Needing Her

Chapter Six

Maci

I’D SUCCESSFULLY AVOIDED actually speaking to Connor for two days. Two days that felt like years. Okay, successfully avoiding might not be the right words to use here. He wasn’t exactly talking to me, and I couldn’t figure out what to say whenever I saw him. When I’d gotten home from having breakfast with Amber the other morning, and then going to see my mom for a few hours—­since I’d told Connor I was hanging out with Bryce—­he was locking up his apartment and turning to leave just as I reached my door.

He stopped abruptly and just stared at me, his intensity filling the space between us. With two large steps, he closed the distance between us and looked down at me. Those bright blue eyes held mine, the question in them one I still didn’t know. Just as I’d opened my mouth to apologize again for whatever I might have done the night before, he grabbed my left hand, looked at it, and then dropped it before walking past me as he shook his head.

I’d all but fallen against my door and blown out a large breath I’d been holding when he walked out of sight, and had to sit there trying to catch my breath from one of the more intense interactions I’d ever had with him. And there hadn’t even been any words.

Since then, we’d crossed paths a few more times as we came and left the apartments; each time the looks got longer, and the air got thicker. But I was still being a pussy. I was afraid of what I’d done while I was drunk that he’d want to talk to me about. At least yesterday I’d gone back to work, so I was able to have a legitimate excuse for not being able to talk to him.

My alarm went off again, and I groaned as I tapped the screen on my phone to shut it off. I’d already snoozed it twice to try to stay in the dream I’d been having of the intense blue-­eyed man next door . . . but I needed to get to work before my brothers came busting down my door looking for my “boyfriend.”

With a heavy exhale, I practically fell out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom. I wanted to go back to sleep so I could be in a place where I could stare at those blue eyes whenever I wanted. Where I could imagine the way his lips would feel against my neck as he pressed me against a wall. I wonder if I can get away with saying I have cramps today so I don’t have to go to—­oh wait, shit, I did that last—­

“Oh my God! Holy shit, what the fuck?” I screamed and jumped back off my toilet when it popped like gunfire underneath me. Thank God I hadn’t started peeing yet. But, seriously, what . . . the hell . . . had just happened?

My hand cautiously reached for the toilet seat, like the inanimate object might jump out and bite me. And with a determined huff, I grabbed it and threw it up.

“Connor!” I screeched and ripped the bubble wrap off the toilet bowl. “You son of a bitch, I know you can hear me!”

Pulling up my underwear and sweats, I stormed through my apartment, unlocked my door, and flung it open. A scream tore through my chest, and I jumped away as a trash can filled with water fell into my apartment as my door swung open. Mouth and eyes wide open, I just stared at the water-­covered entrance and living room for long seconds before my mind started working, and I took off running for my bathroom again. Almost going into the splits on the way there from running on the wet hardwood.

“I will kill you for this! You flooded my apartment!” I yelled, knowing full well he could hear me.

Grabbing all the towels in the bathroom and linen closet, I ran back to my living room and started throwing towels everywhere as I continued to scream and curse Connor Green. Not five minutes into trying to dry everything so there wouldn’t be permanent damage, two different neighbors stopped by because of my screaming, and graciously lent me piles of their towels too.

“What happened?” an older guy who lived across the hall from Connor asked. “And what’s with the trash can?”

I gritted my teeth as I gathered soaked towels to take them to my laundry room. “All I’m saying is this, if you hear my neighbor yelling tonight . . . just know that he’s getting what he deserves.”

The guy jerked his head back before continuing to pat dry my throw rug. “The guy I’m across from?”

“The very one,” I hissed.

He shook his head and huffed. “You’re saying this is because of him? I don’t buy it. That guy is the quietest neighbor I’ve ever had, and isn’t he law enforcement?”

My face drained of expression as I stared at him. “And what exactly is that supposed to mean for me right now? I grew up with him. Pranks are kind of a phase we go through every now and then.”

He just continued with shaking his head. “Just doesn’t seem like that kind of guy.”

I wanted the guy to leave, but he was helping me dry my apartment. So instead of responding again and being snotty, I just walked back to the laundry room and threw the towels into the washer.

Once we were done, I went to Connor’s apartment, but wasn’t surprised to find him gone. I figured he was at work, with how long he’d been off. Part of me was happy that there had been a prank at all. A very. Very. Small part, mind you. Because that meant that whatever weirdness had been going on between us was, hopefully, ending. But I was absolutely livid that he almost gave me a heart attack as I’d sat on my toilet, and then flooded my apartment.

