Susan’s words had been his constant companions since their talk. Wrapping his arm around Harper’s waist, he pulled her back tightly against him, as he wondered for the hundredth time: Could she handle what was in his heart? Or would it send her running?
Rich men in fast cars, the teenager who’d run her brother down, the wealthy father who’d bailed him out—Will knew he embodied all Harper’s fears and he instinctively stiffened at the thought of losing her.
“Will?” She turned slightly to look up at him again, her eyes meeting his. “Is everything okay?”
He brushed her hair aside to plant a kiss on the sensitive skin of her neck. “You’re here.” He sucked her skin, leaving his mark on her, then moved up to her ear, a sweet little hot spot, and nibbled. “Everything is amazing.”
“You make me totally crazy when you do that.” She twirled and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You’re such a tease.”
He wanted to tease her right up to heaven, wanted to give her so much pleasure that she’d never, ever think about leaving him. “The word tease implies no follow-through. And believe me, I intend to follow through.” He kissed her lightly. “All—” Kiss. “—night—” Kiss. “—long.” Then he parted her lips and took her mouth, hot need spiking through him. “You’re absolutely perfect.”
“So are you.”
But he wasn’t.
Not even close.
* * *
Harper was dying for him to tear off her clothes, throw her down on the carpet, and take her right in front of the window.
That was how he always made her feel—totally wild, crazy, and out of control. But this was going to be a night for firsts: the first time in his bed, the first time with him completely naked, the first time she’d have him all night long and wake up beside him in the morning.
They’d rushed everything else, but she couldn’t bear to rush this.
Even if it killed her.
And yet, when she looked into his eyes, she saw shadows. The same shadows that had been there moments before when his whole body had tensed against her back.
“Will.” She reached for his cheek. “If something’s wrong—”
“No.” The word sounded choked. “Nothing’s wrong when you’re here. Nothing’s wrong when you’re with me.” But there was a storm in his eyes. “Let me love you, Harper. Please, just let me love you.”
His words rippled over her, through her, tugging at her heart. So even though she knew this was just supposed to be for fun, how could she say anything but, “Love me, Will.”
The next thing she knew, he tugged her dress off her shoulder and traced a finger down until it rested against her breast. Slowly pulling the material aside, he revealed the lace of her black bra. Slowly, so slowly that she nearly went crazy, he pulled the cup down until her aroused flesh finally popped free.
“Delicious,” he whispered before he bent his head.
His thick, soft hair caressed her skin, and his tongue devastated her. She held him tight as he licked her, then closed his lips around the peak and sucked.
All her electrons were firing like crazy when he raised his head and said, “More.”
He always wanted more from her. And she always gave it to him.
When she whispered “More,” he splayed a hand across her back and turned her insides to liquid with his lips and tongue.
Then his teeth scraped across her, like a live wire straight to her center. Her body shuddered, and she clung to him, gasping, writhing. It wasn’t an orgasm, but a deep, needy quaking that made her moan, clutch him tight…and beg.
“Please.”
“Whatever you want.”
“I want you naked.” Her need whispered out on a breath. “I want to see all of you.”
He was always the one taking her clothes off. But she couldn’t wait any longer to see every inch of that gloriously hard flesh.
She expected his usual grin, but just that quickly, the storm was back in his eyes as he suddenly lifted her in his arms to carry her through the dark living room. There was no hall, just a doorway off the central area. In his bedroom, city lights illuminated a four-foot rectangle in front of the window, hiding the rest in darkness. He walked unerringly to the bed and laid her down gently.
They’d been in the dark since they’d entered his apartment, but that wasn’t enough for her anymore. “I need light,” she said, “or I won’t be able to see you.” And she had to see.
He paused for a long moment, his face still grim in the shadows, before finally flicking a light switch. The lamp lit the bed, his scrumptious black tux, white shirt, and lightly mussed hair.
