Harlequin Dare May 2021 Box Set

by Jackie Ashenden

  Shit.

  “You weren’t here earlier because you want a tattoo,” she blurted out, caught off guard by the punch of unadulterated lust. “I call bullshit.”

  “You got me.” The hand that had been holding her beer reached up, loosening the knot of his tie. He followed up the movement by unbuttoning the top two buttons of his dress shirt, and Amy fought back a whimper.

  What the hell was it about him? She’d been with men. She’d been with women. She’d had some good sex and some great sex.

  So what was it about this particular man? She wanted him now like she’d wanted him five years ago. And she’d never been particularly good at denying herself the things that she wanted.

  “Why were you here, then?” She stood up, trying to gain more control over the situation. Since he still had six inches on her, all it did was bring her right into his kinesphere.

  It still made her shiver.

  “Five years ago, you kept your name a secret from me.” He spoke in slow, measured words, stare on her face. “No matter how much I begged. I think it’s my turn to keep a secret.”

  “The difference being that I won’t beg.” Amy heard the breathlessness in her own words, felt promise shiver up her spine as his light green eyes darkened to the color of sea glass. He reached out with one of those massive palms of his, traced a finger along the curve of her jaw.

  “I think your memory is failing you.” His finger moved over her chin, up to press against her lips. Her tongue darted out, swiping over it, tasting the salt of his skin. It made need tighten in her core. “I’ve made you beg before. And I promise you, I can make it happen again.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  AMY SET HER beer down on the bench, then took his hand and led him inside Four Sisters. He sniffed for the spa-like scent he’d detected earlier. The diffuser-type thing still puffed away in the corner, but she’d changed the scent to something smokier. Something that made him think of sex.

  Who was he kidding? Just being in the same room as her made him think of sex.

  His back was to the door. When she turned back to slide the dead bolt on the door home, her chest brushed against him. He thought of those damn barbells in her nipples and was hard in an instant, a fact he couldn’t have hidden and didn’t want to, the way his pelvis was flush against the flat planes of her stomach.

  “Well, well.” Her voice was soft and rough, reminding him of the mountains he’d trekked on the same trip where he’d met her. “Looks like I might not be the one doing the begging after all.”

  “To hell with that.” Bending his knees, he cupped the curves of her delectable ass in his hands. She cried out when he lifted her right off her feet. Her legs twined around his waist as he carried her forward through her shop. She groaned, rocking her lithe body against his, and he swore under his breath when he felt her molten core make contact with his rock-solid length.

  He carried her past the bamboo room divider, then deposited her in her tattoo chair. It was black leather with a headrest and was already reclined—it couldn’t have been more perfect. She landed on her knees, reaching up for him, tugging on the knot of his tie until it came loose. He let it fall to the floor as she reached for the zipper of his suit pants. His eyes crossed when her nimble fingers brushed against the head of his cock.

  “Liked that, did you?” Her voice was a self-satisfied hum as she reached into his trousers and wrapped around his erection. “Jesus.”

  “You can call me that any time you want.” He huffed out a breath as she explored his length, working gently up and down.

  “I’d say you have a big head.” She circled a thumb over his tip, caught the droplet of moisture beading there. “But is it a big head if it’s justified?”

  “Fuck.” He halted his movements for a moment to let her play. Arousal built at the base of his spine as she danced those elegant fingers over his shaft. Finally he could take it no more and moved back, out of her reach.

  “You’re playing with fire,” he warned her as he undid the buttons of his work shirt. He felt her avid gaze as he worked it over his wide shoulders, then let it fall to the floor. With her eyes on him, he lowered his pants, his underwear until they were around his hips, then wrapped his own hand around the base of his cock. “Undress for me. Now.”

  “Bossy as ever, aren’t you?” Her words were a challenge, but her movements weren’t. Still on her knees, she fisted her hands in the hem of her tank top, then lifted it up and over her head, tossing it across the room. He groaned as her breasts filled his vision, those magnificent, adorned breasts that had haunted both his dreams and his nightmares.

  “I want to come on those fantastic tits,” he promised her, running his hand up and then down his erection. Her avid gaze followed the movements as she cupped her own breasts in her hands, squeezing them together.

  “Do it.” Her voice was breathless and she climbed from the chair, setting her feet on the floor. In one quick movement, she’d worked her torn jeans down over her hips, all the way down the floor. She stepped out, then stood before him, blissfully naked, her decorated skin open to his gaze.

  The piercings through her nipples were something he remembered, but there was a hoop in her navel that was new. He watched her run her hands over her torso, tugged on the barbells, and knew that he wasn’t going to last long. Not when the object of every fantasy he’d had for the past five years was here in front of him, tantalizing him in the flesh.

  Without speaking, he closed the space between them. Rather than pushing her down into the chair, he sat down himself. Reaching for her slim waist, he tugged her toward him, arranging her knees on either side of his.

  “Next time,” he promised as he lay back, tugging her astride him until she balanced on her knees, which rested on either side of his hips. “Right now I need you to ride me. Ride my cock until you scream.”

