not since then. My tastes have evolved.”

“Into Downton Abbey and Bridgerton ?” I inquired politely.

He smirked at me, his thumb running down the line of my jaw. “I don’t have them on a constant loop.”

“Good to know because I’d have to break the TV if you did,” I joked, trying not to close my eyes when his thumb reached the underside of my chin where a sensitive patch of skin had me squirming in my seat.

“You going to rip Maverick a new asshole?”

“What do you think?”

“I think he did his best, and you can’t keep someone sneaky inside when they want out.”

“You’re defending him?”

“Not particularly. I just don’t think there was a snowball’s chance in hell of keeping Katina away from me when she believed I was the only one who’d bring you back.”

My shoulders sagged at his words because I heard the truth in them.

When the couch jostled slightly, I realized I had closed my eyes. They popped open, only to find that Conor’s face was a lot closer than before. I could see the striations in his irises. The outer rim was umber. Mossy green notes merged with amber before becoming a rich caramel in the tight confines where a fully dilated pupil took up most of the space.

His proximity overloaded the air with his citrus scent, and I breathed it in, watching as he moved ever nearer. So close. Too close. My heart stuttered.

“Can I?”

Trying to find an answer, a verbal one, was impossible. I swallowed. Nodded. Stiffened some more. Then I relaxed when his lips gently brushed mine.

A groan whispered from me.

It was unexpected.

Everything about him was.

That was what I should have expected.

He was a wild card.

The Joker.

I shuddered as his pointer finger propped my chin up, angling my head back so he could press his mouth more firmly against mine.

I wasn’t a passive person. Not by nature. But at that moment, I was.

I let him kiss me.

I allowed him to explore my lips because I had no desire to stop this.

I wanted his kiss.

But it was too?—

I swallowed.

Too everything.

Feeling hurt because I’d locked everything down, grown accustomed to pain, but not of this type.

So, after being in the deep freeze for so long, sensations plucked at my nerve endings, transforming pleasure into bittersweet agony.

The heat puddling in my core was alien.

My nipples actually ached with the need to be caressed.

My hands craved the feel of his hair against my palms because that would ground me.

My lungs burned because I needed air.

But… he gave it to me.

With each deepening exploration, my lips parted more until I had to whimper when his tongue brushed along the inner curve of the flesh inside.

That was when the ice in my veins began to melt, warmth puddling in its place, and I jerked in reaction as something pulled at me, twisting and writhing.

Out of nowhere, as, internally, he brought me back to life, other things came to my attention.

Those citrus notes were clean and tangy, clearing my head and replacing it with awareness of him.

His jaw prickled with stubble that scratched my skin, but it highlighted his tenderness.

Then, there were the ragged sounds of his breathing—they hit my ear drums. Each groan bled with his want. For me. Me . The one-time American cum dump. No one else.

And, there was his taste. Coffee and… jam ? Sweet and syrupy, yet earthy too.

My mouth trembled against his and I pulled back with a jolt. His eyes were closed now, too, but he didn’t move. Just carried on breathing my air as I breathed his.

His confidence was new.

Not unwanted or unwarranted.

Just new.

In our chats, he was always careful. Not wanting to push me too far. I hadn’t expected this . Not so soon. Yet it felt right. I didn’t want to be pushed, but I needed the reminder that I wasn’t supposed to have ice at the heart of me.

I wasn’t just a soldier.

I was maybe made for love too.

When I remained where I was, he let his head tip forward and our foreheads rested against one another. I didn’t want to move. I wanted to stay here forever. We had people to save, but not even a tornado warning would have made me pull away from him.

He was warm.

He smelled good.

I liked him.

What had made me pull back again?

Confused, I tried to make sense of the nonsensical.

Then, it hit me.

With his eyes closed, it made it easier to answer the question he hadn’t asked: “I haven’t kissed anyone in a long time. Sorry if it sucked,” I whispered. Did that sound apologetic? Sure, I’d said the word, but I wasn’t even certain if I meant it.

Why had I said it again?

Oh, embarrassment.

I probably did suck, but he soothed my ridiculous nerves by rocking his forehead to the side, inadvertently massaging mine as he did so. “I’ve wanted to do that for over a year now.”

Relief struck.

“Me too,” I whispered.

And I had.

So why was I nervous again?

Or was I nervous?

What the fuck was even going on with me?

This was Conor.

He’d heard me come over the phone.

We’d talked about anything and everything.

He knew I liked Halo when that was more top secret than Area 51’s real purpose. I knew he had a weird obsession with rom-coms that he let me tease him about.

No, nerves had no place here. Ghosts of the past didn’t either.

“Can I?” I whispered.

“Always.”

So, I angled my chin up and let my mouth press against his this time.

For a moment, neither of us did anything. We just stayed like that. Then I laved my tongue over his bottom lip, tasting remnants of the sour sweetness from the candy I’d rested there, and he groaned again.

That sound was hardwired into my senses.

It was a catalyst—one my body responded to. One that had my hands reaching for his shoulders and gripping them. Not to push away but to pull closer.

His lips parted and I thrust my tongue in deep. No hesitation. No thinking. Just feeling. And it felt better than good, and he tasted better than good too.

