She dropped it.

Chapter 33

August

“Stop doing that! We have to go!” Rory said, giggling as she tried to crawl out of his arms and off the bed, but the woman was laughing too hard to be able to put up much of an effort.

“No, we don’t, baby. We can tell your brothers that you’re too sick to go. Then we can spend the first free weekend that we’ve had in two months, in bed doing nothing more than eating, sleeping and making you scream my name,” he said, pulling a very amused Rory back away from the edge of the bed and in his arms.

She let out an indelicate snort at that. “I have never screamed your name!’ she said, lying her hot little ass off.

“Really?” he asked in an offhand tone as he managed to get his right arm beneath her and wrapped it around her, pulling her back against his chest and keeping her there as he used his other hand to tickle her until she was thrashing in his arms and laughing so hard that she could barely choke out his name.

“You bastard!” she gasped, still laughing a minute later when he stopped tickling her.

“Yes, I am,” he said, chuckling as he shifted back just far enough so that Rory could turn over onto her back.

As soon as her back touched the comforter she was reaching for him. With her fingers threaded through his short hair, she pulled him down for one of her greedy little kisses that he loved. Her throaty moan as he slid his tongue against hers had his c**k jerking and his balls aching, but he ignored them because making Rory fall apart in his arms was one of the most pleasurable experiences that he’d ever had with a woman.

He loved touching her, loved the way she trembled against him, the way her breaths became uneven as she struggled to hold off coming for one more minute so that she could enjoy his touch a little while longer. He would never get enough of her, he decided as he skimmed his hand down her flat belly and between her legs, his groan merging with hers when his fingers slicked through her folds and found her dripping wet. Using the tip of his finger, he traced her core once, twice before he slid his finger inside and found her sheath tight. She wasn’t going to last long, but that was okay, because they didn’t have much time.

“Connor,” she moaned softly against his lips as he slid his finger slowly inside her.

When he felt her reach for him, he shook his head, only breaking off the kiss long enough to say, “No, baby, just lie back and enjoy this.”

After a slight hesitation, he felt her melt back into the mattress. She wrapped her good arm around his shoulder, holding him close as he slid a second finger inside her. When she gasped into his mouth he knew that she was on the brink and he wished that he could lay here with her and take his time making her feel good, but they didn’t have much time.

He twisted his hand so that he could caress that little nub that he loved to flick his tongue over and rubbed it with short teasing circles. Rory’s nails dug into his shoulders and her breaths quickened. She pushed down on his fingers and he allowed it, taking the hint that she wanted it harder so he gave it to her. By the time he felt her sheath throb and squeeze around his fingers he was ready to explode. He held off as long as he could, but when she started to scream his name he lost it.

Keeping his fingers inside of her, he broke off the kiss and sat up, sitting back, damn careful not to interrupt her orgasm as he took himself in hand. He watched Rory burst apart, her back arching as she licked her lips hungrily. The grip on his c**k tightening as he stroked himself faster, his eyes never leaving her beautiful face.

When she opened her eyes and looked up at him a shot of pleasure surged through him, tightening his balls and intensifying the pleasure with each stroke. She was so damn beautiful, sweet, feisty, but it was the fact that it was Rory looking up at him that turned him inside out and made his heart skip a beat.

“I love you, Rory,” he said, struggling not to close his eyes as his spine tingled and he felt intense pleasure as his orgasm worked its way to his cock.

Rory didn’t say that she loved him. She never did, but instead her walls clamped down around his fingers as a second, more powerful orgasm tore through her, setting off his own. He forced his eyes to remain open, too greedy to miss this. He watched her scream his name again, enjoying every last second of it as it intensified his own orgasm. It wasn’t as good as being inside of her, but it would have to do until he could manage to get her alone again.

“We have to get going,” Rory said, struggling to catch her breath as she sat up.

Unfortunately, she was right. With a nod and a quick kiss, he climbed off the bed, taking her with him. Together, they walked into the shower, only pausing long enough to enjoy a leisurely kiss. He helped cover her cast with a plastic bag before they climbed into the shower and quickly washed up. He’d just pulled her back into his arms when the banging on the bedroom door started, again.

“We gave you a half an hour! Move your asses!” Sean yelled, making them both groan as he reached for the shower knob and turned off the water.

“Let’s stay here, Rory. I was serious about spending the weekend in bed with you,” he said, knowing that even if they stayed that he wouldn’t be able to spend the entire weekend in bed with her.

Andrew was getting worse and he didn’t know what he should do. There was no one that he could turn to and no one to share this burden with. He’d promised to keep his mouth shut and that’s exactly what he was going to do even as it was slowly killing him inside. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep this up. Every day was like a brand new level of hell. If only Andrew wasn’t so hell bent about being stubborn, but the bastard wouldn’t even listen to him or take a chance for him. That ass**le was dying and he wouldn’t even take a f**king chance. God help him, but Connor hated him for it.

“What’s wrong?” Rory asked softly, reaching up and ran her fingers down his jaw, instantly calming him.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he lied, turning his head and pressed a kiss against the tips of her fingers as they moved down his jaw. He wished he could tell her what was going on, ease some of his own pain, but he couldn’t. He wouldn’t do that to her and he wouldn’t break the asinine promise that he made to Andrew. He owed his friend that much at least.

“If you’re not ready in ten minutes we’re coming in!” Johnny yelled, making Rory roll her eyes and forced him to bite back a groan at the reminder that he promised to spend an entire day with Rory’s brothers and the rest of her extended family.

Oh, joy.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like her cousins, he actually did. He’d only met a dozen of them so far, but all of them were pretty good guys. They were arrogant as hell and some of them liked to call him the “pretty boy”, which he thought was a bit screwed up since he hadn’t met one single Bradford that couldn’t pass for a GQ model. Then again, being called pretty boy was a hell of lot better than being referred to as the cry baby. He hadn’t cried and every time he pointed that out he earned pitying looks and condescending remarks.

Bastards.

The problem was actually Rory’s brothers and father. Since news of their engagement spread like wildfire all over town, her father hadn’t said one single word to him, not one. Not that the man was normally a chatter box, but the way he watched his every move when he didn’t think that Connor was looking was a bit eerie. He just wasn’t sure that he could deal with the glares for a whole day when he barely survived it for five hours fishing every Sunday.

Her brothers were a whole other problem. He really wished that they would cut the shit and kick his ass and get it over with already. Their murderous glares and bullshit warnings about watching his back were getting tiresome. They sent him text warnings at all hours of the day. When they were fishing or didn’t want Rory and their father to hear what they were saying, they whispered their warnings or mouthed their threats. They even went so far as to send him drinks when he was at the bar just so they could write down exactly what they wanted to do to him on a cocktail napkin using stick figure illustrations to explain it better just in case he missed the fact that they were dying to kick his ass.

The only thing that wasn’t clear to him was why they hadn’t kicked his ass. They were obviously dying to kick his ass. He just didn’t know what was stopping them. If he wasn’t so damn worried about Andrew, getting this project finished and trying not to screw this up with Rory, he would probably try and find out, but right now he just didn’t have the time or energy to really care.