Whatever Reilly Wants Page 10

  When she lifted both arms high and did a spin to coincide with the end of the song, she spotted him. Stopping dead, she squeaked out a half-choked-off scream and slapped one hand to her chest.

  “Connor!” She took a deep, steadying breath, then blew it out in an exasperated rush. Reaching across the workbench, she hit the volume button on the radio and cranked it down to background level. “Geez, you scared me half to death. Do you have to be all stealthy?”

  Stealthy? Hell, he was surprised she hadn’t heard his heart pounding over the blast of the radio. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to surprise you.”

  “Next time say something.”

  “Like?”

  “Like, hello?” Still agitated, she dropped the wrench onto the work surface, then rubbed her palms together. “How tough is that?”

  Right now, he thought, pretty damn hard. Hard to talk at all past the knot of need lodged in his throat. But he forced a smile and said, “Fine. Hello, Emma.”

  She smiled, tipped her head to one side and studied him. “Something wrong?”

  Hell, yes. He’d been thinking all day about getting his best friend naked again. That was wrong in so many ways.

  But all he said was, “No.”

  “Didn’t think I’d be seeing you today.”

  She wiped her hands on a clean rag, then tossed it onto the bench behind her. From the radio came a soft rush of guitars and drums, pulsing out around them.

  “Yeah, me, neither.”

  She shoved her hands into the pockets of the coveralls. “So why are you here?”

  Good question.

  “Because we said we’d stay friends, Em. Because if I stay away from you because of last night, we’d lose that.”

  “True.”

  “And,” he admitted, “I wanted to prove to myself that I could come here—see you—and not want to take you to bed again.”

  She frowned at him and he could have sworn the temperature in the garage dropped a few degrees. “Gee, that just makes me feel all warm and fuzzy.”

  “That probably came out wrong,” he muttered.

  “You think?”

  “Damn it, Emma.” He started across the garage toward her. He closed the distance between them with four long strides that took him around the front end of the sleek little convertible waiting to be serviced. When he was right on top of her, he stared down into her eyes. “This is new territory for me, ya know? I generally don’t spend a lot of time thinking about getting my friends naked.”

  She grinned, and he felt the power of that smile reach in and grab his throat.

  “Good to know.”

  “The point is,” he said, letting his gaze slide across her features, from her tiny, straight nose to the curve of her mouth and back up to the depths of her eyes. He inhaled and blew the air out again in a rush. “The point is, I am thinking about getting you naked. And I’m thinking about it way too much.”

  She shivered and he fisted his hands at his sides to keep from reaching for her. If he touched her now, that would be it. No going back, no reining in, no turning away.

  “So stop,” she said, lifting her chin.

  “Easier said than done.”

  “Yeah,” she said on a sigh, “I know.”

  The tight, cold fist around his lungs eased back a little. “You, too?”

  “Only every other minute or so.” She backed up from him, as if just talking about this was getting a little too difficult. “But it’ll pass. Right?”

  “Shown no signs so far.” He kept pace with her, taking one step forward for each of her backward steps.

  “Only been a day.”

  “A whole day,” he said.

  “Right.” She glanced around the shop as if looking for the nearest exit, then caught herself and stopped at the front end of the red sports car. “Twenty-four whole hours.”

  He nodded and moved in closer. “Thousands of minutes.”

  “Uh-huh.” She licked her lips and stared up at him. “We’re gonna do it again, aren’t we?”

  “Oh, yeah.” He wanted her with everything in him. He’d never known such all-consuming hunger before, and a part of him wondered if it would always be this way. Was there no going back to the way things had been between him and Emma? Did he really want to go back?

  Hell, no.

  But at the same time Connor was forced to admit that if they couldn’t go back, they’d have to go forward. There was no standing still.

  Though maybe there could be. Just for tonight. Tomorrow was soon enough to think about the repercussions. Tonight all he wanted to do was recapture those hours he’d had with her the night before. Wanted to lose himself in the taste of her, surround himself with her heat and watch as her eyes glazed over with pleasure.