  She gasped, fire sparking in her blue eyes. Sliding up his body, she took him in her hand, then pressed the head of his arousal against her wet slit. She was wet and hot and he couldn’t help himself—he arched his hips upward, his swollen head working its way inside her far enough to make her gasp at the intrusion.

  “Fuck.” Her voice was a moan. Her head lolled back as she clenched around him. She was tight, even tighter than he remembered, so he dug his fingers into the flesh of her hips and willed himself to be patient.

  She shocked the hell out of him when she pressed herself downward. She took three-quarters of his length in with one movement, sending stars spinning in his vision. She bore down, beads of sweat breaking out along her forehead, but seemed stuck until he slid a hand between them, rubbing his large thumb over the center of her pleasure.

  She cried out, melting around him, and he seated himself inside her. They froze for a moment, his green eyes looking into her blue, as though neither could believe that this was finally happening, after so many years and so many dirty, filthy dreams.

  She seemed at a loss for words, and he understood that this wasn’t usual for her. He loved that, loved being the one to make this incredibly strong, mouthy woman lose control.

  Circling his thumb over her clit, he watched her eyes blur, then took over all control.

  “Move.” He surged upward into her and savored the vibration of her gasp. “Move on me.”

  He expected her to argue, to open that sassy mouth. A delicious thrill skirted down his spine when she did nothing of the sort, instead doing what he’d ordered and feeding into his arousal.

  He worked her clit with his thumb until he felt her tighten around him, her knees digging into his sides, her heat holding him tight. He moved faster, harder, and when she clenched around him and cried out, satisfaction that he’d brought her pleasure brought his own arousal soaring sky-high.

  Before she could regain her senses, he slid his hands up to her waist and over her rib cage to cup her breasts. Fuck, but he’d dreamed
of these fantastic tits of hers. Never in his life had he considered himself even the least bit wild—the Vaughan family didn’t do wild—but something about those heavy mounds of flesh, with the silver barbells piercing her taut nipples—it turned him on like nothing he’d ever experienced before.

  He couldn’t help himself. Catching the adornments in his fingers, he tugged on them and watched her eyes cross as the pleasure-pain swept over her. She shuddered, and he rolled her nipples in his fingers. Without warning, she cried out again, the cleft between her legs contracting and squeezing his cock so tightly that he couldn’t hold out anymore.

  His orgasm started at the base of his spine, spreading outward until his entire body was caught in the throes of pleasure. He rode the waves with his stare fastened on hers, the two of them shuddering as they came together, each of them ratcheting the other higher with just the memories and fantasies that hovered in the thick, sex-smelling air between them.

  Earlier that afternoon, he’d left Four Sisters Ink knowing that he was in trouble.

  Now, as he urged the woman of his dreams to ride the last waves of her own pleasure on his cock, milking his own orgasm from his flesh...

  He was pretty sure that his life was about to change forever.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  SHE REMEMBERED NOW.

  She remembered why she’d run away from Fred that night so many years ago. She’d gone into the encounter thinking of sex as something fun, a physical release. Sex with Fred, however, had cracked open her rib cage and given him access to her trembling heart. If he’d taken that heart and squeezed it in a fist, she might have been able to tuck her emotions away again, but instead he’d cupped it tenderly, as though it was meant to be treasured.

  It had scared the hell out of her and had sent her running away before he could do so much as cajole her name out of her, let alone a phone number. She hadn’t thought she’d ever see him again, yet here he was.

  Cracking her wide-open yet again. Nope, nope, nope.

  “That was fun.” She slid down off him, not an easy task given the sheer size of him. He propped himself up on his elbows, watching as she gathered her tank top and jeans and started to dress herself, movements brisk. “I’ve got work to do now, though.”

  She wasn’t looking directly at him—that was rather like looking straight at the sun—but she watched his brow furrow in her peripheral vision. He moved slowly, languidly, as though he was feeling as sleepy and sated as she was.

  Turning her head slightly, she watched as he hiked his pants back up to his waist, securing them with a fancy-looking leather belt. His stomach was flat, striped with more abs than a man who wore a suit for a living should have. His chest was also hard, dusted with reddish-gold hair, and the sheer size of everything about him made her mouth water all over again. It also had anxiety coiling in her stomach.

  It might have been five years since that first encounter, but she didn’t feel any more ready for these feelings than she had back then. So even though she knew it wasn’t great manners to kick him out right after sex—a reverse wham, bam, thank you ma’am—she needed some space, and she needed it now.

  She opened her mouth to tell him he needed to go, but before she could get out a word, he closed the space between them. With two fingers underneath her chin, he claimed her mouth once again in a kiss, hot and wet and nearly as dirty as sex. Her brain short-circuited, so that when he stepped back, she could only blink up at him with dazed eyes.

  “I’ll see you soon.” It wasn’t a question but a statement. He cast her that devastating grin that had once brought her to her knees, then turned on his heel and left her shop. The bells hanging in the doorway tinkled merrily as his head brushed the top of them—good Lord, he was tall.

  And then he was gone. Her breath exhaled on a whoosh, and her knees suddenly felt like they could no longer support her. She sank down into her tattoo chair, rising again when something crinkled under her weight.

