Reflection (The Chrysalis Series) (3 page)

BOOK: Reflection (The Chrysalis Series)
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But it had also happened when he should have already been on his way to work. Sam, his boss, put up with his lateness because he was a hard worker and he stayed until the work was done. Truth be told, Connor liked his job. It afforded him solitude and time to think. For all that he was an observer and documenter of humanity he didn’t enjoy spending a tremendous amount of time
among
people. He liked to be on the edges, watching and recording. He didn’t like to be interacting.

Hence, his job was perfect for him. As a custodian for the university, Connor had plenty of solitude to think and observe. People never noticed the help. A janitor was invisible until there was a mess to be cleaned up.

Still, Connor loved the campus and the work. He’d finish whatever task was at hand, only to be caught by the play of light on the mosaic tile lining a hallway. He’d instantly be transported and have to dig into his ever-present backpack and grab either his camera or his CleanSlate in order to capture the image.

Today, though, Sam had asked him to come in on his day off and help set up for a concert that was taking place on campus. A popular up-and-coming group, C Note, was giving a concert, requiring the small sports arena to be arranged and the stage set up and prepped for the evening’s entertainment. In fact, sound check was in just under an hour. He’d better get a move on.

Connor picked up the pace and was so focused on making his way across the small campus that he almost didn’t register the voice calling out to him. Turning, he saw the crazy jogger from this morning headed his direction.

Shit!
He had nowhere to go.

‘Hey there! Hold on.’

The redhead was still cute, but he remained wary as she hurried in his direction hampered by a clinging, pale green skirt and cream silk blouse that gave her a sexy, professional look.

He really didn’t want to stop. Well, he wanted to look, but he didn’t want a repeat of this morning. Still, his own sense of manners had him waiting for her to catch up to him. He must be a glutton for punishment.

She was breathless when she finally reached him, which of course brought out his inner Neanderthal because he couldn’t resist the sight of her heaving breasts. They were absolutely gorgeous. Full, and nicely showcased by her blouse. Just enough cleavage showed without making her appear slutty or undermining her professionalism. With a supreme force of will, he pulled his gaze away from her spectacular bosom and up to smirking green eyes.

‘Really? The once over?’ she said, but there was no heat in her voice, only that silky drawl that made him want her rubbing against him like a cat. His body certainly liked that idea and he had to put a major clampdown on the stirring in his groin.

‘You are
incredibly
gorgeous.’ He didn’t bother to hide his appreciation of her body which caught her off guard by the surprise that passed over her face at his words. ‘But you’re also dangerous for someone as tiny as you.’ He grinned and rubbed the spot on his chest where she’d pushed him.

A flush of embarrassment coloured her skin, tinting it a sweet shade of pink, before she replied in that smoky, Southern lilt, ‘I am so sorry about that. I don’t normally respond so aggressively to being startled. I don’t have an excuse, but I wanted to apologise.’

He grinned down at her, enjoying her obvious discomfort.

‘And why exactly did you grace me with such an enthusiastic response?’

She squirmed and looked away from him, gnawing on her lower lip. It was absolutely adorable and had him imagining much more explicit things she could be doing with those lips. They were as full and voluptuous as the rest of her and – get a grip on yourself, Connor! He forcefully brought himself back to the present.

‘You startled me, and I reacted instinctively. I apologise again.’

She looked up at him and saw his grin.

‘You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?’ She was clearly affronted but being a good sport.

‘Yes, yes I am.’ Again, he didn’t bother hiding. ‘You have a heavy hand, Miss …?’ The obvious question hung in the air.

‘Ross. Bridget Ross.’

She held out her hand to shake. It was tiny and delicate with perfectly manicured nails painted a deep shade of burgundy. His own hand engulfed hers and he liked the feel of her skin against his. So much so, he didn’t let go.

‘I’m Connor Reynolds, Bridget Ross.’ He grinned again as she tugged gently on her hand; only when she tugged harder did he let it go.

‘Well, Connor. I’d like to make it up to you, if you’d let me.’

He raised an eyebrow as he waited.

‘Would you let me buy you a cup of coffee?’

‘Coffee?’ He pretended a pout. ‘I’m going to be wearing a bruise for at least a week.’