  Everything else could just wait.

  He bent, grabbed her up and kissed her, long and hard and deep. His tongue swept into her warmth and claimed another piece of her soul. Her breath mingled with his. Her tongue teased his. Her heartbeat shuddered in time with his own and when she arched into him, Connor’s mind emptied of everything but the raging need pounding inside him.

  Desperate to touch her, to have her, he reached for the zipper at the front of her coveralls and whispered, “I’ve gotta know what you’re wearing under this thing.”

  Her eyes went wide. She grabbed his hands and held them still.

  “What?” He met her gaze and saw embarrassment dart across the surface of her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” she hedged, and lowered her gaze, still keeping a tight grip on his hands. “It’s just…”

  “Tell me.”

  She took a deep breath and forced herself to look up at him. “Fine. When I shut the garage bay doors, it was really hot in here and—well, I was all alone and—you know,” she pointed out, “the shop was closed…”

  “Will you just spit it out?”

  Emma let go of his hands and huffed out a breath. “Fine. It’s hot in here, so…”

  “So?” Impatience clawed at him.

  “So, I’m not wearing anything under it.”

  Connor’s blood rushed through his veins. His body went hard and tight and eager. His breath staggered in his lungs. Looking down into her flushed face, he smiled and took hold of the zipper again. Giving it a tug, he stared at her lusciously delectable, completely naked body beneath those ugly gray coveralls and smiled as he whispered, “It’s Christmas.”

  Emma laughed, but the sound ended abruptly as his hands covered her breasts. Thumbs and forefingers squeezed, tweaked and pulled at her nipples. She gasped and felt the drawing sensation right down to the soles of her feet.

  From the corners of the room, fans pushed hot air at them, and still Emma felt as though she couldn’t catch her breath. His hands. She’d been daydreaming about his hands all day and now suddenly, they were here, on her, driving her up that wild, slippery slope that led to an amazing reward.

  “Gotta have you, Em,” he murmured thickly as he leaned over her, pushing her back, back, until she lay atop the hood of the red convertible.

  “Need you, Connor. Right now. Oh, please,” she whispered as his mouth closed over one of her nipples, “right now.”

  His right hand dipped down her body, sliding across her abdomen, past the nest of tight curls at her center until he touched the heart of her. Light, skimming strokes pushed her higher, faster, than she’d ever been before. And still it wasn’t enough.

  “Now, Connor,” she begged and even hearing the pleading in her own voice couldn’t stop her from begging again. “I want you inside me. Now.”

  “Right now, baby.” He lifted his head, pulled his hand free of her heat and reached for the shoulders of her coveralls. In one slick move, he’d scooped the fabric off her shoulders, down the length of her body and off. Then he was laying her back against the hood of the car and all she could think was, the metal still felt cool against her skin. Despite the hot air and the heat he created within her, the metal was cool and slick benea
th her body.

  Emma opened her eyes and watched him as he quickly undid his jeans and stepped out of them. Pulling his shirt off, he came to her, strong, muscular, tanned and ready. Emma’s hands itched to touch him, to scrape her fingernails down his back and over the curve of his behind. She wanted to feel him atop her. Feel him fill her until all the lonely, empty spaces inside were quiet.

  She licked her lips as if awaiting a treat, and he caught the motion and gave her a slow smile. Grabbing a condom from his wallet, he tore the paper open, smoothed the fragile rubber over himself and came to her. She lifted her legs, parting them wide in welcome and held her breath as he entered her on a sigh.

  The radio played, a fast, pulsing tune that gave them the rhythm they both needed. Fast, hard, hungry. Again and again, they parted and rejoined as he plunged within her and each time was harder, stronger, more relentless than the last.

  And as the end crashed down around them, Connor looked down into her eyes, and Emma lost herself in his dark-blue gaze. She cried out his name as the heat swallowed them and bound them even more tightly together.

