Con Man: Complete Series Box Set: A Bad Boy Romance (21 page)

D
inner had been a fantastic surprise
. I came home from the gym to the rich Italian aroma that filled my apartment, and I couldn’t deny how impressed I was that Bron had cooked for me, that he could cook at all. My first thought after tasting that gourmet masterpiece was that I should leave him home more often.

And then I realized how that sounded. Like I intended to have him in my apartment long term instead of only until I could figure out what I should do with him.

I already knew what I
wanted
to do with him, and that was definitely off the table.

Which of course made me think about things I wanted to do on the table...

It took more effort than it should have to keep my attention on platonic things. After I told him about my parents, he touched my hand, making the whole platonic thing even harder. I took too long to pull my hand away, but he didn't say a word. Then he let me turn the conversation to other pitifully dismal subjects, and before I knew it, he was telling me stories, just like he had when we were kids. The content was different, of course, but his style hadn't changed.

“It was terrifying,” he said. “There I was, in the kitchen, thinking I'd done something wrong, and there's this huge pot of boiling water. The next thing I know, I'm trying to figure out how I can save the lobsters and still get dinner.”

He was laughing about it, and I was laughing too, but there was an edge of sadness to my humor. I knew what he hadn't said in his story, that he'd been afraid that the water had been for him, that he'd expected a painful punishment. And I knew that meant Uaine hadn't simply been a manipulative mentor. He'd been abusive.

I wanted that bastard now more than ever.

Bron's laughter faded, and his smile faded just as fast. The look in his eyes told me that he knew what I was thinking. He slid across the short distance separating us and put his hand over mine.

“It's okay, Karis.”

I shook my head. “No, it's not.”

It was one thing to have read his file, to know these things intellectually. It was something else to
know
the stories first hand.

I reached up with my free hand and cupped his cheek. This was dangerous territory, I knew, but any thoughts I had about my job, about this case, were lost beneath my deep need to take care of this young man. To erase the memory of the pain in his past. I knew I couldn't change things for him, but maybe I could show him that he wasn't alone anymore. Even if only for a little while.

I leaned forward and brushed my lips across his. “I'm sorry.”

I wasn't really sure what I was apologizing for. None of what happened was my fault, but I still felt the need to say it.

Bron's fingers tightened around mine. “It's okay. Really. It's in the past. Can't be changed.”

A lump formed in my throat. He'd been through so much.

“I'm still sorry it happened to you,” I said quietly.

He didn't say anything for a moment, though I could see that he was thinking hard about something. The silence only lasted a few seconds, and then I saw a determined light come into his eyes, and he leaned toward me.

I expected the kiss this time, but I wasn't prepared for the intensity that came with it. He pulled me closer, parted my lips with his tongue. I could feel the firm definition of his muscles under my palms, feel the strength in his arms. The men I'd dated in the past hadn't been weak, but I'd never been with anyone able to make me feel small.

His teeth scraped my bottom lip, and I moaned. My hands fisted in his shirt, and I had an overwhelming urge to tear it off. I wanted hands on skin, wanted to feel all of him.

Dumb. Monumentally stupid.

I grabbed for the hem of his shirt and pulled it up. I caught the flash of surprise that crossed his face, but by the time I tossed his shirt to the floor, it was replaced by lust. I shivered as his dark gaze ran over me, and then his hands were on me, stripping off my shirt and pants, leaving me in only my plain cotton bra and panties.

“Karis.”

My name came out in a growl.

I ran my hands down his chest, felt his muscles twitch under my touch. I hooked my fingers into the belt loop of his jeans and pulled as I stood. I wanted this, no matter the consequences, but I wanted it to be worth it.

“Bedroom,” I said.

He stood and looked down at me, his expression serious. “Are you sure about this?”

I didn't even hesitate. “I've been wanting this since forever.”

“Me too.” He brushed a few stray curls back from my face.

I took his hand, leading him back to my bedroom. I didn't look at him as I climbed onto my bed, needing the extra moment to prepare myself for what was about to happen. When I finally turned, I saw Bron standing next to my bed, watching me. I propped myself up on my elbows, willing myself not to be self-conscious.

“Are you okay?” I asked, wondering if he was having second thoughts. Just because I'd wanted him all these years didn't mean the feeling was mutual.

He knelt next to the bed and reached out to run his hands up my legs to my knees. A surprised squeak escaped as he pulled me to him. His hands settled on my hips, and his eyes met mine.

