Kiss the Sky (Addicted #3)(58)

So much shit to do. Like planning a bachelorette party. I would have hired male strippers—but for a recovering sex addict, that’s not the smartest theme. I think Lily and Lo want to have a joint bachelor and bachelorette party anyway.

As I head out the door and find my Escalade on the curb, my mind reverts back to everything that’s been happening with Connor. His thumb. The shower. Love.

Loren may believe that Connor won’t be there for me at the end of the line, but that night at the screening party made me realize how much I do trust him. How much I do know him. Lo was wrong on so many accounts, and that’s only because Connor has let me see more than a couple sides of his life.

Whether Connor says it or not, he loves me enough to let me in more than halfway. And I know it’s time for me to do the same on a different kind of level.

I pull out my phone and send a quick text to Connor.

Bring wine tonight.

Since Lo is sober, we try to keep alcohol out of sight, so I have a trunk in our bedroom that I’ll store our stash in. I pause to think about my choice of alcohol. Wine? I’m probably going to need something stronger.

And tequila.

I take a breath and wait for the text.

Is there a reason we’ll be drinking tonight? – Connor

Surprise. I reply back.

Can’t wait ;) – Connor





[ 20 ]

CONNOR COBALT



Frederick has spent the past ten minutes giving me the silent treatment. He sits behind his desk and pretends to be interested in The New York Times on his computer. He’s pissed that I’m still taking Adderall. But I can’t function without it.

I finish texting Rose and lean back in the leather chair. Frederick hasn’t looked up yet.

“I’m not paying you to ignore me,” I tell him.

His eyes remain on the computer screen. “You’re right. You’re paying for my counsel, which you are clearly not interested in.” He starts typing on his keyboard, the pounding more aggravating than I’ll let on. He has a squared jaw, tousled brown hair and broad-shoulders—in his thirties, fairly good looking, but he never married. His work is his wife.

I press my fingers to my lips in thought. “And you’re not even the slightest bit interested in what Rose texted me?” I try.

His fingers falter as he types, but he regains fluidity. Frederick enjoys talking with me, whether he’ll admit it to himself or not. I’m his most interesting patient.

“She asked me to bring home wine and tequila.” I don’t say anything else.

I watch the curiosity build in Frederick’s eyes until he lets out a sigh and rolls his chair back, his body angled towards me.

“You’re too easy,” I tell him.

“So you’ve told me.” He pauses. “How far have you been with her?”

I hesitate to reveal this, which surprises even me. I’m usually open about everything with Frederick, but being with Rose makes me want to keep every moment close to our chests, so no one can share what happens but us. It takes me about a minute to finally say, “She sucked my cock.”

Frederick’s brows rise in surprise. “You got her to blow you?”

“Rose had the choice.” I don’t want one of us to lose with sex. We both need to come out successful and fulfilled.

“How kinky?” Frederick asks.

I let out a mock sigh and stare at the ceiling. “We’re not there yet.” I tilt my head. “Give her time, Rick. She’s a virgin.”

“I’m surprised you’re not pushing her harder. For years, you’ve talked about how you want to—”

“I’m going to push her as far as I think she can go without having her run out on me. She’s packed a suitcase before, remember? She stayed in a hotel in the Hamptons for a week just to prove a point. And we weren’t even living together then.”

Frederick laughs. “I remember. You were both fighting about the Theory of Relativity.”

“She loves to disagree with me.” We argue a lot about theories because they’re easily debatable, but we always, somehow, kiss in the end. When she finally returned to Princeton, I spent the day with her in bed, sucking on her neck, gently easing her to go further. She was too scared to do more. But I think, for once, she will now.

“When she went down on you, you didn’t let her use her hands?” he suddenly asks.

“No.” These questions are annoying me more than usual.

“Did she like it?”

“Immensely.”

“You’re very possessive of her,” he states, taking out his notepad.

“How can you tell?”

“You sound irritated.”

Wonderful.

“Did you go down on her afterwards?”

“No.” I shift my jaw, trying to get my words to cooperate and not come out so damn coarse.

“Because you didn’t have time?”

“No,” I almost snap at him. I clear my throat as Frederick scribbles something down.

“Because she wouldn’t let you.”

I stay quiet since he phrased this one as a statement, not a question.

“She’s frightened to let you touch her. The alcohol she wants you to buy will lessen her inhibitions and reservations. If she’s afraid in the first place, maybe she’s not submissive, Connor.”