Shit just got real, Connor Green. I’m going to enjoy pissing you off.

Connor

PICKING UP MY phone off the desk, I glanced at the screen and didn’t give it a second thought when I saw PRIVATE NUMBER. I always had informants calling from blocked numbers, and since my partner, Detective Sanders, and I were getting nowhere fast with a homicide that wasn’t adding up from two nights ago, they were expected and wanted.

“This is Detective Green.”

“I’m interested,” the deep voice said.

“Excuse me?” I grabbed for a pen and pad of paper, and waited for the voice to start up again.

“I’ll call you ‘Daddy.’ ”

The hell? “I’m sorry, you have the wrong number.” I pressed END and stared at the screen for a few seconds before shaking my head and putting the phone back on my desk.

“Who was that?”

I looked over at Sanders and shrugged. “No clue. Okay, every lead we’ve gotten has been a dead end. Let’s review the footage from the store again, look at all the ­people who entered after him and left before or right after he did. Let’s get all the cars we can see from the outer cameras, and make sure they all match ­people who were accounted for in the store.” I loosened my tie and ran a hand through my hair. “I need more coffee first, want some?”

Sanders looked over at me like I was stupid. “We’ve been at this for almost thirty hours. What do you think?”

“That you need to get your own damn coffee if you’re going to be a bastard, gramps. I got called in same time you did, I’m just as tired as you are, and I’m just as lost about this case as you are. Don’t be a dick to me because we’re not getting anywhere,” I snapped and walked over to the coffee station.

Sanders and I were complete opposites, but when we worked together, we were damn good. To have a case that left us completely clueless was frustrating for both of us. We needed to go home and get some fucking sleep before we tore into each other.

The victim had been shot three times as he’d exited a store in a nice part of the city. He lived alone, and nothing had been stolen or happened to his house before or after the shooting; he still had his wallet with all his money and credit cards on him, and he had no ties to gangs or drug trafficking. No witnesses saw him get shot, but the way it was done was like someone was getting revenge, or sending a sign. And where he’d been standing was out of range of the outside cameras. All his immediate and extended family lived in the Midwest and couldn’t believe what had happened when we’d called. According to them, and everyone he worked with, he was the nicest guy and kept to himself. I’d been sure we’d find something when we tore apart his apartment, but there’d been nothing. We’d just finished going over his phone records when my phone rang. Other than work and family . . . there was nothing. Murder was what I faced with my job; more often that not, it was gang or drug related. But these cases where the victims were completely innocent were something that just tore you apart. The need to solve them intensified, so you could give the family some kind of peace.

After getting both Sanders’s coffee and mine, I walked back over to our desks and handed him his. “Come on, let’s go review the footage again.”

Two and a half hours later, Sanders and I were more frustrated than we’d been before. There was nothing, and in the large gap between outdoor cameras, there were multiple lanes the shooter’s car could have gone down, but none had gone through both cameras at the right timing. We were getting ready to do a press briefing with news outlets about what had happened, asking for help and any information, before we called it a night, when my phone rang again.

I practically lunged for my desk, hoping for some kind of information. But it was a call much like the one I’d received after we’d finished going over the phone records. Different voice—­this one actually had a number—­and, unfortunately, he tried to keep the conversation going as he kept calling me Daddy. When I ran the number through the system, it came back as a pay phone, and I was left even more confused . . . and seriously fucking disturbed. But I was so drained, discouraged from the case, and pissed off for the victim and his family that I couldn’t muster the energy to want to figure out what was going on with the phone calls.

When I got home, taped to my door was an envelope with the words “Bro, have you seen this? They’re everywhere!” scrawled across it. I pulled out the brightly colored paper as I looked up and down the hall for anyone who might have left the note, unfolded it, and did a double take when I saw my picture blown up on it. Across the top in large, bold writing was SWM LOOKING FOR SBM WHO WILL CALL ME DADDY. IF INTERESTED, CALL ME! SMOOCHES.

Honest to God, below my picture was my cell number.

Too far. Too far. Too fucking far. I wasn’t breathing, and the hall was spinning around me. My hand shot out in front of me to grip the frame of my door as I took deep breaths in and out until I felt like I could stay standing again.

When I hadn’t been at work, or when I’d taken breaks to clear my head from the case, I’d been miserable thinking about how Maci and I still hadn’t talked. I hated thinking about her marrying that self-­entitled douche, and yet, I still couldn’t make myself do anything about it, because I knew I should leave her alone. Cassidy had ruined me for half a year, and even she hadn’t consumed me like Maci was.