“I've been imagining this moment since I was thirteen,” he confessed. “Wondering what you would look like. Feel like.”

His fingers traced patterns on my skin, making it hard to concentrate. Then he leaned down and pressed his lips against the inside of my thigh.

“How you would taste.”

Heat coiled in my stomach. “And?” The word was breathless.

“Better than anything I could've ever dreamed.”

He yanked off my panties in one quick motion and hooked my legs over his shoulders. I cried out the moment his tongue touched me, and his hands reached for mine. My back arched as my fingers threaded between his, his tongue dancing across my skin. I'd had men go down on me before, but never with such enthusiasm.

And skill.

Damn, he had skill.

I'd never been a vocal lover, but as my first orgasm washed over me, I couldn't stop saying his name. At least, not until he silenced me by covering my mouth with his. I tasted myself on his tongue and dug my nails into his shoulders, pulling him closer. His hands were between us, under my back, and then my bra was gone. His hands covered my breasts even as his cock rubbed against my wet slit, a promise of things to come. I writhed under the firm weight of his body, tongues dueling for dominance as his thumbs and fingers played with my nipples. He shifted his hips, rubbing against my still throbbing clit.

I slid my hands down his back to his firm ass, squeezed, and felt Bron's body jerk against mine.

He released my mouth, lifting his head enough so that his eyes could meet mine. I wanted to look away from the emotions I saw swimming there, but I couldn't. I couldn't even close my eyes as he began to slide inside. A whimper slipped from between my lips as my body stretched, molded itself around him. I could feel him throbbing, feel every inch of him.

When I first decided that I wanted this to happen, I'd expected something fast, passionate. The sort of rough and tumble that came with long-held desire. What I hadn't imagined was that once he was inside me, he'd take it slow. Every thrust was deep, rubbing against all the places with the most exquisite patience. And he watched me, his lips a breath away from mine.

“Karis,” he murmured. “
My
Karis.”

His fingers brushed my hair away from my face, ran along my cheekbones, my jaw. His touch almost seemed too gentle for the strength vibrating from his body. I wrapped my legs around his waist, moved my body up toward his.

“Come for me.”

His voice was rough, and I knew he was close. That
I
had brought him to this point.

“Come for me, baby.”

He nipped at my jaw, and the sting was just what I needed. I arched against him, pulling him deep inside me. Pleasure pulsed over me, through me. He groaned, a low, guttural sound that spiked something primal, making me press my mouth against his shoulder, worry at the skin with my teeth. His body stiffened as he came, and I clung to him, letting myself forget everything that would come, letting myself be in the moment. Here. With him.

My
Bron.

S
hit
. Double fucking shit.

From the moment awareness first came to me, I remembered what happened, what I'd done.

We’d done.

The pleasant throbbing between my legs would've been enough, but
he
was still next to me, his arm draped across my naked body. The bed wasn't very large, and the two of us were both much taller than average, so it made for a tight sleeping space.

I forced myself to look at him for a moment. Take in the tousled bronze hair, the flushed cheeks. The yards of gorgeous skin and muscles.

The bruise I'd left on his shoulder.

I closed my eyes for a moment, pushing back the panic. I took a slow breath and then worked on getting out from under Bron's arm without waking him. When I managed it, I resisted the urge to look at him again, to appreciate his long, lean body.

It wasn't until I turned on the shower that I woke up enough to realize that I had additional evidence of what happened last night.

I ran a hand through my snarled curls and cursed under my breath. We hadn't used a damned condom. I knew I couldn't get pregnant. I'd been on the pill for years. And I'd always been careful before so I knew I didn't have anything. But Bron...

My stomach twisted as I remembered the incident that had prompted the late Leticia Backman to come report her new “artist friend” to the FBI. She’d caught her gay stray fucking her maid.

Twisting became churning and I fought to keep myself from throwing up.

What had I done?

* * *

W
hen I walked
out of the bathroom nearly half an hour later, Bron was sitting up in the bed, arms folded behind his head. Thankfully, the covers were up to his waist so I didn't have to face the embarrassment of him being naked. Me in a towel and him under a sheet was bad enough.

“Good morning,” he said with a goofy smile.

In that moment, he looked more like the boy I'd known more than a decade ago.

“Good morning.” The words came out flat. I'd spent most of my time in the shower crying, realizing that I'd royally screwed up. Now, I felt strangely empty.

“Listen, Karis, about last night,” he started.

“Last night was a mistake,” I finished for him, the statement firm but not harsh.

“I-I agree,” he said.