  Ten

  “O kay,” Emma said as soon as she was able to talk without her voice quavering, “this was a mistake.”

  “Hard to look at it like that when you’re in my position,” Connor quipped and grinned down at her.

  That grin was such a potent weapon. And with his body still pressed to hers, still intimately invading hers, she could hardly argue the point. However, one of them had to make a stand—even if she was lying down when she did it.

  “Get up, Connor.”

  “What’s your hurry?” He nibbled at her throat, then deliberately ran his tongue across her skin.

  Bubbles of fresh anticipation frothed to life inside her. She could almost hear her blood boiling. Every inch of her body felt alert, awake, alive—all because of him. How had they managed to know each other for two years and never discover the chemistry that lay sizzling between them? And how could they get back to where they’d been, now that they had discovered it?

  Emma’s stomach jittered at the thought that maybe they wouldn’t be able to go back. Maybe by finding something special, they’d lost something equally important. She closed her eyes and bit back a groan. Then, gritting her teeth, she said, “I mean it, Connor,” and slapped one hand against his back for emphasis. “Get up.”

  “Bossy little thing, aren’t you?” he asked, lifting his head to look down at her again. A self-satisfied half smile curved his mouth, and it was all she could do to keep from reaching up and defining that curve with her fingertips.

  “How come I never noticed that about you before?”

  “There are a lot of things you didn’t notice.”

  “Yeah,” he wiggled his eyebrows and leered at her. “But I’m catching on quick.”

  He rocked his hips against her, and her bones melted—along with what little resolve she’d been able to muster. Before she succumbed completely, though, she ordered, “Connor…”

  “I’m moving, I’m moving.”

  He did. Slowly, tantalizingly. As if he were tormenting her for ending this little…session.

  Emma stifled a groan and bit down on her bottom lip to keep from asking him to stay. To make love to her again. Oh, she had to be out of her mind. Here she had a gorgeous, talented lover at her disposal and she was telling him thanks but no thanks?

  Her brain screamed at her to be rational, and her body was shouting just as loudly to stop thinking and just feel. She wasn’t sure which of them was the stronger at the moment, so as soon as she could, Emma slid off the hood of the car and quickly grabbed up her coveralls. With clothing, might come clear thinking. Heaven knew it wasn’t there when she was naked.

  The fans blew a constant stream of heated air against her sweat-dampened skin, and chills rippled along her spine. She shivered and kept moving.

  Stepping into her clothes again, Emma kept her back to Connor until she was dressed, with the zipper pulled up to her throat. Stupid, since he’d already seen her naked, but hey, she needed all the armor she could get at the moment. Shoving the oversize sleeves up to her elbows, she took a deep breath, ignored the hum still reverberating throughout her body and turned around to face him.

  He had his jeans on, but he was still bare-chested, and a more tempting sight Emma couldn’t imagine. Her mouth watered and she felt her resistance melting like ice in a warm drink. Oh, she’d really opened up a huge can of worms by starting all this. And if she could have figured out how to do it, she would have kicked her own behind.

  They’d been happy. Fine. Good friends. Then she’d let herself get all huffy and offended, and now see where they’d landed. Up a creek without even a boat—let alone a paddle. And she had absolutely no idea how to undo it.

  Or even if she wanted to.

  And that one thought worried her.

  Because she was slipping.

  She could feel it.

  Her heart ached, just looking at him. If the situation were different—if she were different, she might have allowed herself a little dreaming. Might have let what she already felt for him blossom. Might have indulged in the hopes and fantasies that she’d once believed in.

  But fantasies were fragile, and dreams were tricks your mind played on you. She knew that. She’d learned her lesson the hard way. So she ached at the knowledge that nothing would ever be the same between Connor and her again.

  Their easy friendship was gone, burned in a fire she hadn’t expected to find.

  “Whatever you’re thinking,” he said softly, “it looks serious.”

  “What?”

  “Should I be worried?” He yanked his dark-red T-shirt over his head and shoved his arms through the sleeves.