She laughed at his obvious acting. It was a lovely sound, light and tinkling and made with her whole body. Not one of those weak, simpering laughs. This reached her eyes and made her face shine.

‘OK, how about coffee and a pastry of your choice? I have a bit of pull with the owner at Bean There Done That.’

‘Hmmm.’ He pretended to think it over when he already knew he was going to say yes. ‘OK, but it will have to be tomorrow. I have somewhere to be at the moment.’

‘Are you a photographer?’ She nodded in the direction of his equipment.

‘What I am is late.’ He dodged the question, but softened his words with a smile. ‘Is 11 a.m. good for you tomorrow?’

She shook her head saying, ‘I have a class at 11.30. How about after lunch, say 1 p.m.?’

‘One it is.’ He smiled again.

‘OK then, good.’ She smiled back and turned saying, ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

‘Yup.’ He waved as she moved off, taking a good, long look at her shapely ass which he’d admired so much that morning. His hand itched to cup it. He watched until she turned into the faculty parking lot before finally heading to the stadium to find Sam.

He didn’t even try to wipe the grin off his face.

Chapter Three

What in the hell had possessed her to ask him out for coffee? She’d only planned to apologise, not ask him out. She seemed to lose the ability to think straight when it came to that man.

Connor. She liked the name. It fit him. He looked like a Connor, like something straight out of one of those
Highlander
movies. His grey eyes had been laughing the whole time. What a smartass. She snorted at the memory, but found herself grinning just the same.

‘Something funny, Professor?’

Bridget snapped out of her thoughts as Skyler dropped her exam on Bridget’s desk. She looked up at her student and nodded.

‘Yeah. Well, to me anyway.’

She noted that the rest of the class was already gone. Skyler was always the last to turn in her exams. A brilliant student, she nevertheless agonised over tests. Many a time, Bridget had to remind her to relax and breathe. That she either knew it or she didn’t. She wasn’t going to learn it while taking the test.

Once, Bridget had found her sobbing over a B that she’d gotten on an exam. She’d refused to open up when questioned as to why this was an earth-shattering event, but Bridget had seen this type of thing before. Students who pushed themselves so hard for one reason or another, but who all had a common thread of feeling like they had something to prove, whether to a parent or friend.

‘How are you doing, Skyler?’ She worried about this one. She seemed very close to a breaking point some days.

‘I’m good, Professor. Never better.’ The words were bright but she didn’t meet Bridget’s eyes.

‘I’m always here if you want an ear, Skyler.’

Wary brown eyes met Bridget’s green ones.

‘What makes you think I need someone to talk to?’ Her entire body went rigid as she spoke. Her chin jutted up in the air and the muscles along her jaw stood out in stark relief as if her teeth were clenched.

‘Nothing in particular. You simply seem a bit more tense than usual. I’m just making myself available.’

Skyler visibly relaxed at those words, confirming Bridget’s suspicion that there really was something troubling her.

‘Everything’s OK, Professor. Promise.’ She threw a shaky grin at Bridget and, with a quick hitch of her shoulder to adjust her backpack, left the classroom, leaving Bridget alone once again to ponder her stupidity at arranging a date with Connor.

No, not a date. An apology. One that happened to involve coffee and pastry. She was a grown woman. And she didn’t pick up men, or chase men, or
anything
men any more. She’d had enough disastrous attempts to learn that it just wasn’t worth it.

She’d given up men and had even gotten past her reservations enough to have a vibrator. Well, more like Claire had made sure she got past her inhibitions and got a vibrator.

She smiled at the thought of the unusual friendship she’d struck up with Claire. They’d met through the romance book club sponsored by her now husband’s bookstore, Bibliophile. At the time, it had been Claire who’d been in need of a shoulder and some unfettered friendship. They’d become close, closer than Bridget had been with anyone in a very long time. She’d been happy to see Claire and Evan get past their respective baggage and find happiness with each other. A year later, they were solidly married and had a baby on the way.

Pain stole through Bridget at the thought of Claire’s unborn child. Oh, she was happy for her best friend. Ecstatic. She knew she was going to be the best damn godmother ever put on the face of this planet, but how she wished a baby was in the cards for her.