All of the light went out of his beautiful cerulean eyes, and I watched the shields go back into place. In a matter of seconds, he'd gone from the boy I'd had a crush on, the man I'd made lo–had sex with last night, to the smooth, cool criminal I'd arrested.

And that was all the reminder I needed of why this was a bad idea.

“Last night could jeopardize my whole career,” I said, my tone matter-of-fact. “And it could royally screw up your case.”

“Right.”

The look on his face told me that he hadn’t thought about that second part yet. Sleeping with one of the federal agents who had brought him in wouldn’t do him any favors in court. My future wasn’t the only one in trouble here. Surely he understood that.

I stood there for a moment before grabbing some clothes and heading back into the bathroom to dress. Waking up next to him hadn't been awful. The sex had been everything I'd always imagined it would be.

I just wished the aftermath could've been different.

But like everything else in our lives, we couldn't change where we were, who we were. Both of us had been through tragedies in our lives, but we'd taken such different paths. He was a criminal and I was a federal agent. It was worse than oil and water. No matter how much we'd meant to each other in the past, what happened last night could never happen again.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, this time fully dressed, Bron was waiting, a sheet wrapped around his waist. Blood rushed to my cheeks, and I quickly looked away.

“Mind if I catch a shower?”

I nodded, unsure if I was relieved or upset that he sounded so normal. I'd thought my words had hurt him, but now I wondered if it had all been an act. If he'd been trying to charm me and I'd thwarted his plans.

“It’s all yours,” I said, gesturing towards the bathroom.

As he walked past me, I reminded myself that he was a con man. Manipulating people was his most basic tactic and skill. Everything he did depended on his ability to read someone and use it to his advantage. I wanted to believe that he hadn’t actually changed, that he was still the same person I used to play with every day. I'd known all of that going into our current situation, but somehow I’d allowed myself to forget, perhaps allowed myself to be manipulated by a masterful con man. He’d tricked me into trusting him, and if I kept going down this road with him, he was going to cost me my job. He could even use what happened between us as a way out of trouble. At the same time, he knew that I had no recourse here. There was no way I could report his misconduct without revealing my own.

Shit. Was I being held hostage by having taken him into my personal custody? My bed?

The shower stopped, and I tensed. I poured myself another coffee while I waited for him to come out, hoping the familiar warmth would help calm my nerves.

He walked into the kitchen wearing only a towel around his waist, which completely counteracted any positive effects the coffee might've had.

“All done,” he said with a smile.

“Feel better?” So, this was it. Our conversation was being reduced to small talk.

“Much better,” he said. He pulled the towel from around his waist and began drying his hair.

I narrowed my eyes at him, careful to keep them on his smug expression instead of his gorgeous body.

“What?” He shrugged.

“I know what you’re doing.” I sipped my coffee and walked out of the kitchen, heading to my room before I could give into the temptation...again.

“What am I doing?” He called after me, a note of playfulness in the question.

“Our relationship needs to remain professional, and that’s final, Bron.” I closed my bedroom door and leaned back on it.

“What the hell?” His voice came through the bedroom door muffled. “My clothes are in there.”

“Dammit,” I muttered as I grabbed his pants from the floor. I opened the door a crack and threw the jeans out. “You could have gotten dressed in the bathroom.”

I sat on my bed and sipped my coffee while Bron was hopefully getting dressed. What the hell were we going to do until Monday? It was Sunday, so despite still having work to do on the case, we didn’t have to go into the office. I had tried to get him to enjoy a trip to the museum with me yesterday, but I didn't want to risk anything like that again.

After a few minutes of silence in the other room, there was a knock at my door. “Hey, I’m dressed,” he said as he opened my bedroom door and poked his head in. “But I really do need to get some other stuff to wear.”

Maybe that's what we could do, I thought. Go to a store and get him some new clothes. I glanced at him as he grabbed his shirt from the floor and pulled it on. Even with his fine body hidden, he was still a temptation, and I needed to make sure we both kept busy enough that I didn't risk being compromised again.

“All right,” I said, standing up. “Then that's where we'll go first.”

“What?” He looked confused.

Confused was good. That meant he was off-balance, not in control. “We're going to get you some clothes.”

“We should probably get groceries too.”

Now it was my turn to be confused.

He gave me that infuriating grin again. “No way am I eating fast food and take-out until we snag Uaine. I'll cook.”

I would've argued if he hadn't been so damn good at it. So clothes first, then food. That should keep us busy for at least a couple hours. After that, I had no clue what we were going to do.