Finding Home #SYTYCW15 #SpecialEdition

Finding Home Part 9

Chapter Eight

Conner pressed himself into her, mindless with the need that was pouring through him. Andie whimpered again, a soft sound in her throat that made him wonder what noises she would make when he had her clothes off, when he slid into her in one long, satisfying stroke.

He skimmed his hand under the edge of her bra, feeling the smooth weight of her in his hands, rubbing his thumb over the tip of her. She moaned out his name, and Conner had the vague thought that there were far too many clothes between them. He slipped his hands free of her bra and slid them to the edge of her shirt, then tugged. It took him a moment to realize her hands had closed over his. That she was saying his name now in a way meant to get his attention.

"Conner," she said again.

He took in a ragged breath, then held it, using every ounce of will power he had to still his hands, to lift his head away from her neck. He looked down into her eyes, clouded still with desire for him, and had the thought that if he had two more minutes, he could make her forget everything else, forget everything but him and the pleasure he could give her.

"Conner," she said, "I can't do this. Not here, not now. Not like this."

Conner let his head slump forward, rest on her shoulder. He breathed in the scent of her, somehow like cookies baking in the oven, sweet and delicious, and felt his heart squeeze in his chest.

She was right, he knew she was right. Hell, they were in the middle of an old courtroom. Not only that, one whole side was windows. Things couldn't have gone any farther then they had, probably shouldn't have even gone as far as they did. He knew too, that if they got physical, their relationship would go to a whole new level, a level he wasn't sure he was ready to commit too, a level that would make it damn hard to walk out of Port Haven, to take his dream job in Montana.

But he wanted her, wasn't sure he could go on living without having her.

He let his lips slide along the side of her neck, tasting her one more time and felt her shiver with it. He ached for her, ached so badly it was like having the flu. Letting go of her, taking the three steps back, was one of the hardest things he'd ever done.

They stood there, in the pale spill of morning light through the windows, and stared at each other. He knew they couldn't go forward, he knew she knew it too, but damn if either of them could take that step back that would release them from the desire he could all but see shimmering between them.

"Mr. Morgan?" a woman's voice called from somewhere in the building. "Mr. Morgan? The door was open. Are you here?"

Conner swore. "Real estate agent," he said to Andie, then walked over to one of the corners and pretended to be studying something. He took several deep breaths, willing his body to calm.

He saw surprise flash across Andie's face, and then loud laughter spilled out of her. She laughed until she was holding her stomach, until she was doubled over with it.

"You think this is funny, huh?" he asked. He kept his voice rough, but he could only keep his face straight for a second or two before he felt a grin crack across it. "Okay. Maybe it is. Can you go stall her please? Do something?" He could hear the desperation in his voice, and didn't care. The real estate agent sounded like she was only a room away now.

Andie laughed again, a bright clear sound, one he had only heard a handful of times since he'd come home. She stepped over to him, wrapped her arms around him from behind and gave him a fierce hug. "Oh, Conner. God, you make me feel so... alive again. I forgot what it felt like, you know." She squeezed again, then let go. "Okay, okay. I'm on it." She ran her hands over her clothes, her hair, to make sure everything was in place and then walked out of the room.