I sighed as he let me play, let me take charge this time. His tongue slid against mine, going slow where I was starting to speed up. The sensations began to build. Cravings stirring to life that I didn’t think I’d ever experienced before.

As I slid into the bizarre realization that was wanting him, I released a whimper as I tilted my head so I could get closer.

Fuck, even that wasn’t enough.

I could feel the fire in my veins starting to flicker everywhere, making my heart race and my skin flush.

My hands reached up to cup his face. Without knowing I was doing it, I dragged my fingers through his hair and he immediately jerked back.

For a second, we were both frozen.

Then I remembered.

He didn’t like anyone gripping his hair.

We stared at each other.

Eyes wide open.

And something whispered into my mind:

I will not bend.

I will not break.

That was my mantra.

The truth was—I’d already been broken. I’d already had to bend. That was why I repeated that to myself so often—because it would never happen again. I wouldn’t let it.

But I wasn’t alone.

We were in this together.

We knew what the worst of humanity could do and we were survivors.

Somehow, that laid all our cards on the table. In one fell swoop, we were fully dressed yet totally naked in front of each other.

His nostrils flared as I pushed him back against the couch. Eyes locked on his, I moved slowly, straddling him, giving him time to say no but not stopping until my knees pinned him in place and my pussy found a home above his dick which was hard, despite having pushed one of his triggers.

As we’d done earlier, I rested my forehead on his. “I won’t touch your hair again.”

His hands settled at my hips, the fingers angling downwards so they splayed over my ass cheeks. He didn’t answer me, just instigated another collision of our mouths.

This time, he took charge. Lips locked, tongue drawing mine out to play, his hands tugged down on me to urge me into moving.

Slowly, I began grinding my hips, but a sharp cry escaped me the second the friction centered itself at the top of my sex, and that blast of pleasure had me seeking more.

God, how could I have forgotten that it wasn’t always about pain and misery?

There was this.

Joy and need and craving and desire.

There was Conor.

He encompassed it all.

He growled into my mouth as his own pleasure made itself known. I knew it was good because he started to rock back into me until we were humping on the couch like teenagers.

“Can I?” he rumbled against my lips, nipping me there, plucking the tender flesh.

Blindly, I nodded, even though I didn’t know what his next move was going to be, and in response, his hands slid up my sides, tracing the curves of my breasts before one planted between my shoulders and he used that to keep us together as he twisted us over.

Tension hit me for a split second before I was crying out as the new position let him grind harder into me, the thick notches of our denim flies adding an extra pressure that had me ripping my mouth from his to sob at the sheer fucking ecstasy that tore through me.

Even as I cried out, he didn’t stop moving. His hips continued rocking as he ducked down, lips finding my throat as he sucked along my jawline, testing the skin’s resilience as he nipped there, biting and suckling, sending pinpricks of sensation tumbling along my nerve endings.

Head rocking from side to side, I dropped my hands to his ass and gave as much as I got before I started keening out my pleasure, stunned by the intensity, mind blown by the power of the sensations he triggered in my core.

When his lips returned to mine, he consumed me in a fire that was perfumed with the scent of oranges and cinnamon.

I could feel it—waiting for me in the wings.

There.

Right there.

God, so close.

But, not close enough.

I moaned against his mouth as I squirmed harder, trying to find something that had always been so easy before, something that I’d taken for granted in the past.

My heart started pounding, my skin felt flushed, and the specter of ecstasy was excruciating.

My body began to ache both from exertion and need. It was there. So close. Yet so far. His fingers dug into me, encouraging me, guiding me, and all along, he kissed me as if there were no tomorrow.

Just as I feared it wasn’t going to happen, it bombarded me when he did this thing with his hips, moving them in a circle that hit right.

When I screamed out my orgasm, ecstasy shooting through my extremities, I felt his movements turn frantic until he choked out a groan that merely augmented my enjoyment.

His rocking switched from smooth to jerky, and then that groan turned guttural, the vibrations making my lips tingle as he continued to kiss me, ravishing my mouth as he took me further than some guys had when I was fully naked and being fucked.

And even as we came down from that, he continued kissing me.

Softer, this time. Not as hungry. But still needy. His mouth clung to mine and mine to his. We ate from each other, finding warmth and comfort and, God help me, love in the eternal tangle of our tongue, teeth, and lips.

When he started to pull back, I gripped his shoulders and held him to me, my legs slipping around him to clutch at him tighter.

His soft, contented chuckle had my eyes popping open, but I didn’t chide him for laughing at my expense. Just watched those pupils of his return to normal as he turned us over so we were lying much as we’d done earlier—me curled into him like I’d known him for decades, as if I’d trusted him since the beginning of time itself.

I felt good. Better than I had in… years?

The thought made me realize it had been that long since another had granted me release, and when I did it on my own, it was like a sneeze in comparison to the Niagara Falls effect Conor had just had on my weary body.

“Remember when you asked me if I believed in kismet?”

The question was unexpected, and still faintly dazed by the aftermath of his ministrations, it took me longer than it should to figure out what he was talking about.

“Vaguely,” I settled on, lying because I didn’t remember at all, face burrowing into his side so he wouldn’t know I was out for the count.

He pressed a kiss to my temple. “That just proved it’s real.”