  It was a sealed white envelope, the kind with the little plastic window in the front. Beneath that plastic was her name and the name of her shop, in official type.

  She knew the envelope hadn’t been there before Fred, so he must have left it, which seemed odd. Still, it had her name on it, so she shrugged and slit the paper open.

  It was a letter printed on official Vaughan Enterprises letterhead, and signed, Fred Vaughan—In-House Counsel. She scanned the contents once, then returned to the beginning and read it again more slowly as her teeth started to grind together in irritation. By the time she pulled out her phone to FaceTime her sister Meg, she was ready to breathe fire.

  “Uh-oh.” Meg’s face morphed from a happy smile to instant concern when she saw Amy’s expression. “What’s wrong?”

  “What would you do if you slept with someone and then found a letter from him kicking you out of your business location?”

  “Shut up.” Meg’s gasp was all Amy needed to hear. “Is he still breathing?”

  “I didn’t find it until after he left.” Amy frowned. “I don’t think he meant to leave it.”

  “Hold up.” Meg put her phone down for a moment, and Amy heard the low rumble of her sister’s boyfriend John’s voice. When Meg reappeared, her cheeks were flushed. “Okay, what am I missing?”

  “It seems that the mall I leased my space from is owned by the family of a guy I had a one-night stand when I was in Europe.” Pushing off from the chair, Amy started to pace. “I had no idea until he came in today. When I recognized him, he said he wanted a tattoo, but I’m guessing he was here to give me this letter.”

  “Why the hell would he be kicking you out?” Meg’s brow furrowed. “You’re booked solid. You bring people in.”

  “Seems the other retailers don’t like my aesthetic.” Amy smiled without mirth. “They signed a petition.”

  Meg swore, the colorful word echoing Amy’s own thoughts. Fred didn’t owe her anything, but to find out that he’d had this letter in his pocket when he’d pulled her astride him?

  Not. Cool.

  “What are you going to do?” Meg sank her teeth into her lower lip as she thought.

  “TPing his office seems a bit juvenile, but it might be satisfying.” Amy smirked when her oldest sister snorted.

  “Getting him drunk and tattooing a penis on his forehead is probably illegal, huh?” Meg rolled her eyes. “All the fun things are.”

  “I think I need... I need some kind of event. Something that will bring in people, a lot of people, as a reminder of what I bring to this place.” Amy pursed her lips as she concentrated. “But also something that gets under his skin. Which shouldn’t be hard. He’s one of those uptight suits. No offense to John.”

  “Mmm, those uptight suits are always the best in bed.” Meg sighed dreamily, stopping when she caught Amy’s pointed glare. “Sorry, kiddo. Thinking cap on. Um...if this was my catering company, I’d probably set something up outside the front door. Like a party, maybe. And advertise to draw people in.”

  “A party,” Amy repeated as the idea took root in her mind. “I think you’re on to something. I have to think a bit. But I know one thing for sure.”

  “What’s that?” On the screen, her sister bit into a cookie, reminding Amy that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast herself. She ignored the rumbles of her stomach, though, chasing the tendril of the idea before it floated away.

  “He’s not going to be able to pretend that this letter doesn’t exist anymore.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “I STILL DON’T understand why you deleted that waitress’s number, man.” Andy, one of the new interns at Vaughan Enterprises, shook his head as he and Fred made their way from the parking lot and into the plaza. “She was so hot.”

  “I wasn’t interested,” Fred repeated, his teeth grinding together of their own accord. His father, Fred Sr., had tasked Fred with taking his new intern out for lunch to we
lcome him to the office. Fred hadn’t been thrilled, because the new guy grated on his nerves, but hey, it was part of his job.

  If Andy—or was it Randy?—didn’t shut up about the waitress, or about hot chicks in general, though, Fred might just have to give in to the urge to dump the fresh grad into the nearby fountain.

  “If you didn’t want her, you could have at least given her number to me,” Andy-Randy grumbled, flicking his thumb and forefinger together to the beat of music that was steadily growing louder as they walked. Fred recognized the song as Tiffany—it was going to be stuck in his head all day now. “I could have shown her a good time.”

  “Are you serious?” Fred stopped in his tracks, looking down at the younger man and not bothering to hide the disgust on his face. “If she’d wanted you to have her number, then she would have given it to you. What is wrong with you?”

  Andy-Randy rolled his eyes, then jerked his chin toward the first row of shops. “Hey, what’s going on over there?”

  Fred followed the direction of his gaze. A long line of people snaked around a corner, some dancing to the music that was now loud and clear. He mentally ran through the list of nearby shops to think who could possibly have generated so much traffic. Not the luggage place, or the one that sold imported perfume and gave him a headache. The cupcakes at the bakery were actually pretty gross, so probably not them, either. Which left...

  Amy. It left Amy.

  Memories of the night before flooded his mind. The way she’d climbed astride him and taken what she wanted from him was the sexiest thing he’d experienced since...well, since her.

  He wasn’t overly bothered by the way she’d kicked him out immediately after, either. He’d felt it, too—that click between them. He’d felt it five years ago, just a flicker—a spark. Last night that spark had ignited, and he knew he wasn’t the only one who’d felt it.