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Seduced *

Warning: The following story contains mature themes and is not suitable for younger readers.

Aimee closed her eyes, momentarily forgetting the open book she still held in her hands. Yet again her thoughts had returned to Connor. She wasn’t quite sure how he’d managed to find his way into her innermost thoughts, but somehow, over the last few days, he had done it. It wasn’t like she had never thought of him before, but he had always taken a backseat when it came to her books. Nothing had ever managed to distract her from her reading before now, and she longed to go back to that. She needed the escape her books provided more than ever but it no longer worked. Glancing back at the book, Aimee blindly read a few more lines, seeing only what was in her mind… Connor.

It was a week since she’d last seen him, but she’d been replaying their meeting over and over in her mind ever since. She’d known Connor as long as she could remember, and they’d always been close. But she’d never seen him as more than a friend until recently. Secretly she’d had a crush on him for the past six months. Not even her closest friends knew about it and she intended for it to stay that way. Only she’d slipped up. The previous weekend, as usual, she’d met up with a group of friends at her local pub. Connor had arrived late, having spent most of the day, as well as the earlier part of the evening, celebrating his friend’s 21st birthday on the other side of London. By the time he’d showed up, half an hour before last orders, Aimee was very drunk. Having promptly melted the moment Connor had slid onto the barstool beside hers, she had spent the rest of the evening flirting shamelessly with him. Then he’d offered to walk her home and instantly she’d jumped at the offer.

When they had arrived back at her flat she’d invited him up for coffee and to her surprise, he’d accepted. But she'd never gotten as far as the kitchen. When they’d walked through the door into her living room, Aimee had tripped on her careless roommates handbag and gone flying into Connor’s hard, broad chest. Her gaze had travelled up his body, to his face, pausing on his perfectly shaped lips, until finally her eyes had reached his. He was looking down at her, his eyes glazed with desire. Curling her fingers into his soft leather jacket she’d pressed her body against his, reaching up to brush her lips against his. For a second she’d thought he was going to pull away, then he’d crushed his mouth against hers, pushing her back on the sofa. Tangling her fingers in his hair she’d arched into him as his hands slid under her top, cupping her lace-clad breasts, whilst his mouth continued to make love to hers. Then her flat mate, Jen, had walked in on them and Connor had been gone in seconds. He hadn’t spoken to her since. Thinking back, she’d realised the glazed look in his eyes had probably had more to do with alcohol than desire.

Finally giving up on her book, she guessed it was probably time to start getting ready for the evening ahead. She still had hours before she was due to meet her friends. But she still didn’t know if Connor would be there and just in case he was, she had to look her best. Going over to her cupboard she rooted through her clothes looking for the perfect outfit. Pulling out a slightly see-through black shirt with a slight shine to it, she eyed it critically. If she wore it with jeans it wouldn’t look too over the top, but it was still subtly sexy. Pulling out her favourite pair of skintight jeans she tried on the ensemble. Frowning at her reflection, she looked through her cupboard again, pulling out clothes at random. An hour later, her room looked as if a tornado had hit, but she had the perfect outfit. Eyeing her reflection, she undid another button of her see-through shirt before looping a diamante belt through her jeans. Brushing aside a couple of skirts, she sat at her dressing table to apply her make-up. Another crisis arose when she couldn’t find her lucky earrings, but finally she located them in a drawer. And then she was ready, and only 10 minutes late.

When she walked into the pub quarter of an hour later, the first person she saw was Connor. He was leaning against the bar talking to a petite redhead dressed in a miniscule white dress that looked totally out of place, yet caught the attention of every male in the room. As Aimee watched, Connor leaned across and whispered something in her ear that made her laugh. Feeling slightly sick, Aimee would have turned to leave if her friends hadn’t spotted her at that exact moment and motioned for her to join them. Averting her eyes, Aimee joined them, studiously ignoring Connor and tonight’s conquest. And it would have worked too if a moment later Connor hadn’t tapped her on the shoulder and introduced “Candi”. It turned out the woman, who Aimee already hated on principle, had known Connor at Uni, and wasn’t it a coincidence that she’d run in to him? Everyone at the table, especially the men, had instantly become completely smitten with “Sweet little Candi”, but Aimee wasn’t fooled by the act. She’d met women like Candi before and they always aimed to get everyone wrapped around their petite little fingers. And this one was after Connor. Suddenly feeling nauseous again, Aimee excused herself, seeking the relative comfort of the lady’s room.

