A Bad Boy is Good to Find(47)

“I’ve always lied about my age. I honestly think you are the only person I’ve ever told my real age to.”

“The same as mine,” she murmured.

“Exactly. I’m even born in March, like you.”

“Pisces?”

A smile crossed his lips. “Yup.” He kissed her other cheek “Just like you.”

“But we’re not alike at all,” she whispered, fresh tears welling in her eyes.

“Why not?” He tipped his head back and looked at her, dark eyes narrowed. “Maybe we’re more alike that you think.”

“Because you’ve been through all this…” She waved her hand in the air to compensate for words that wouldn’t come to her.

“Hard times? Lies? Bullshit? Don’t be so sure we’re not alike. You’re going through all that right now.”

“Not like you.”

“Sure it is. The circumstances are different, but the hurt is the same. You’re all alone, making up crazy stories to hustle up some cash. Do you think they really believe you want to marry me?”

“You don’t think they do?”

“I don’t know. I think Raoul does. He’s a true romantic.” His mouth tilted into that familiar crooked smile.

Lizzie squeezed her eyes against the tears but they trickled over her cheeks anyway. Her throat was tight. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m crying, I just can’t seem to—”

“Hey, that’s okay.” He stroked her hair. Leaned in and kissed her cheek in a way that made her skin buzz. “It’s good to let your emotions out. Don’t want to keep them all bottled up inside where they can drive you crazy.”

“How come you don’t?” She swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand.

“Don’t what?” He stroked her shoulder.

“Show emotion? Cry?”

“I don’t know. I guess I just don’t feel that much anymore. Kept everything battened down so long the bolts are rusted. Don’t let that happen to you.”

He cupped her cheek, wiped a tear away, then leaned in to kiss her. “I’m glad of our lie,” he whispered. “Because I like being with you. I like you, Lizzie.”

The next thing she knew, his lips were on hers, hot and forceful, his tongue in her mouth. She shuddered as he gripped her round the waist and pulled her right into him, her belly pressed against his flat stomach.

Hot relief flooded through her as she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tight. She kissed him back even harder as her hands groped into his hair and her breath came in loud gasps. Too much emotion, too much feeling, all with nowhere to go, and it hurt.

Suddenly they were tugging at each others’ underwear and he climbed over her, panting and rolling on a condom he’d rustled up from somewhere. She couldn’t think, couldn’t talk, didn’t know how to do anything but try to press her body against his.

He gave her a rough kiss as he entered her. Something ragged inside her tore a little further, splitting her open and making her cling to him tighter. He pressed against her, grinding, sending shivers of dangerous arousal rippling through her and crashing against the swells of raw emotion. She gripped his neck, gasped and moaned as he increased the tempo, thrusting her deeper and deeper into a frenzy of tortured excitement.

She clawed at his back with her fingertips, wanting him even closer as her teeth grazed his cheekbone and her lips sought his. Oh, Con. Why do things have to be so complicated?

He moved inside her more slowly now, rocking her hot, wet and slow. Their hips rolled together, and she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him so tight, not wanting to ever let go.

I love you.

The words danced on her lips for a split second before she bit them back.

Those days were over.

But as Con showered her face with tender kisses she couldn’t help thinking that they might be at the start of a new day.

A series of hard thrusts and deep tongue kisses pushed her over the edge into an explosive climax. She heard her startled cry followed by Con’s groan as he followed her into a post orgasmic realm of breathless silence.

Afterward they lay there, her fingers in his hair as his head rested between her breasts. His hands, one on either side of her torso, held her as if she might try to wriggle away.

“I’ve missed you, Lizzie,” he said, after a long, peaceful silence.

“Missed me? We’ve been together every minute.”

He looked up, hair dipping to his shiny dark eyes. “I’ve missed being close, being intimate. Affectionate.”

She tousled his hair. “Me too.”

Something inside her pulled sharply. A tug of warning.

“Con, why did you come after me? I mean, if you really never loved me. Why didn’t you write the whole thing off as a deal gone south?”

How could she have been so sure he loved her if all the time he was just acting? No one was that good an actor.

A funny fluttering in her stomach accompanied the thought.

Con hesitated. Licked his lips. He slid sideways off her chest and moved up the bed until his head was level with hers.

He ran his thumb lightly over her lips, then pulled his hand back and shifted up onto his elbow. She heard him inhale.

“My father got my mom started drinking. She didn’t drink at all until she met him. He used to brag about it. How she used to be such a prim and perfect little lady until he…” His expression darkened and he looked away.

When he looked back at her, the fierce expression in his eyes made her flinch. “I’ve always prided myself on being nothing like my father. Anything he’d have done, I’ll do the exact opposite. You’ll not see me gambling, drinking myself under a table, starting fights. Never. I’ve never laid a hand on a woman and never will.”

He combed his fingertips through her hair, gentle. “But I did give you those first sips of champagne.”

Lizzie bristled. She wasn’t the naïve innocent he assumed. “You think I never tried alcohol before? I’ve been dragged along to cocktail parties since I was eight. I probably had my first spiked Shirley Temple before I turned ten. My mother started cocktail hour at four p.m. every day.”

“But you didn’t. You didn’t want to be like her. You were quite happy with a tall cool glass of chocolate milk—” he hesitated, and the corner of his mouth lifted into a smile.

She stiffened, gritted her teeth.

“And I loved that about you. A woman who knows her own mind! You didn’t try and impress me with pomegranate martinis and champagne with gold bits floating in it. I’d never met anyone like you, Lizzie. You far exceeded my wildest expectations.”

Lizzie’s mind raced, trying to process all this information, most specifically the exact usage of the word loved in this context. “Loved” as in “I loved her like no other woman” or as in “I loved her Mary-Jane shoes.” Her graduate-level classes in English Literature had not provided her with adequate interpretive skills.

“But,” he looked sheepish. “You were hard to get close to. Suspicious.” He raised an eyebrow. “Wary as a tiger someone’s just thrown a fresh, thick juicy steak at. Like, where’s the catch?”