She murmured something and snuggled her back closer to him.
He could have stayed like that forever, but considering it was early afternoon, his guess was the alarm was her reminder to pick up her son. “Angelina, wake up.”
She rolled over in his arms and her eyes opened. A smile curled her lips. “Hey, you.”
“Hey, yourself.” He gave her a gentle kiss. “What time do you need to pick up Whitney?”
“Whitney.” She sat straight up, her bare breasts jiggling free as she ran her hands through her hair. “Oh my God. What time is it?”
“Three o’clock.”
She let out a relieved breath and nodded. “That should give me enough time to get to my car and pick him up. He gets out of the technology club at five.” She looked across the room and froze when she saw her reflection in a large mirror across the room. “I can’t pick him up like this. I look—I look—”
“Gorgeous.” He sat up and kissed her shoulder. She had that wild hair, smudged makeup, rosy, well-fucked look that no man minded.
With her fingertips she tried to wipe away the makeup below her eyes. When it didn’t work, she blinked back tears. “I can’t be late picking him up.”
“Hey, hey. I’ll make sure you get there in plenty of time.”
She covered her face with her both hands. “I’m sorry.”
“So am I.” His post-sex euphoria drained away, replaced by gut-wrenching regret that he hadn’t kept to his original plan to take things slow with her.
She lowered her hands and met his gaze. “Don’t be. This isn’t about you.”
Another man might have taken her comment as an insult. Connor didn’t. “Is it about something I could help you with?” He held out a hand to her.
She laced her fingers with his. “I don’t want to ruin the day by vomiting my personal problems all over it.”
He nuzzled her neck. “Yeah, because fucking and friendship should never go together.”
She gave him a sidelong look and sniffed. “Is that what you want to be? Friends?”
It amazed him that someone who was so competent on the outside could be so fragile and lost as soon as emotions were involved. “Isn’t that the best foundation for any relationship?”
She shuddered. “It is.” She closed her eyes briefly then met his gaze again. “I’m worried about Whitney. He says everything is fine. On the surface it looks like it is. He does well in school. His teachers always like him. He’s struggling, though. When I picked him up yesterday—before he saw me—he looked sad. Did you like school?”
He grimaced. “I wasn’t what you’d call a good student.”
“I didn’t ask about your GPA. Did you enjoy it?”
“Sure. I mean, as much as anyone does, I guess.”
“What did you like about it?”
It wasn’t something he’d put much thought into in a long time so he took a moment to think back. “My friends. Playing football. Playing football with my friends. Hanging out. Sex. All the normal stuff.”
“Whitney never talks about friends. Never invites anyone over. As far as I know, he hasn’t stayed in contact with anyone at Reemsly. I was hoping this school would be different, but I’m worried that it won’t be.”
“He just started at the school. Give him time.”
“I know. I’m trying not to worry, but he has this idea that he has to be strong for me.”
“How old is he?”
“Thirteen.”
“That’s a tough age, but he has you in his corner. He’ll be okay.”
She smiled. “He asked to meet you tomorrow before our date—to make sure he approves of you.”
Good man. “I like him already.”
“And he warned me not to have sex with you on our first date. So try to look like—like we haven’t—” Her cheeks went delightfully pink.
“Gotcha.” He kissed the top of her head. “We’ll play it cool.”
“I’ve dated a few men since his father, but never anyone serious. And he didn’t meet them. There was never a reason for him to.” She looked embarrassed again. “Not that I’m saying there’s a reason for him to meet you—”
He stopped her from saying more with a kiss. She was a self-professed worrier. He hadn’t been one before he’d met the Barringtons and was on a journey back to a calmer place in his head. If she was interested, there was room for two in that space. “I like you, Angelina. I’m excited to meet your son tomorrow. Now, get your ass in the shower. I’d join you, but the goal is for you to be on time to pick him up, right?”
A smile returned to her face. “I’d say you could come with me to pick him up, but—”
He kissed her briefly again, then joked, “If your ass is late, it’s on you. I’ve been trying to kick you out of my bed for about twenty minutes.”
She ran a hand over one side of his face, gave him a long, hot look that nearly had him backpedaling and asking her to stay. “Thank you, Connor.”
It was his turn to get a little flustered. The man he saw in her eyes was comfortable with himself, kind without being a joke, a much better version of himself than he’d ever been. And for the first time in a long time he didn’t feel like he was acting. “Go on, get. I have shit to do. Really important things . . .”
She chuckled and crawled out of bed. The view of her bare ass was thought-erasing. When she stood and asked him if flying back to the office would be faster than driving, he just stared at her. Flying?
What office?
When she asked him again, he realized his smitten grin was not an adequate response. “Yes.”
“Yes, I should fly back? Or should I call a car? Are you heading back to your office?”
Yes, to whatever she wanted.
Uninhibited by her state of undress, she clapped her hands. “Are you listening to me?”
No, I’m too busy falling in love. He shook his head and continued to smile shamelessly at her. “Not really. You’re even more beautiful naked than you are dressed. Not everyone can make that claim.”
She laughed. “Call your pilot. I’ll be right back.” She gave him one last cheeky smile and darted into the bathroom.
There goes my future wife.
Sigh.
Now, what was it she wanted me to do?
A half hour before she needed to be there, Angelina was in her car in the parking lot of Whitney’s school waiting for him to be released from technology club. She didn’t mind waiting since it gave her time to process the sharp turn her relationship with Connor had taken.
It didn’t feel like they’d only had sex . . . it felt as if they’d gone from dancing around each other to choosing to be together. Scary. Wonderful. Almost too much to take in.
In the sex department, he’d certainly lived up to the hype. So did wall sex. Her cheeks warmed at the memory of how they’d barely made it into his apartment. She closed her eyes and relived being lifted up, wrapped around him and pounded into. Connor was the perfect combination of strong and gentle—forceful but thoughtful.
He was also particularly gifted with his tongue. It was a surprising talent for a man his size. Large men, especially attractive ones, didn’t have to try as hard with women. They knew they were in higher demand. Connor was confident but also attentive. Damn near perfect.