Staring at her reflection over the sink, Aimee carefully re-applied her lip-gloss, taking several deep breaths to clear her pounding head. Finally she regained a weak hold on her emotions and forced herself to leave the sanctuary of the lady’s. Instantly she wished she hadn’t as she found herself face to chest with Connor. Looking up into his eyes, Aimee caught that same glazed look he’d had the last time she’d been this close to him. But before she could examine it further he was pushing her back against the wall, his lips pressed hungrily against hers. Wrapping her arms around his neck she tangled her fingers in his soft, blond hair, holding him close.
“Connor…” She murmured against his lips as he started to draw away.
For a moment he looked down at her, his blue eyes dark with desire, and then he pulled away completely, turning away and vanishing around the corner before Aimee could even draw a somewhat shaky breath. At least she knew what that glazed look meant. She’d smelt the alcohol on his breath, tasted it on his lips. Connor was drunk, plain and simple. When she emerged a moment later, a quick glance around told her that Connor had gone, and so had Candi. Going back to her friends’ table, she picked up her drink and drained half of it in one go.

Aimee left early, pleading a headache to her friends. She’d spent all evening drowning her sorrows in alcohol, yet still she hadn’t been able to get Connor out of her mind. All she could think about was the feel of his lips on hers, how much she wanted to kiss him again, and how “sweet little Candi” was probably doing just that and more. Making her way out into the cool night air, Aimee crossed her arms over her chest for warmth, wishing she’d thought to bring a jacket. It was only then that she noticed the shadowed figure leaning against a nearby wall. For a moment she hesitated, then the figure stepped into the light of a streetlight and his features came into focus. Conner. And he was clearly alone.
“Want some company?” He asked gruffly.
Aimee desperately wanted to tell him she didn’t, to salvage some of her pride and tell him to get lost. But she wanted him so much, and besides, if he was with her, he wasn’t with some dumb redhead.
“OK.” She said softly, letting him fall into step beside her.
Watching him out the corner of her eye, she desperately wanted to ask what he’d been up to, and what had happened to Candi, she just wasn’t so sure she’d like the answer. But when he caught her staring a second later, she had to say something.
“Where’s Candi?” Blunt, but to the point.
“At her flat. She passed out before anything could happen.” He said without emotion.
“Oh.” For the life of her she couldn’t think what else to say.
“You cold?” He asked a moment later when she shivered.
At her nod he slipped out of his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. Pushing her arms through the sleeves she inhaled deeply, loving the scent of worn leather mixed with Connor’s aftershave that clung to the collar. Wearing his jacket was the next best thing to being held by him, she thought dreamily as they walked the rest of the way back to her flat.

When they arrived back at her apartment, Aimee unlocked the door and without giving herself a chance to think, she pulled Connor inside with her. Pausing only to toss his jacket in the vague direction of the sofa, she dragged him into her bedroom, closing and locking the door behind them. This time she wasn’t going to risk Jen walking in on them, even though her roommate was likely to be out for hours. All Aimee’s thoughts were intent on seduction as she pushed Connor back onto her bed. His eyes held the same glazed expression that she’d come to recognize. She knew he was drunk, probably more than her, but he wasn’t stopping her. Taking this as encouragement enough, she pressed her lips to his, as her hands fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. The feel of her lips on his seemed to bring him back to life and suddenly he was giving as good as he was getting. Tearing at her clothes he undressed her as fast as humanly possible, pausing only to help her get himself free of his own clothes. Finally they tumbled back against the pillows; their bodies entwined together, lips caught in a passionate kiss. Pulling back, Aimee let her hands explore his body. He was beautiful. His skin was dark gold from the long summer and his hard body felt fantastic beneath her touch. Following the path of her hands with her lips she heard Connor’s soft groan and couldn’t help but revel in the effect she was having on him. Finding his lips once more, she kissed him slowly, caressing his lips with her tongue then plunging inside his mouth to taste him properly. His hand gripped her waist, pulling her against him as his other hand moved over her body stroking and massaging until she was almost crying out in pleasure. Willingly, Aimee let him take control and closed her eyes as the sensations washed over her. She was so close to heaven she could almost reach out and touch it.

Opening her eyes again, she was struck by the reality of the situation, by what was going to happen... finally. Suddenly desperate, praying he wouldn’t back out at the last minute, she dragged Connor’s mouth up to hers, kissing him fervently. She needed to feel him inside her, and as if sensing her silent plea, Connor rolled off her and reached for one of the foil packets she kept in her drawer. Quickly sheathing himself, he moved back between her legs, his eyes locking with hers as if asking her permission to continue, though they both knew they had passed the point of no return.
“Tell me you want me…” She whispered suddenly, “Lie to me, please, just tell me…”
“I want you.”
The simple declaration was all she needed to hear, even if it wasn’t how he really felt. And then he was inside her, driving her over the edge of her own passion.

