Caught Up In You 3: Designer Love and Empty Things (Edgeplay) Read Free

Hell, you’re drenched .” He groans the last word as two fingers sink inside my opening.
     I arch my back, taking the thick digits deeper, letting him finger fuck me right out of my anger, out of my pain, hell, right out of my mind. His lips claim the other nipple as his thumb finds my clit. He works the small bundle with a steady rhythm, matching the thrusting of his fingers until I’m riding his hand, galloping toward release.
     The pad of his index finger unerringly seeks out that hot spot inside my clenching channel and that’s all it takes before my body bows in total release.
     I’m still panting when Connor takes his hand back. I turn toward him instinctively, but he’s rigid with tension. “I’ll be right back.”
     I’m half asleep when I hear the small, stifled sounds emanating from my bathroom and realize he’s bringing himself to climax by his own hand while still covered in my juices. Such an intimate act to share, but he’s not really sharing, because he took mine and then withheld his. I’m not sure how I feel about that, and am too exhausted to care.
     Connor returns, still dressed, climbs onto the bed behind me and snuggles me up against him. I turn toward him and seek his lips. He seems surprised but then returns the gesture, melding his mouth to mine. We settle down, content to have shared one last kiss tonight. Tomorrow, I’ll do the smart thing.
     We’ll see about that, Snarkarella mutters.
     
     
     
     

Chapter Two
     
      A n irritating beeping sound penetrates my dreamless rest. I blink groggily, still suffering from exhaustion, but disturbed by the sense that I’ve forgotten something important.
     Connor strokes his thumb over my elbow. “You awake?”
     “Yeah.” At least my headache is gone. His home remedy worked like a charm. “What time is it?”
     “A little after seven.” He buries his face in my hair, which can’t smell that great after the explosion, but the gesture is still sweet.
     “Seven?” I scowl, wading through the fog until a cold wave of terror washes it away. “Oh shit.”
     Connor sits up. “What’s wrong?”
     “My second pill. It was in my purse. I left it in the car.” The one that exploded last night.
     I brace myself for his overreaction, wondering if he’ll try to drag me back to the city. He surprises me by reaching for his cellphone on the nightstand. “I’ll have Doctor Trammel prescribe you another at the local pharmacy. One of my security patrols will pick it up for you. Go back to sleep.”
     I wonder if he’s been body snatched again, but a reasonable Connor is much easier to deal with. “Thanks, but the scare kind of got my adrenaline going. I think I’ll just take a shower.”
     “I’ll make some coffee.” He smiles at me, a shy, hopeful smile that breaks my heart a little.
     I take my time in the shower, letting the hot water pound my sore muscles. Maybe I’ll do some yoga later to help loosen myself up a bit. When the hot water is finally used up, I dry off, shrug on my bloodred terrycloth bathrobe and swath my hair in a towel turban.
     The bedroom is empty and I can hear Connor talking to someone, though I can’t make out the words. I wait for a few minutes, unsure who is in my house now. I really ought to stop thinking of this place as mine, even if I did grow up here. It’s the groundskeeper’s cottage. Connor owns it, just like he owns the rest of the Rosemont Estate. If I end our sexual relationship, will he evict me?
      Of course he will, Snarkarella hisses. Do you really think he’ll let you keep on here when you reject him?
     I sink onto the bed and close my eyes. I’d grown up here, in this cottage, on this property. At times it was confining, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t resent living in the shadow of the various wealthy people who’ve owned the Rosemont over the years. Where would I go though?
     Even if he did let me stay here, could I really stay here, see him bring other