After Betrayal - I Married a Handsome Tycoon-Chapter 27: Eat, or Eat

It had only been a day, but Moira Sloan thought Connor Quinn’s kissing skills had improved by leaps and bounds.

He invaded forcefully, but after breaching her defenses, he became tender and lingering. He toyed with her tongue, a deliberate caress meant to awaken her most primitive desires...

Before long, the kiss had Moira Sloan’s eyes narrowing in pleasure.

Connor Quinn’s lips brushed against her cheek, traveling to her ear. His voice was low and deep as he asked, "Is this a good time?"

Moira Sloan turned her head to meet his gaze. The corners of her lips curled up, but she said nothing, her expression like someone observing a supplicant.

That look in her eyes made Connor Quinn’s gaze darken. Suddenly, he remembered what she called him when talking to her friend.

’Her wild man.’

’He didn’t even count as someone she was officially dating.’

’At best, he was just a secret.’

Connor Quinn’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He lowered his head and kissed her again, but this time there was no gentleness. He bit down on her lower lip, hard.

Moira Sloan was melting into the moment, and the sudden jolt of pain sent a shiver through her.

It wasn’t very painful.

More like a rough texture kneaded into an otherwise plush comfort.

’Honestly, it was thrilling.’

Just as the sparks between them were about to erupt into a wildfire, the phone in Moira Sloan’s left hand suddenly rang out.

"Moira, did you hear a word I said?"

Moira Sloan, "..."

Connor Quinn, "..."

’What had she said?’

’Moira hadn’t heard a single word.’

When Flora Rhodes finished speaking and still got no reply from Moira Sloan, she muttered to herself on the other end of the line, "’Bad signal?’"

With that, Flora Rhodes hung up with a decisive CLICK.

The moment of peak passion was shattered, like a bucket of cold water doused on a raging fire.

The afterglow remained, but the magic of the moment was gone.

Moira Sloan didn’t want to force it. She wriggled out of Connor Quinn’s embrace, leaned back against the sofa, and asked in a deliberately spoiled tone, "Is dinner ready?"

Connor Quinn was wound tight, forcing himself to stay in control. "Yes," he grunted.

Moira Sloan deliberately ignored the blatant evidence of his arousal. She shifted away from him, delicately plucked a strawberry, and took a bite. The sweet juice glistened on her lips...

Connor Quinn’s gaze darkened as he watched. A few seconds later, he turned and disappeared into the kitchen.

As Connor Quinn left, Moira Sloan glanced up at his retreating back. A corner of her mouth quirked, and she let out a soft "Tsk."

She was thirty years old and had heard far too many female friends complain about boyfriends who, when they were that worked up, would just force the issue. The more you said no, the more excited they got.

Because they believed that when a woman said "no," she really meant "yes."

She had no idea where that ridiculous notion came from.

Compared to her friends’ boyfriends, Moira Sloan suddenly thought, ’Connor Quinn... hmm... he’s actually not bad. At least, not in this respect.’

Just as Moira Sloan was thinking this, the phone beside her hand vibrated.

She glanced down. A new message had popped up on the screen.

[Flora Rhodes: Tsk, tsk, tsk. I heard everything, you know.]

Moira Sloan didn’t reach for the phone. She leaned back languidly, strawberry still in one hand. With the fingertips of her other hand, she unlocked the screen, opened the chat, and typed: Heard what?

[Flora Rhodes: That guy must be intense.]

[Moira Sloan: ?]

[Flora Rhodes: Moira, you said nothing ever happened between you and Shane Jennings after all that time together. So, is this a sudden sexual awakening? Or are you just acting out because of the breakup?]

[Moira Sloan: Ridiculous.]

After sending the text to Flora Rhodes, Moira Sloan looked up to see Connor Quinn bringing out the food. She stood up and walked over to the dining table.

She never cooked in her apartment, but with him bustling around, the place suddenly had a warm, homey feel.

As Moira Sloan approached, Connor Quinn was just setting down the last dish.

Moira Sloan rested her fingertips on the dining table and leaned over to inspect the food. She was just about to comment on how good everything looked when a scorching hot body pressed against her from behind.

A large hand immediately snaked around her slender waist, pulling her back until she was flush against him, a perfect fit. The man’s husky voice rumbled from above her head. "Are you going to eat first, or am I?"