The following morning, Aimee woke cold and alone. Her head was pounding and she couldn’t be sure last night hadn’t all been a dream, though deep down she knew it had all been real. When she finally dragged herself out of bed in search of some painkillers, she searched the apartment for a note; anything to tell her last night had been as good for him as it had for her. It was only on her second search that she came across Connor’s jacket, half draped over the back of the sofa. The sight of it drummed home to her heart the truth of the matter. Last night had really happened, but so had this morning. Connor didn’t want her. It had all been a lie, and she’d let herself believe it because she wanted so badly for it to be true. But she was sure to him that all it had been was a drunken fumble. Closing her eyes against the tears, she collapsed on the sofa, hugging his jacket to her chest. Last night had been the most amazing experience of her life. Making love to Connor had felt so right. And that’s what it had been. Love. She loved him. Somehow without her even realising it, her feelings had transformed from lust to love. And it hurt like hell.

That evening, Aimee was curled up on the sofa, in Connor’s jacket, watching TV. Jen still wasn’t home from her night out the previous evening and as a result Aimee was feeling even more sorry for herself. When the doorbell rang, she assumed it was Jen, who made a habit of forgetting her keys, but when she opened the door she found Connor on the other side.
“I was wondering if you’d seen my… Damn you look sexy in my jacket.” He half growled as he pulled her against him, crushing her mouth beneath his.
His eyes were dark with desire as he looked at her, and that was all it could be. Connor wasn’t drunk. He was intoxicated, but not with alcohol. It was desire that had made his eyes so dark blue they were almost navy, desire for her. They never got as far as the bedroom. Pressing her up against the door, Connor didn’t even bother with their clothes, removing just enough to grant him access. Wrapping her legs around his waist, Aimee leant back against the door as he drove into her again and again, until he pushed them both over the edge.
“And I thought you’d just come for your jacket…” She whispered when she’d finally caught her breath.
Connor looked as though he were in a trance but her words brought him back to earth.
“Aimee, I… that shouldn’t have happened.” He pulled back, adjusting his clothes. “Maybe I should go…”
He ran a hand through his hair, his face the image of regret. He didn’t even look at her as she handed him the jacket.
“I’ll call you.” He mumbled, before pulling open the door and vanishing down the corridor.

Three days later she was still waiting for his call. Countless times she’d picked up the phone to call him, but she never got past the first few digits. She knew he was avoiding her. No one had seen him since the weekend. He hadn’t even turned up to Jen’s 22nd birthday party, having called a mutual friend to say he was sick. She might have believed him if she hadn’t found out he’d spent the day with another friend, who’d told her Connor was perfectly fine. The party had been a success despite Aimee’s rotten mood. It hadn’t been a major affair, but she’d spent the afternoon helping Jen set out drinks and snacks for the guest and she’d even put up a few streamers and balloons when Jen had gone off to get ready. It was only when Aimee went to get ready herself that she realised it was the first time in weeks that she’d spent more than five minutes in her flatmate’s company. Jen seemed to spend more time away from home than in it at the moment, but she was keeping the reasons firmly under wraps. The party had consisted of their usual group, minus Connor, and by nine thirty everyone had arrived. Then, just after ten a stranger had turned up at the door, asking for Jen. After Aimee had gotten over her initial disappointment that the new arrival hadn’t been Connor, she had managed to locate Jen fixing her make-up in her bedroom. The reason for Jen’s increased absence over the past weeks had become apparent as soon as she’d laid eyes on the tall, dark-haired man leaning against the wall just inside the door. Her had eyes lit up before she’d run across the room and straight into his arms. Later Jen had introduced him as Simon, her new boyfriend. Aimee couldn’t help but be happy for her friend, but she knew there was still a small part of her that resented Jen for what she’d found with Simon. She couldn’t believe how much she missed Connor, and seeing all of her friends without him, drove home how much a part of her life he was, how much he meant to her. It was driving her crazy waiting for him to call, but she wasn’t sure if he ever would. And though she desperately wanted to talk to him, she was terrified of what he might say when, if she eventually spoke to him. The rest of the week passed in a blur. Every minute of her spare time seemed to be spent waiting hopelessly by the phone.

On Saturday night, it took all of Jen’s skills of persuasion to talk Aimee into going to the pub. But all the hours Jen had spent talking her round, and then helping her to get ready were proved pointless when Connor never showed. Unable to face trying to fake a good mood, Aimee told everyone she was tired and left. By the time she got back to her flat, she was shivering from the cold and her fingers had started to go numb. When she reached into her bag for her keys, it took her much longer than usual to fish them out. Just as she was about to push the key into the lock, a noise from across the street made her jump and drop her keys. Cursing softly, she knelt down to retrieve them, she shivered again, more violently, as she stood, trying to keep her hand steady long enough to get the key in the lock.
“Here, let me.” A familiar voice said from behind her.
Spinning around, she found herself face to face with Connor. Her surprise rendered her speechless as he draped his jacket over her frozen shoulders and, taking the key from her hand, unlocked the door. Pulling the jacket tight around her, Aimee could do little else but follow Connor down the corridor to her apartment and in through the door.