I don’t know why everything suddenly changed between us, and I don’t know why I’d never noticed her. It’d been a week since she’d brought me out of the Cassidy-­haze. And it didn’t matter that it’d only been a week, or that half that time had been us pissed at each other. Those seven days had somehow felt like years of torture as I kept myself from her. But then she goes and pulls this shit? I flipped through my keys until I found hers and stormed into her apartment, already yelling before I even found her back in her bedroom.

“You’re messing with my career! Maci, don’t you get that? I’m a detective, ­people on the streets know me, there are a lot of law enforcement who will see that picture and know it’s me!”

She sat up and a soft smile crossed her face briefly before she could hide it and give me a puzzled look. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t have time for your bullshit!” I slapped the flyer down on her bed near her feet and alternated pointing between it and her. “Where did you put all of these? You need to go take them down! You really think this is funny?”

That coy smile was back and she crossed her arms under her chest as she shrugged. “Actually, yeah, I did kind of think it was funny.”

“You went too goddamn far today! I’m done dealing with your shit.”

“Really . . . you’re done? Then why do you keep playing this game with me, huh?”

I grabbed at the flyer and threw it toward her. “This isn’t a game, this is my life!”

She threw her hands up before folding them under her chest again. “What the hell is with you tonight? The whole thing is a joke, I didn’t actually make a bunch of flyers! I just made the one; the two guys who called you are my friends. It was all just a joke! They’re the ones that helped me make it and put it on your door. You need to calm down, do you really think I would do something like that to you?”

My chest moved up and down rapidly as I took quick, hard breaths through my nose. “Yeah, I do! Why the hell wouldn’t you do that? You’ve been a fucking pain in my ass for the last week . . . for most my life.” I closed my eyes, cracked my neck and shook my head before turning to leave. “All of this, we’re done. Both of us,” I called over my shoulder.

“So when a prank sucks for you, we’re done. But you can do them with no consequences?” she asked, and I heard her feet hit the hardwood floor behind me. “You flooded my fucking apartment yesterday!”

“I’m just done, Maci. Done with this, done with you.” The more we did this . . . the more I interacted with her . . . the more I would want her. She was marrying someone else. I couldn’t keep doing this.

“I’ve known you most of my life, we’re neighbors . . . you’re just going to act like I don’t exist now?”

Scrubbing my hands over my face after I unlocked my door, I pushed it opened and started taking all my gear off my belt and slamming it down on the kitchen table. “I don’t know, maybe. Look, I got called in a day early on a case that is killing me, it’s been a long thirty-­six hours, I’m fucking exhausted, just give me some time alone without dealing with one of your pranks. And swear to God if there’s something in my apartment, you better tell me now.”

“There’s nothing, and seriously, sue me. All I wanted was for you to come back to life. Like I told you, you were a zombie a week ago, is it wrong for me to want to change that? What even happened to you?”

“That’s really none of your business.”

“Why won’t you just talk to me? Tell me what happened half a year ago, and tell me about the case. This isn’t like you, maybe it’ll help to get it off your—­”

Turning quickly, I put a hand to her chest and took two long steps until I had her pinned to the wall. “I said it’s none of your goddamn business! Stop pushing for something you have no right to know! If you want to talk so fucking bad, why don’t you tell me why the hell you’re going to marry that douche even though I know you don’t want to. You don’t even want to be with him, Maci, I know he doesn’t do anything for you.”

Her chest rose and fell rapidly, and her eyes narrowed. “Who the hell are you to say that I don’t want him or that he doesn’t do anything for me? Why the fuck do you even care?”

“Because I’ve had to listen to you moaning his name! I’ve had to listen to you pretending that what he’s doing is working for you.”

“And it is!”

“Do you moan louder to piss me off? Does he know that show you’ve been putting on is more for me than him? I swear to Christ if I have to hear you say his name one more time, I am going to lose my ever-­loving mind.”

“Why? I have to listen to your whor—­”

“Because the name you’re moaning should be mine!”

Her gray eyes blinked rapidly and she licked her lips. “W-­what?”

“I guarantee you, if it were me inside you . . . the noises you’d be making wouldn’t be faked or forced . . . fuck, Maci, you wouldn’t be able to stop them from happening even if you tried.”

I closed the distance between us and brought my mouth down onto hers. A high-­pitched moan sounded from her chest, and her arms came up around my shoulders, bringing me closer. Cupping her face in my hands, I traced her bottom lip with my tongue and bit down when they parted on a gasp.

