Conall’s hand tightened on her waist and her muscles began to tighten around him.

“Conall.” She always said his name when he was inside of her. Always.

“Come for me, Miki-baby.” He coaxed her with that rough voice of his. “Come for me.”

And she did. Another one of her screaming orgasms only Conall seemed to have the ability to force out of her. She rode that feeling, Conall following right behind her.

They collapsed on top of the dresser, their harsh breathing filling the room.

“So,” Miki reached back and patted that amazing ass of his. “How’s Zach doing?”

Conall gently wrapped his big arms around her and hugged her close. “Evil bitch.”

Chapter Seventeen

Miki opened her eyes and for a minute wondered where she was. Hotel rooms, with their big heavy curtains, were always a little too dark for her. But then she felt Conall’s big arm wrapped around her, pulling her close into his even bigger chest.

She relaxed and glanced at the clock. Seven a.m. She’d actually slept six hours. Two days in a row she’d slept longer than three or four hours. Of course, Conall kept wearing her out. Really wearing her out.

Was it supposed to be like this? He should’ve gotten bored by now. Started ignoring her. Plotted a way out that wouldn’t involve getting his ass kicked by Sara. She thought they’d started down that road the day before. He’d been watching television while she worked on her computer. He’d been quiet for almost an hour and she found herself debating whether he was ignoring her or giving her space to study. On a whim, she muttered something about not finishing what they’d started against the wall in the first hotel room he had. Before she knew it, he had her pinned against the wall like a butterfly in a display. After that it continued for hours. Against the wall. Against the desk. Face down on the bed. Pushed over the bathroom sink. Bent over a chair. She was pretty sure there wasn’t a stick of furniture in the room her ass hadn’t been on.

She was so confused. He was confusing her and she didn’t know what the hell she was doing. This was not her terrain. Sara and Angelina handled the social stuff and Miki made sure they passed calculus class and didn’t get kidnapped by bikers.

But now it was getting harder and harder to separate her body from her heart. Even though she continued to promise herself she wouldn’t go down that road. But she made the mistake of listening to those two crazy bitches. What the hell had she been thinking? She knew better. Did she learn nothing from the ninth grade lip-gloss and bloodletting incident?

Yet, she wouldn’t trade the last few days she’d spent with Conall for anything in the world. He’d taught her sex was fun, pleasurable and freakin’ amazing.

Just thinking about him inside of her made herwant to turn over and grab that big cock of his. But then she remembered what she had to do in just a few hours. Get up in front of a bunch of uptight professors who barely tolerated her, wearing a suit she hated, defending a thesis she wasn’t sure she believed anymore. And how the hell could she defend something she didn’t believe in? Unlike Craig’s work, her thesis relied on theory as opposed to hard facts from her own lab work. Who the hell would approve that?

Choking panic began to weigh her down, but she shook it off. She had to get her shit together. She had lists to write. She slipped out from under Conall’s arm, found her notes, and sat down to obsess over her future for the next eight-and-a-half hours.

She thought she was being quiet, but thirty minutes into her obsessing Conall woke up. He looked at her with that one eye thing he did first thing in the morning and sighed.

“You’re obsessing, aren’t you?” Because he’d just woken up, his grumbling voice was even more so. The sound made her wet in seconds. She shook her head and went back to her notebook. She didn’t have time for this.

“It’s what I’m good at.”

Conall stood up, gloriously naked, and walked into the bathroom. He closed the door behind him and, within seconds, Miki heard water running. It was her turn to sigh. Let the ignoring begin!

She went back to her notes and was halfway down the page when Conall walked back out of the bathroom and straight over to her. He reached down, took the notebook out of her hand and pulled the T-shirt she had on over her head. He tossed it aside, then picked her up and took her with him into the bathroom.

“What the hell are you doing?”

He closed the door with his foot, and took her to the huge marble tub. The room was steamy from the hot water, the tub filled with bubbles. He sunk them both in and relaxed back. Christ, he hadn’t stormed out of the room to get away from her. He’d gone off to make her a bubble bath.

“Conall?”

“Miki?”

“I should be preparing. Or panicking. Or both. Probably both.”

“Forget panic. It’s a waste of energy. And prepare what exactly? You’ve got a freakin’ photographic memory, Mik. You’re telling me you don’t already know each and every detail from your thesis, your textbooks, and your notes?”

Bastard. “Okay. You’ve got a point, but—”

“No buts. You’re going to relax if it kills us both.”

“Relax? How am I supposed to relax?”

Conall pulled her close and began to kiss her neck, his hands sliding over her body.

“You didn’t answer my question, Viking.”

“Yes, I did,” he muttered against her neck.