When they got inside her warm apartment, Aimee reluctantly handed Connor’s jacket back to him before sitting down on the edge of the sofa.
“What are you doing here?” She said at last, not quite able to meet his eyes.
“I wanted to see you, no I needed to…” He sat beside her. “I’m sorry I didn’t call.”
“It’s OK.” She mumbled, still avoiding his probing gaze.
“No it’s not.” He cupped her face, tilting her chin up so she would look at him. “You deserve better than that. We’re friends, I should’ve acted like one.”
“Really, it’s OK.” Aimee whispered, his touch driving her crazy, yet when he dropped his hand she almost whimpered.
For a moment they sat in silence, both of them lost in thought.
“You know, I had a really good time with you last weekend.” Connor said finally, breaking the silence.
“Me too…” She blushed, hoping it wasn’t too obvious how badly she wished it could happen again.
“Aimee…” He stroked his thumb over her full lower lip.
“Kiss me.” Her gentle plea was barely audible, but Connor’s attention had been focussed solely on her mouth and he saw, rather than heard her words.
Then his mouth was on hers, his arms around her, holding her close. Opening her mouth to his probing tongue, she slid her arms around his neck, weaving her fingers through his hair.
“Are you sure?” He asked breathlessly, as he pulled away slightly.
Aimee nodded, her eyes locked with his.
“Don’t stop.” She pleaded.
Pulling her close once more, he trailed a line of kisses down her neck, making her sigh in pleasure.
“Connor, lie to me…” She couldn’t help the need to hear the words, “Tell me you want me…”
“I can’t lie to you anymore…” He groaned, pushing his tongue between her parted lips, and kissing her fervently, “I want you Aimee, god I want you”.

Not letting herself think too deeply about his words, Aimee stood, leading Connor to her bedroom and locking the door behind them. She followed him across the room till she was beside her bed, then allowed herself to be pulled into his arms. As his lips descended to hers, she lifted her arms up around his neck, pressing her body against his. Sinking down onto the bed, Aimee pulled Connor down on top of her, refusing to let his lips part from hers, even for a moment. She could have stayed like that forever, but at the same time she wanted, craved more of him. And as if reading her thoughts he gave it to her. Pulling back, he sat up, pulling her with him so he could remove her top and her pale pink satin bra. Letting her head drop back against the pillows, Aimee watched him as he pulled his t-shirt over his head, then let his eyes rove over her body, eventually coming to rest on her face. His eyes were dark with desire, his lips moist as he lay down beside her, taking her mouth with his. She hardly noticed when he removed her jeans and underwear, then his own; her mind was too focussed on the feel of her aching breasts pressed against the roughness of his hard, naked chest. His erection pressed against her stomach, as his fingers traced the contours of her body, exploring every inch of her. Languidly he kissed his way down her neck, following the path his hands had taken a moment before. Not sure she could stand anymore of this exquisite form of torture, yet never wanting it to end, Aimee gasped and writhed beneath Connor’s skilled hands. When his fingers found the moist heat between her legs she couldn’t help but cry out. Wanting desperately to make him feel the way she did, she curled her fingers around his length, stroking and caressing him until he stopped her with his hand over hers. Knowing neither of them could hold out any longer, Connor protected them both before finally pushing deep inside her, making slow love to her, drawing out every sensation, until she cried out her release. A moment later his own climax left him breathless.

For a long time afterwards they lay silent in each other’s arms, enjoying the feel of their bodies entwined together.
“You know, I came here intent on seducing you.” Connor said ruefully, finally breaking the silence.
“Well it worked!” She grinned up at him, stroking his hair back from his face.
“Aimee,” He said, suddenly serious, “I meant what I said before…”
“About what?” She whispered, hardly daring to hope.
“About wanting you. Only it’s more than that… I don’t think I truly realised it until I saw you shivering on your doorstep.” He smiled slightly, looking deep into her eyes.
Lowering his lips to hers he kissed her tenderly, holding her close. And she couldn’t help but wrap her arms tight around his neck, urging him to deepen the kiss. Finally he pulled away, looking deep into her eyes, as if searching for some hidden secret.
“I love you Aimee.” He said simply.
“Connor…” She started, but he stopped her with a kiss.
“You don’t have to say it back, just because I said it.”
“I’m not.” She said gently. “I love you Connor.”
Then his lips were on hers, his tongue gently probing the soft warmth of her mouth over and over again.

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