But, just as the deep, intimate relationship Claire had was not destined for her, neither was motherhood. For just a second, tears threatened, but she refused to give into them. Bridget Ross didn’t sit and wallow in self-pity. This was the hand she’d been dealt and she was going to make the best of it.

A glance at the delicate, pearl-encrusted watch that adorned her wrist told her it was time to get a move on if she was going to be on time for her meeting – not a date – with Connor.

Connor was early, but he didn’t mind. He’d been to the coffee shop before, but never hung out there. He’d always grabbed a cup of the daily brew and been on his way. He wasn’t a “hang out” kind of guy. He liked his solitude, and bustling coffee shops always made him feel conspicuous. But if this is where Bridget wanted to meet, then so be it. He was happy to put up with the crowd for a chance to be with her.

He passed the time by people-watching along the small main street that hosted River Rock’s downtown. He wasn’t being very successful at his usual game of creating instant back stories for the people he saw. His thoughts continued to stray back to Bridget.

She’d dominated his thoughts since their encounter on campus yesterday and not in an innocent way at all. He’d had some very, very vivid dreams of her, to the tune of waking up with a raging erection that he’d had to handle himself in the shower since she wasn’t there to sink into. It hadn’t been nearly as satisfying as he’d hoped, considering how his dick wanted to rise up every time he thought of her or how it just ignored him altogether at the sight of her. Even now he tingled when he spotted her coming towards him down the street. As they made eye contact, she smiled and raised a hand in greeting.

Those coppery waves hung down her back today and he bet they’d feel silky wrapped around his hand. She was dressed conservatively at first glance. Simply cut black trouser pants and an emerald green sleeveless top that clung to her body and showed off her toned arms. The clothes were elegant and smart, hugging her body in a way that drew your eye to every lush curve. She held herself with the grace of a dancer and moved with the same litheness.

He wanted her.

Wanted her on her knees in front of him, those lips wrapped around him and her green eyes locked with his. He wanted her bent over with that round ass turning pink under his hand as he plunged into her. He bet her nipples would be lovely, clamped in metal, swollen and red.

His cock stirred, and once again he resorted to reciting the great masters to get it to settle down. Thankfully, he got himself under control. Not an easy thing where Bridget was concerned. He wanted her in a way that he hadn’t wanted a woman in a very long time. His own proclivities made deep relationships few and far between. Few women could handle what Connor liked. After the last disaster, he’d stuck to the basics and kept his darker side hidden.

She made him want to swing the closet door open and shine the light on all the dark shadows inside. It wasn’t just her beauty; it was something behind her eyes. It hinted of depths that she kept hidden and it made him want to explore and expose them. Made him want to watch her gasp as he showed her the limits of her body and her pleasure.

She really needed to get a hold on herself. This was not even a date and it was certainly not something to be losing control over. But her traitorous body wasn’t listening to her at the moment. She didn’t even really know how to react to the fact that her nipples had gone hard and she’d grown damp when all he’d done was look in her direction and smile that crooked grin he seemed to always wear. She’d felt like lightning had struck right through her pelvis. She tingled in a way that reminded her she had to be careful and she willed her body into submission.

She’d never experienced reactions like this. After That Day, she’d thought she’d never respond physically to a man again. Certainly, the few relationships she’d had over the years hadn’t sparked this type of reaction in her. They’d been caring relationships that had ultimately ended disastrously for everyone because she’d tried to make lovers out of friends. Never once had she been honest with any of them about why she was so inhibited. The sex had been perfunctory and controlled. She’d made sure of it. She wouldn’t allow them to touch her in any way that might cause her to lose the strict control she maintained.

In the end, they all had the same complaint and she really couldn’t blame them. It probably wasn’t very fun when a woman wouldn’t allow you to do much more than stick it in and pump. They’d all called her frigid. Ice queen. Or, more colloquially, bitch.

She shook her head to clear it. No good came in dwelling on what couldn’t be changed.

Shaking off the shame that wanted to surge from dredging up the past, Bridget took a deep breath, mentally pulled up her big girl panties, and smiled in greeting. 

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