Chapter 29

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Connor was fucked in multiple senses of the word. First, literally. Holly was soft and curvy, and she knew how to lean into her pleasure in a way that made him desperate to spend the next few weeks doing nothing but hearing her hoarse cry while she came around him. Maybe a few months. Or a lifetime.

He was already getting hard again as he thought about how it had felt to have her legs wrapped around his waist. Her head was nestled into his chest as he stroked down her spine, cupped her butt, and then stroked upward again. It had been a while since Connor had slept with anyone, but that alone couldn’t account for how good it had felt to join with his Wicked. She’d been enchanting as she’d ridden him in the moonlight, her breasts pushed forward and her hair cascading down her back, her eyes closed in utter pleasure.

“You’re getting hard again,” she murmured, her palm drifting over his erection.

“Are you cold?”

“No.”

“Good.” He rolled on top of her, kissing down her body and nuzzling her belly before dipping lower, his head disappearing beneath the quilt. He opened her to him, tasting her and coating his fingers with her wetness as he slowly began to pleasure her again. She writhed against his mouth with a hypnotic rhythm that made him heavy and swollen with desire.

The second way he was fucked, he thought as her hands wove into his hair, was that he adored absolutely everything about this woman. He loved her spirit, her fierceness, and her incredible strength in holding herself together against what she’d been cursed with.

Holly’s thighs squeezed around his head, and he thought he might come just from hearing her gasp and moan.

The flat of Connor’s tongue was pressed against her when his eyes flew open with a shockingly unwelcome thought. Wait, did he love her? Was Charlotte right? Had he fallen in love with Holly Celeste without even knowing it?

Holly’s hips bucked against his still mouth, using his tongue for her own pleasure, and he rumbled with approval. He slid another finger inside her and suspected there were a lot of fun things he and Holly could try together. She was a little hedonist at heart, and her satisfaction only multiplied his.

Connor drove her upward, losing control of his thoughts as he sank into the feeling of pleasuring her, and when she shattered, he rolled on another condom and pushed inside her, stroking hard and fast and pushing her over the edge a second time. That time she screamed, giving him a savage sense of male satisfaction. Connor wasn’t usually a possessive lover, but just the thought of any other man pleasuring those noises out of her made him go cold with jealousy.

“Are you sore?” he asked before taking her breast into his mouth. “We can stop.”

“Never stop,” she breathed, lazily looping her arms around his neck, her hazel and green-rimmed eyes glazed.

Connor kept eye contact with her as he gentled his thrusts. He felt primal and possessive, tender and blessed. He felt … completed.

That didn’t make any sense, he thought vaguely as they moved together. If she completed him, then that would mean they were meant for each other. It would mean that when separated they were two parts of the same puzzle, their picture incomplete.

It would mean he loved her.

That was crazy. He didn’t love Holly.

She came again, and he watched the joy spread across her face before he followed.

An hour later, Connor reluctantly helped Holly dress.

“You’re spending a lot of time back there,” she said, looking over her shoulder. He was kneeling behind her, his jeans unzipped, as he positioned her panties on her ass.

“Skyclad,” he said. “Witches call being in the nude ‘skyclad.’”

“I’m not a Witch.”

“Yeah, but I’m thinking there are some practices you could adopt, like being skyclad all the time.”

Holly laughed as she yanked her shirt over her head, covering her beautiful back. She pulled her hair out of the neck hole, and it fell in dark contrast over the light-colored tank top. “I do like the way you worship my body.”

Connor gave her ass a smack and stood to pull on his own shirt while she tugged on her jeans. “You’re aware that for the rest of the time we’re filming here, I’m not going to be able to walk into this orchard without thinking of you riding me with the moon over your head.”

Holly ducked her chin, and if he had to bet on it, he’d say she was blushing. “Yeah, well, you don’t have to live here,” she muttered.

Connor frowned as she bent to tie her boots. What did she mean by that? He was about to ask, but before he could, she smiled brightly up at him and said, “Does this mean we’re fuck buddies?”

He scowled. “No, we are not ‘fuck buddies.’ A fuck buddy is someone you call at three AM and don’t care if you see again.”

“Right, and since this is my farm, you have to see me.”

“Are you being deliberately obtuse?”

She finished tying her boots and stood. “I’m trying to keep things light, Connor. You’re leaving, remember? You’re not boyfriend material—you said so yourself.”

Her words did nothing to diminish his suddenly foul mood as he shook out the quilt and stuffed it under his arm. “I don’t have to see you every day. I want to see you.”

“Aw, that’s sweet.” She patted him gently on the cheek, which only made him clench his teeth together.

They started toward the trailer and the house, both of which stood dark and still in the distance. He was thinking over their exchange when a text came through. Erikson had landed in Portland and was getting a hotel for the remainder of the night before driving up early the next morning.

Connor loved his brother more than anyone else on the planet. They were close in the way only two people with shared trauma could be. As children they’d defended each other to their parents, and they’d stood up to each other’s bullies at school. Now that they were adults, they spent a lot of time apart, especially as their show had grown and they needed to split their time between locations, but they texted daily and called at least once a week. Connor had vaguely missed Erikson the way he always did when his brother wasn’t around … but for the first time in his life he wasn’t excited to see him.

He pondered why that was as he walked over the grass, the quilt under one arm and his hand on Holly’s lower back. Maybe it was that he was perfectly happy with how things were going with Holly and he didn’t want Erikson barging in and messing it up.

Maybe it was that he knew Holly’s secret, and he wouldn’t be sharing it with his brother or on national television.

It most definitely was not that Charlotte and Erikson were right and he was falling for her.

“My brother is coming tomorrow,” he said after a few minutes of silence. Holly looked up at him with a question in her eyes. “He … um …” Connor cleared his throat. “He knows that I suspect your family of being supernatural.”

Holly rubbed her finger over her lip as she thought. “Does he know we’re Wickeds?”

Connor shook his head. “No.”

“Are you going to tell him?”

Connor stopped and tugged her close. He dropped a light kiss on her mouth and said, “That’s not up to me.”

She seemed surprised. “Are you saying you wouldn’t tell him if I didn’t want you to? I thought you two were practically twins.”

Connor laughed as they began walking again. “We’re really close—but it’s not my secret to share, Holly. Not with the world, and not with my brother.”

“Shit.”

“What?” They were almost to her house now, and he climbed the porch steps after her, pleased when the stairs remained solid under their feet.

“I’m a sucker for honorable men.”

Connor pressed her to the door with his body and gave her a long, lingering kiss that ignited his blood again. Damn, how could he still want her after having her multiple times in the orchard? If he wasn’t careful, he could see his desire for her developing into an addiction. “Funny, I’m a sucker for women with pet hedgehogs.”

Holly breathed him in and reached for the doorknob.

He didn’t want to see her go. “Come sleep in the trailer with me.”

“I’m not sure I’m ready for everyone to know about us. I’m not sure I ever want them to know.”

“Kind of late for that, isn’t it? Both your sisters have walked in on us kissing, and Charlotte caught me with painted handprints on my body and told my brother.”

Holly groaned. “Okay, so everyone knows. I’ll think about it.”

“No pressure. We probably wouldn’t get much sleep if you did stay over.” When had he ever wanted a woman to sleep over? His ex-girlfriends obviously had before, but he couldn’t recall ever feeling like he didn’t want to part with them. If they’d gone home at the end of the night, he didn’t think he’d have minded.

Holly pushed the door opened and whispered, “See you tomorrow, Ghost Hunter.”

“Tomorrow, Wicked.”