A dark wood bureau matched the nightstands and headboard. White tile glinted through the bathroom doorway, and a big jet tub two steps up lay just beyond in the shadows. His personal space was expensively furnished with a fabulous view and probably cost a fortune—he even had his own elevator, for goodness sake—but while it was rich, there was nothing that shouted Will’s ownership.
Instead, it looked almost lonely.
He advanced on her. “You have on too many clothes.”
He was still minus his usual grin, but the sensuality in his tone made her forget all about the room and its lack of a personal touch. There was only the huge bed and the gorgeous apartment.
And Will.
“So do you,” she agreed. And this was her turn. All the other times, he’d managed to keep even his shirt on. “I want to see you, the way you’ve seen me,” she insisted, her pulse throbbing.
He moved away from her then to snap the blinds closed, so that it was just them—no people on the street far below, no cars honking. And when he turned back to face her, she realized he’d never looked at her with such raw hunger...or such deep, tormented emotion.
“I’m all yours, Harper.”
All hers.
At least for tonight.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Harper rose slowly, shrugging the shoulders of her dress up and letting it fall back into place. For once, she was going to keep her dress intact while Will was the one exposed.
“Shoes first,” she directed.
He quickly toed them off and kicked them away.
She stepped close, talking as she undid his jacket. “I love your tux.” She loved him in the tux.
Walking around him, she slipped her fingers inside the front lapels and pulled the jacket down his arms. She folded it, laying it across a chair in the corner. Even from this angle, he was strong, muscled. She trailed a hand across his back as she circled him once more. “I’ve never tied a bow tie.”
“All you need to know is how to untie it.”
She slipped the knot, smiling as she noted, “No cummerbund.”
“I thought that would make it easier when you undressed me.”
She tsked. “You didn’t know I was going to undress you.”
“Yes, I did.” His eyes were hot.
Of course he did. Because she’d never been able to resist him, had she? But there was no time—and no need—to beat herself up about that now. Not when he was still waiting for her to undress him. And she was dying to see every last gorgeous, naked inch of him.
She cocked her head. “Hmm. Cufflinks first? Or shirt buttons?” She put a finger to her lips. He’d kissed her hard and deep, but the lipstick was long-lasting and wouldn’t smudge. She liked the idea of her lipstick against his—
“Shirt buttons,” he decided for her.
“Definitely.” She wanted to feel his skin, the sooner the better.
She pulled the shirt from his waistband and slowly unbuttoned it, her fingers caressing his flesh. The dusting of hair on his chest was soft, silky. She trailed down, and when she looked up, he was anything but unaffected. A pulse beat at his throat, and his gaze seared her. She loved the power his eyes gave her, how potent he made her feel. She pushed his shirt aside and slicked her tongue over him, eliciting another telltale quiver.
“You like?”
“You make me crazy, I like it so much.” Need turned his voice harsh.
She wanted to go straight for his belt, to see what she could only feel right now. To touch. And taste. But this was a strip tease, for both their pleasure.
Running one hand down his arm, she flicked the cufflink at his wrist and pulled it free. She did the same with the other, loving the soft plop as they hit the carpet. More touching, teasing, her hands on his skin as she walked her fingers up, to the top of the shirt, over his shoulders beneath the cotton, then down his strong arms. She let the shirt billow to his feet.
“You’re beautiful.” She stepped back to absorb him and couldn’t resist touching. Muscled shoulders down to pectorals and tapering into washboard abs. “And you’ve got a tattoo.”
His biceps hardened as she traced the ink’s contours. A muscle car. And over it, the stylized phrase, Road Warriors.
“Very sexy. Like Sons of Anarchy or something.”
He clenched his teeth and hissed in a breath. Then he said, “Or something.”
“Was it a club you belonged to?”
Two long beats of silence. “Yeah.”
“You’re a bad boy.” One who made her weak in the knees every single time he kissed her. “And you know how women feel about bad boys,” she teased.