“Don’t marry him, Maci,” I whispered into her mouth.

“I’m not.”

Pulling back, I looked at her and watched as her eyes fluttered open. “You’re not?”

“Of course not.”

I searched her eyes and breathed a “Thank God” before claiming her mouth again.

Maci’s hands slid down my chest and stomach, resting on my belt for just a second before she grabbed at my shirt and began pulling it out of my pants. Her fingers quickly worked through each button as I pulled off my tie just before she was pushing the shirt off my shoulders and down my arms. I grabbed the back of the undershirt I was wearing, and pulled it over my head, letting it fall to the floor

I groaned, and the muscles in my stomach contracted when she lightly ran her nails down my torso.

“Maci, tell me to stop,” I pleaded with her as I grabbed the waistband of her pajama pants and started pushing them down.

How we’d gone from yelling at each other about pranks, pasts that needed to stay there, and current partners, to where we were now . . . I had no idea. But with the way her body was reacting to mine, I knew I wouldn’t stop. She had to be the one to stop this, or I was going to take what I’d been keeping myself from.

She responded by curling her hands over mine, and pushing her pants the rest of the way down before stepping out of them, and I stepped back to look at her body as she pulled off the thin shirt she’d been wearing. Fucking beautiful.

I captured her mouth with mine again as I ran my hands over her bare skin, and when they hit her thighs, I grabbed them and pulled her up to press her against the wall. A raspy giggle left her that quickly turned into a moan as I bent forward to pull one of her nipples into my mouth. Her hands went into my hair and pulled my head closer to her body. I didn’t know how I could move from where we were right now, but that moan had to be the most amazing sound I’d ever heard from her. And I wanted to hear it over and over again. Remembering the fake sounds I’d always heard her make, I knew I needed to make this about her, no matter how much I wanted to take her up against this wall. For once, Maci needed someone who took care of her; and a quick fuck against the wall wouldn’t do that, and wasn’t what I wanted for my first time with her.

Pushing away from the wall, I released her breast and stared into her gray eyes as I walked us into my bedroom. Laying her down on the center of my bed, I was hit with every fantasy I’d been having of her over the last week. Part of me couldn’t believe she was actually lying on my bed; hair splayed everywhere as her hooded eyes followed my every movement. The other part of me couldn’t believe I was about to be stupid enough to take what I wanted.

My hands went to my belt, and I kept my eyes trained on hers as I slowly unbuckled it and slid it through the loops before letting it fall to the carpet Popping the button on my pants, I crawled onto the bed and over her, and about died when her face lit up with a come-­get-­me smile. I kept my hands planted on either side of her head, and lowered myself until I could tease her lips, and pulled back each time she tried to deepen the kiss.

A soft growl left her, and her eyes leveled a glare at me before I pressed my mouth firmly to hers and prompted her to open with my tongue. Her growl turned to a needy groan, and her hands went back to my pants. I pressed into her hand when she palmed me where I was straining against the material, but the second her hand went to the zipper; I sat back and moved her hands away.

Quickly leaning forward to kiss her confused face, I kissed a trail down her jaw to her ear as I moved off her body and whispered, “Let me take care of you.”

Running the back of my hand down her flat stomach, I gently prodded her legs open as my lips explored her neck and collarbone. My fingers trailed over her, and she whimpered when I groaned. She was so wet, so ready, and I’d never been more turned on in my life. Slipping two fingers into her, I pressed my thumb against her clit and made teasing circles as she pressed harder against my hand.

“Oh God,” she breathed when I quickened the pace. “Connor, please.”

“Please what?” I asked against her throat, and placed an openmouthed kiss there.

Her breathing was getting ragged as she rocked her hips against my hand, and I knew she was close. “Please—­just don’t stop. God, don’t.”

“Don’t do this?” I pulled my hand away from her, and slammed my mouth down onto hers just before she could voice her frustration. “Trust me, Maci, I’m not done with you yet,” I said against her lips and moved down the bed and in between her legs.

Her eyes widened, and she looked like she was about to stop me, but the second my tongue swiped against her, her hips thrust off the bed, and a loud moan left her. I laughed against her swollen lips and gave another slow lick before sucking on her clit and bringing my hand back up to tease her entrance. Maci whimpered before begging me to continue as her hands threaded into my hair to hold me where I was.

“Holy shi—­oh my God!” she cried out as her body shattered around me, and I continued through her orgasm.

