The pressure in my chest started to lift. He was right. Of course he was. “But I hate it.”
“I’m sure Michael Jordan hated missing game-winning shots.”
I didn’t say anything. I was new and inexperienced and I’d let it show.
“Harper, it’s why I wanted you to present to Goldman’s. I didn’t want you to choke in front of your father.”
Had he really been trying to protect me? Warmth for him spread through my body. I wasn’t used to someone having my back in such an obvious way. Not a man anyway. And I liked it. More than liked it.
I pulled my foot from his hands and moved to straddle him. “You always say exactly the right thing.”
He chuckled. “I think my daughter would disagree.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him briefly on his jaw. “You look sexy wet,” I said.
“You look sexy all the time,” he replied.
“Exactly the right thing,” I whispered and I pressed my lips to his. His tongue reached for mine.
He shifted, pushing me away. “Come on. Let’s get out. I want to fuck you without being interrupted by neighbors complaining about water coming through their ceiling.”
Well, I couldn’t argue with that logic, either.
He held me tight as he walked me out of the bathroom and pushed me onto the bed, collapsing beside me. He opened my towel as if inspecting me for clues, his eyes raking over my naked body. “You’re beautiful,” he said, squinting as he said it, as if he couldn’t quite believe it.
A rush of panic hit me in the chest as I pushed my fingers through his hair. I couldn’t imagine not having this, not having him, to talk to, to kiss, to fuck. What would I do when this was all over?
“I can’t wait for you to come to Connecticut,” he said. “I want to have you in my bed for a change.” He dipped his head and circled one of my nipples with his tongue.
The pulling sensation in my stomach chased away the panic and I shifted my hips sideways, tangling my legs with his. His towel had fallen open and I reached for his hard, heavy cock. I shivered as I began to pump my fist up and down. He hissed through his teeth, throwing his head back.
“I’ve been thinking about having your hands wrapped around my dick all day,” he said. “You’re so utterly distracting.”
“And infuriating, remember?”
He reached for my pussy, and I flicked my hips up to meet his fingers, always eager for his touch. “That’s part of the distraction, part of the attraction.” His fingers dipped inside me, his thumb pressing against my clitoris, the frustration and embarrassment of the day dissolving under his touch.
“Do you think about me?” he asked, slowly thrusting into my hands. “You think about this?” He grazed my shoulder with his teeth, then bit down, causing me to moan.
“All the time.” It was true. The only way I survived in the office was by avoiding him, but that was like trying to avoid gravity. My pull toward him was inevitable.
I released his dick and he began to slide it over my sex, teasing, promising. I reached behind me for the nightstand, but he took over my search for a condom.
“I’ve got to be inside you right now,” he whispered. “I’ve been wanting you all day.” He paused in his rhythm and I whimpered. “I know, Harper, I need it, too.”
I’d never been so sexually vulnerable with a man, never offered up so much of myself. But with him it wasn’t a choice; it was mandatory. There was no other way I could be.
He slipped his palms under my ass and pulled me toward him as he sat back onto his knees, the warmth of his eyes replacing his body heat.
His gaze bore into me as he thrust. He didn’t take his time, but he didn’t rush, either, just moved into me with a strong, confident force that nearly had me climaxing—the feeling of being totally consumed by him mentally and physically pushing me to the brink, threatening to tip me over the edge.
“Max,” I called out.
“I’m here. I’m fucking you, needing you, owning you.”
He was right. He did own me.
I lifted my knees and he growled, “I’m going to fuck you over my desk one day while you look out over Manhattan, your skirt around your waist, your ass in the air.” He thrust again. “I want you in my bed in Connecticut, on the stairs, against the lobby wall of this apartment. I want you in every cab we ever share together. I’ve never wanted anyone like this.”
His words drifted over me like sunshine, heating my skin, ridding my brain of shadows.
I wanted him so badly it was almost terrifying. Before fear could take hold, pleasure pushed out from my belly and down my limbs. “Max,” I whispered, my fingernails digging into his skin.