  “One of us should be,” she murmured. Then louder she said, “We can’t keep doing this.”

  He grinned again. “Give me five minutes, I think I could change your mind.”

  No doubt he could. But that wasn’t the point. “Connor, I’m trying to do the right thing, here.”

  “Well, cut it out.” Scowling, he reached over and flipped off the radio. With the music suddenly cut off, the whir of the fans was the only sound as they faced each other.

  Emma could have sworn she could actually see electricity flashing back and forth between them. Heaven knew she felt the heat. But she closed her heart to it. Sighing, she said, “Last night was a bump in the road.”

  “More than one,” he commented wryly.

  She ignored it. “But tonight just proves that this is getting out of hand.”

  Scowling, he said, “Okay, I admit, things got a little out of hand tonight—”

  “Yeah, just a little.”

  He shook his head and folded his arms over his chest. He braced his long legs in a wide apart, battle stance and Emma wondered idly who he was preparing to fight? Her? Or himself?

  “You should know this isn’t why I came here tonight.”

  Of course she knew that. After all, no one would plan to have sex on the hood of a car. She sighed again. “I know, it’s just—”

  “I came to talk since I couldn’t find you at home,” he continued, cutting her off neatly. “And, hey—” he broke off and glared down at her “—by the way, lock the damn door when you’re here alone, Emma.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “The door to the shop. It was unlocked. For God’s sake, anybody could have come in.”

  “Anybody did,” she said, stiffening in self-defense.

  “Yeah, but you know me.”

  “I used to think so.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” he demanded.

  Temper flared into life inside her, and Emma clung to it desperately. Anger was easier to deal with than whatever it was she was feeling for Connor at the moment. “It means that whether or not I lock my doors is up to me.”

  “Who the hell said it wasn’t?” He unfolded his arms and threw his hands high as if trying to catch the threads of the argument th
at were quickly spiraling out of his control.

  “You did,” she snapped, folding her own arms across her chest and glaring back at him. This was comfort. This was safety. An argument with Connor she could handle. Tenderness from him left her wary and unsure of herself. “I’m perfectly safe here.”

  He frowned at her, his dark-blue eyes getting nearly frosty. “Probably,” he admitted. “But it’s stupid to take chances, Emma.”

  “I’m not stupid, and I don’t need you to tell me what to do.”

  He gaped at her. “I didn’t say you were stupid.”

  “You did, too, just a minute ago.”

  “I said it was stupid not to lock the door.”

  “And since I didn’t, I’m stupid.”

  “What the hell’s going on with you, Emma?” His voice growled out with the strength and ferocity of a grizzly bear coming out of winter hibernation, looking for a meal.

  She didn’t know. God help her, she just didn’t know. Thoughts, emotions, feelings, splintered inside her and the slippery shards were too fragile…too many to identify. All she knew for sure was that she needed to be alone. She needed to think. Desperately she fought to control the rising sense of panic clawing at her insides. “I don’t like being ordered around.”

  He sucked in a huge gulp of air, swallowed it and paused, as if silently counting to ten. Or twenty. Emma could have told him it wouldn’t help. She’d already tried it.

  Finally he spoke again, keeping his voice low and even. “I’m not telling you what to do. I’m just saying I was worried when I saw you were vulnerable and—”

  Oh, she was plenty vulnerable. But not in the way he meant. Everything inside her was a churning, dazzling swirl of need and fury. She wanted him and couldn’t have him. Needed him and didn’t want to. Loved him and—

  Oh, God.

  She staggered back a step.

  Felt the blood drain from her head until the room tilted ominously.

  She loved Connor Reilly.

  Air rushed in and out of her lungs in short, sharp gasps. The edges of her vision sparkled with white and blue dots, and she wondered absently if this is what an out-of-body experience felt like. For a second or two she worried that she might faint. Then the thought of waking up and having to explain to Connor just what had prompted the faint quickly slapped her back into shape.