But worse than that, he hated knowing he'd gone and done what he wasn't supposed to do.
He'd found a fucking woman that evidently, he couldn't do without, and now the guilt from that was going to eat him alive.
****
Around midnight, Connor gave up, if only for the night, and let himself inside Jessica's apartment.
A light was shining from her bathroom door, and she was asleep in the middle of the bed, the covers a tangled mess around her where it looked liked she'd had a major struggle with them.
He left the light on, but closed the door until there was only a small wedge of light spilling into the bedroom. Shucking out of his clothes as fast as he could, he crawled into the bed as carefully as possible and took her into his arms. He moved slowly; it was his intention to wake her, but he didn't want to scare her out of her deep sleep.
She let out soft sigh and he nuzzled her neck above her collarbone. Shit, there was that scent again. His cock swelled immediately and as she began rousing from sleep, he slipped her panties down her legs and pressed his palm against the place he'd been aching for all fucking day and night.
Chapter Eight
At first, Jessica thought she was dreaming. She thought she was having a sweet, sweet dream. Connor was there with her; he'd finally gotten to the apartment. He hadn't had an accident, nothing bad had happened to him. He touched her between her legs, and she opened for him without hesitation, wrapping her arms around his neck and sighing in contentment.
But then the dream turned dark, and from nowhere at all, a bad feeling crept through her veins and landed in a cold knot in her stomach. The dream downgraded from there, moving swiftly into the realms of a full-blown nightmare.
Someone else was in the bed with them. Another woman. Another woman was in their bed and it was sending panic and fear down her spine like a river of ice water. Her confused mind, somewhere halfway between sleep and consciousness, tried to understand what was happening. Hadn't Connor told her that he wouldn't sleep with anyone else? She'd thought he had. She thought that's what he meant when he'd said she didn't need to worry about not using condoms. What else could it have meant? She was on birth control, at his instigation.
But now she was having a nightmare because another woman was in bed with them. Surely not. He'd promised she wouldn't have to do a threesome.
With that thought, Jessica's eyes flew open and she came fully awake, as her circumstances and their agreement came rushing back to her in a stream of guilt and pain.
But at least he was here. And it had been just a bad dream. Nothing more. There certainly wasn't another woman in bed with them. Thank God. He was okay, he hadn't been in an accident or anything. He was holding her gently in his arms, and he was kissing her softly, running his hand up and down her thigh.
She was just about to fall into his kiss when her brain became alert, and her faculties began working fully. She took a deep breath, a haze of pain and agony coming over her as she realized what it was that had made her think of another woman. Before he could make a move to stop her, she slipped away from him, slid off the bed, ran to the bathroom, and locked the door behind her.
Her stomach heaved, and in seconds, she was bent over and losing everything in her stomach to the toilet. Almost immediately, Connor began pounding at the door.
"Jessica! Open the door!"
She sat back on her haunches on the other side of the door and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand as she flushed the toilet. "Go away."
"I can't go away, you're sick."
She couldn't control it, rage colored her tone. "I'm not sick. You're the sick one."
There was silence for an abbreviated second. "You're mad at me? What the hell did I do?"
"Go the fuck away, Connor!"
His hand began a steady knock on the door. Not loud. Not enough to bleed through the walls of the apartment and wake the neighbors. But it was steady and relentless, and she knew he wasn't going to give up.
All she had on was the t-shirt she usually slept in. He'd already taken her panties away from her. She didn't keep any clothes in the bathroom, and for once in her life, she was mad at herself for being such a clean freak. She couldn't have one damn pair of shorts lying around on the floor?
Taking a moment to brush her teeth as he continued the knocking, she finished up by wrapping a towel around her hips and walking out of the door. Amazingly, he let her pass, and she didn't look at him as she pulled a clean pair of panties and shorts out of the chest of drawers. She knew he'd never let her go back in the bathroom now, so she turned her back to him and did her best to slip her clothes on underneath the towel.
Within seconds she was dressed again, and she walked to the living room, and flipped on all the lights.
Her brain was still in a state of shocked confusion. For whatever reason, she really didn't think he'd go out and get laid by someone else. She really hadn't thought he would. And knowing that she'd been worried about him, worried he'd gotten hurt when all he'd really been doing was drinking and getting laid . . . she felt like an idiot on top of the annihilating pain she was experiencing.
Purely for something to do, Jessica walked over to the French doors and looked out at the swimming pool beyond her courtyard. There were a few people milling about in the late night, she recognized Eric and Travis. Several other people were sitting around the patio tables, laughing softly and having fun. Just like students on summer break. Why couldn't that be her? Why couldn't she be one of them with nothing more pressing than a few short hours spent with friends?
She continued to stand and look through the glass doors. She didn't want to sit on the couch where Connor could
tower over her and invade her space. Maybe standing here wasn't all that great an alternative, but it was the only one she had.
Connor followed her to the French doors and stood behind her, his breath hot on the top of her hair as he sank his hands into her shoulders, holding her in a punishing grip. "I'm sick? Where in the hell did that come from?"
She shrugged her shoulders and refused to answer as her anger grew stronger with the scent that clung to his body.
He swung her around to face him, impatience etched on his features. "You're going to answer me."
Her shoulders stiffened, but she attempted to keep any emotion from her voice. It was time to hide her pain behind indifference. "No big deal, but you smell like a whorehouse."
She didn't look directly at him, so she couldn't see the confusion that held him for a couple of seconds, but it became plain when he released her and stepped back from her that he'd made the connection and understood. In her mind, the only reason he would have stepped away from her was because she was correct, he did smell like some slut's perfume, and he was trying to take the evidence of it a few steps away from her.
Jessica turned away from him and began walking toward the kitchen in jerky movements. "Get out, Connor. Get out of my house," she said dejectedly. "You told me you wouldn't sleep with anyone else. And you didn't even bother to wash off her scent before coming h-here." Jessica was horrified when her voice cracked.
He didn't answer her for a long time and she leaned against the kitchen counter, pain cutting into her so deeply that she needed the support to keep her from clutching her stomach and sinking to the floor in a miserable heap.
He walked around the corner and came to the edge of the kitchen linoleum. "I didn't sleep with anyone else."
"No? You smell like you did." Jessica glared daggers at him.
"You're right. I guess I do have an . . . odor. I'll go grab a quick shower and then we'll talk."
"We don't have anything to talk about." She stood rigidly and answered him in short, succinct syllables, not believing his claim of innocence for even a moment.