Once her body went limp on the bed, I pulled away and stood from the bed.

“Commando?” she asked, her tone somewhat teasing as I shed my pants and searched for a condom.

I turned to look at her and winked. “Does that bother you?”

“No, but I was wrong.”

I paused when I began crawling back on the bed. “Wrong?”

“I’ve wondered for a long time, I’d finally decided boxer briefs,” she said with a coy smile.

Laughing loudly, I grabbed her hips and pulled her closer to me; loving that her legs automatically wrapped around me. “So you’ve thought about this before, huh?”

She shrugged and feigned indifference. “A time or two.”

“Uh-­huh, a time or two.” I bit down on her collarbone and pressed against her entrance. Maci rocked her hips against me, and I spoke against her flawless skin. “I don’t know if I can be easy with you right now, Maci. I’m trying to hold off until I feel like I have more control, but you’re driving me crazy.”

Cupping my neck, she brought my face to hers and pressed her thumbs under my jaw until I was looking into her eyes. “Then don’t be easy,” she said so softly, I almost didn’t hear her.

“Maci—­”

She rocked against me again, and with a growl, I slammed into her. Her nails dug into my shoulders, and a whimper mixed with pain left her.

“Shit, are you okay?”

“Move, Connor, oh God, please move,” she urged, and rocked her hips.

I cautiously began moving inside her. Terrified of causing her any more pain, I focused on her movements, and smiled when she glowered at me.

“If this is you not being in control,” she said breathlessly, “I’m worried what you’re like when you’re in control.”

Leaning back, I pulled almost all the way out before slamming back in over and over again. Using one hand to raise myself off her, I watched as her eyes rolled to the back of her head and she urged me to go harder as I continued pounding into her.

“Oh God, I’m—­” she cut off when I shifted up onto my knees so I could quicken the pace.

Grabbing her legs, I brought them around my waist and leaned back over her, resting one hand on the bed, and letting the other trail to her sensitive bud. The second I rolled my fingers around it, her back arched and my name tore through her throat as she began shuddering around me, almost causing me to fall over the edge with her. Gritting my teeth, I rode her through her second orgasm and grabbed the hand that was trailing up my chest and slammed it down on the bed as I came harder than I ever have before.

Maci unlocked her legs from around my back, and I rocked onto the side that wasn’t holding her hand, bringing her with me. Her body was shaking subtly, but when I looked down at her face, there was nothing but the brightest smile there. Releasing her hand, I wrapped my arm around her body and held her close as we both calmed down. With a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth, I uncurled my body from hers and walked to the bathroom to dispose of the condom and wash up. When I walked back into my room, I stopped short, and the high I’d been riding ever since I’d kissed her in my living room suddenly left me.

She wasn’t in the room, and when I walked down the hall, she was putting her clothes on from where she’d taken them off earlier.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Her gray eyes widened, and she quickly pulled her pants up as she faced me. “Isn’t this what you want? Don’t you want me to leave?”

“Why the fuck would I want you to leave? What was that just now for you?” No, this isn’t fucking happening. She’s said too much for me to think that she doesn’t care about me.

“You always make your girls leave,” she whispered, and looked around the room, avoiding eye contact with me. “I thought when you got up, that’s what you wanted me to do.”

I’d never seen Maci so unsure of herself and timid-­looking. I quickly closed the distance between us and pulled her close, cupping her face in my hands. “If all you wanted was for me to fuck you, then go. But, Maci, you’re not like those girls. I don’t want you to leave.”

Those eyes shot back up to mine, and a soft smile crossed her face. “Really?”

Letting go of her, I shook my head and shrugged helplessly. “Jesus Christ, Maci. I haven’t gone more than a few minutes without thinking about you this entire week. I’ve been going crazy keeping myself from you because I know this is going to turn out so bad for us. Your brothers will kill me. But after that . . . fuck. You can’t walk away from me . . . not after that. I can’t go back to avoiding whatever’s happening between—­”

She launched herself at me, wrapping her body around mine, and kissed me until our breathing was ragged.

“Does this mean you’ll get your ass back in my bed?”

“I’m kind of wondering why you aren’t already walking us back there, Detective.”

I bit down on her bottom lip and was suddenly ready for round two when another sexy moan sounded in her throat. “I hate it when you call me that.”

“I know.”

“Watch it, Maci,” I said in a teasing warning.

“Or what?” she whispered against my lips. “You’ll lose control with me again?”

I smiled and began walking to the bedroom. “You haven’t seen me lose control yet, baby.”