IRL: In Real Life (After Oscar, #1)(83)

I ran my fingers into his hair and held on. My other arm slid around his waist to pull him in tighter. His cock pressed under my balls, and I grumbled low in my throat.

“Please, Conor,” I breathed into his skin. “Please.”





31





Conor





Honestly, his words didn’t even matter. I could see the truth in his eyes, hear the commitment in his voice, taste the apology on his lips, and feel the affection in his touch. It was all I needed.

Even though I was terrified, I finally released the words I’d kept pinned inside.

“I love you.”

I fought the urge to immediately apologize. It was fast—I knew it was fast. And we still barely knew each other. But I also knew my heart. And my heart belonged to Wells whether he wanted it or not.

“Say it again,” he growled low. “Please.” We were both talking so softly, I was almost surprised we could hear each other. It was so new, so fragile, we were both afraid of fucking it up.

I brushed my lips across his and smiled when his body shuddered. “I love you. Trace.”

“Baby,” Wells whimpered into my mouth. “I love you so much.” He crushed his lips to mine and held me tightly to his body. I felt the hard press of his bulge against my lower belly and ground mine into his upper thigh. The resulting groan from him set my skin on fire, and I wanted more more more.

A bubble of happiness turned into a laugh in my throat. “Say it again,” I teased.

He stepped forward, crowding close against me and forcing me to step back until my ass hit the side of the bed. He kept pressing, pushing me onto the bed and climbing on top of me. He thrust a thick thigh between mine, nudging my legs apart. His hard cock pushed against my own, making me suck in a breath. It felt amazing.

“Naughty boy,” he rumbled. His grin turned wicked and promising. With the tip of his tongue, he trailed a line down my throat and along the collar of my shirt. “What should I do with a naughty boy?” His eyes were deep pools of desire and dominance.

“Anything you want,” I croaked. “As long as it includes your dick in my mouth or ass.”

With a gruff grunt of approval, his mouth sucked a mark into my neck while his hands shoved under my shirt in search of my nipples. The man had magic hands. And a magic mouth. And, if I recalled correctly, which I did, a magic dick.

In the haze of desire that clouded my brain, a thought rose to the surface. As much as I wanted him to fuck me, as much as I’d forgiven him, we still hadn’t resolved anything. Yes he might be willing to give a relationship a try, but he still lived in New York. He was still married to his job.

This was all still temporary. And I wasn’t sure I could handle that.

I wasn’t sure I could take him walking out the door to fly home to New York.

“Stay,” I blurted, suddenly panicked. “I don’t want you to leave.”

He pulled back, his eyes dark as they searched mine. “I’m not leaving.”

I frowned, unsure if maybe I’d lost enough blood flow to my brain to confuse things. “But New York. Your flight…”

The look on his face was downright adoring. It flooded me with warmth. “Con, I’m not leaving you.” He ran a hand through my hair, cupping the back of my head. “I was never leaving you. We’ll work the rest of the show together and fly back to Asheville when it’s over.”

I pushed him off me and sat up. “Wait. What?”

Wells pushed up next to me, the skin between his eyebrows furrowing. “Unless you don’t want—”

I didn’t even let him finish that ridiculous sentence. “Of course I want! But your job, you have to…”

His frown was replaced by his easy smile again. “As it turns out, my company is transferring me to a small town in the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina.”

My stomach swooped with nerves and excitement. But it seemed too good to be true. Too perfect. “What do you mean?”

His eyes twinkled. “The CEO decided I needed a more balanced lifestyle. He thought the mountains would be good for me.” He reached for me, his hand closing around mine. “The people too.”

I shook my head. “But… wait, really?”

He laughed. “Yes. In fact, studies show that almost 100 percent of humans in love prefer living in the same city and state as their partner. That’s true. You can look it up.”

As he spoke, his hand ran up my arm, leaving a trail of chill bumps in its wake. It was like he couldn’t keep himself from touching me, which was really very fine with me.

Still, I needed to make sure I understood. He spoke so casually, like he was discussing what he might like for dinner, not where he might live. “But what about Deb? What about Win? What about your management team?”

“I have an incredible team, and Deb pretty much runs the place anyway.” He lifted a shoulder. “If something important comes up, I’ll fly up there. I can stay in a hotel or, if you prefer, we can keep my apartment to use for trips to the city.”

I thought about just how many zeros were in the price of his apartment. For him to offer to keep it for random visits reminded me just how filthy rich he was. The thought of all that money suddenly made me nervous.

“I don’t want your money,” I began. “I don’t ever want you to think—”