I can’t hold back my chuckle. “Not really.”
Her brows pull together like she’s surprised.
“You have to admit, you’re pretty amusing.”
Finally, she cracks a smile. “Seriously, thank you. If not for you, I’d still be sitting in that cold concrete cell.”
“It’s not a problem, but while you were in there, did you have to trade cigarettes for protection?” I joke.
She smacks me across the chest with the back of her hand. “I was locked up alone, thank you very much!” Her eyes find the road ahead of us again. “But they took my shoes and my feet were like blocks of ice on that concrete. Seriously, how is it even legal to lock people up like that?”
I chuckle. “I think once you break the law, they’re no longer concerned with keeping you comfortable.”
She moves her head from side to side like I might have a point.
I don’t know what it is about her, but she’s not like most of the women I tend to attract. They’d be grabbing my belt and trying to suck me off—hoping I’d put a ring on it. Granted, I tend to go after the ones I know only want me for my money, but Harley seems to have me wrapped around her little finger and I haven’t even known her for more than a couple of hours. Conversation flows easily between us and I’m absolutely intrigued by her.
She’s tall and thin, but has an ass and hips women would pay for. Her lips, I’m convinced, are God-given. It’s like she has the lips of an angel. They’re thick and plump and soft. I noticed a thin tan line on her collarbone earlier, delicate and faint. Her light green eyes against that warm-colored skin of hers is what gets me. The contrast of the color difference is striking.
The problem with being a well-known bachelor from a rich family with status and endless piles of money? People always have an agenda with you. I know I sound like the poor little rich boy, but the women in my life have always left me wanting more. I don’t blame them. They’re doing exactly what their parents expect of them: trying to marry into my family. I’m surrounded by that type all day long, and their endless chatter kills my spirit in every sense of the word.
Harley seems completely comfortable and content sitting in the silence with me. I’ve known her a few hours, and already, I’m curious to know more. She’s exactly the kind of woman I want to have adventures with—the kind of woman I’d blow things off for and indulge in the fantasy of happily ever after with for a while. And while it all sounds like innocent fun and games, my family and Bianca’s might have a thing or two to say about that.
I remember the talk my dad had with her parents. He promised them we’d end up married, but that I needed time to sow my wild oats. Bianca and I have dated many times over the years, and she’s in the same boat. We’re good together—we work—but neither of us is in love with the other. We tolerate each other more than anything. She knows where we’re being led just as well as I do. She hasn’t minded in the least that I want more time to enjoy my single years.
“Well, here we are,” I say, pulling into the garage.
She doesn’t say anything as we get out and I lead her to the elevator.
“Which floor?” she asks, reaching out to push a button.
I just smile and wave my key fob over the censor. The doors close and it takes us all the way up. When we stop, the elevator dings, and the doors open to my entryway.
She rolls her eyes. “Of course. Penthouse. How did I not guess that after looking at your car?” she teases, stepping inside.
I follow her in. She pauses in the living room, looking up at the big fireplace and the TV above it. “I guess I’ll take the couch.” She walks around it and has a seat.
“If you want, but I do have a guest bedroom if you’d like more privacy, and perhaps a shower?”
“Did you say shower?” she asks, her ears perking up.
I laugh. “Follow me.”
I lead her down the hallway and open the door to my right. “There is a connected bathroom through there that’s fully stocked with soap, shampoo, and a toothbrush. You can also use the robe hanging on the back of the door. It’s clean. And if you’d like, you can leave your clothes in the hallway and I’ll have the staff wash them for you to wear tomorrow.”
“Wow.” She smiles. “This is like a luxury hotel. A girl could get used to this.” She walks into the room, spinning around to look at me.
“Don’t get too used to it. Checkout is at 8 a.m.,” I joke. “Well, it is if you want a ride to your friend’s place. I have to work in the morning.”
“On a Saturday?” she questions.
I shrug. “No rest for the wicked,” I wink. “Enjoy your night.” I step out and close the door behind me. I take a deep breath and force myself to go to my own room. I’m surprised I made it out of there without trying for something more. But I’m sure she’s tired after the night she’s had.
I take a shower and climb into my own bed. Alone. Even though my thoughts are still with her and what she could be doing in there. I force her from my head and turn off the lights. Sleep comes easily after the long day I’ve had.
My alarm goes off in the morning and I push myself from bed. I walk into my closet and grab a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. I’m supposed to be volunteering at the new youth center today, and then the dinner’s tonight. But I have strict instructions to skip the dinner if I can’t put in the work. My dad wants our name on the list of donated work and money. He’s donating the money, so it’s my job to donate the work. He knows I know nothing when it comes to construction, but he figures I’m young enough and in good enough shape that it’s possible. I still haven’t asked Bianca about the dinner tonight, but I figure she’s already planning on going. Asking her at the last minute wouldn’t be a problem.
I leave my room and find the place empty of everyone but my staff. I look around for Harley and figure after last night, she’s probably still sound asleep. So I knock on the door to be her own personal wake-up call. The room is silent on the other end, so I open the door and stick my head in the small crack, not wanting to appear like a weirdo who’s trying to catch a peek.
She’s still in bed, dark hair fanned out across the white pillows. She’s on her stomach with the blanket low on her naked back, barely hiding her ass from me. Her back is sexy as fuck and just as tan as the rest of her. I guess her tan line is lower.
I walk into the room and over to her bed. I place my hand on her shoulder and gently shake her. “Harley?” I say softly, not wanting to scare her.
She jumps awake anyway.
“Are you still wanting that ride to your friend’s place?”
“Oh,” she says, finally making sense of what’s going on. She shakes her head to clear it, then rolls over to sit up. It’s a surprise to both of us when she flashes her naked chest my way.
“Shit,” she breathes out, pulling the sheet up to her chin. “Sorry, I guess I was bound to flash someone.”
I ignore the need that pumps through me and step back with a laugh. “You can flash me anytime you want,” I joke, but I’m also completely fucking serious. I only saw her breasts for a moment, but it was enough to know a glance will never be enough. Her tits are round and perky. If I had to guess without touching them, I’d say a good C cup. But she’s so tiny that they appear even bigger on her small frame than they would on anyone else. I’ve seen enough fake ones in my day to know that hers are the real deal. Sure as hell doesn’t stop me from wanting to touch them—to cup them in my hands and feel for myself. Maybe using a more sensitive part of my body like my tongue.
Nope. Stop there. This isn’t a hookup. This is the morning after a failed attempt. That’s all.
“Anyway, I’ll be out there when you’re ready to go,” I tell her.
She yawns and nods her head as I make my way out of the room. Once I’m alone, I take a deep, clearing breath. I shake the dirty thoughts from my mind and push forward. I go to the kitchen and find something for breakfast. I settle for a blueberry muffin and pour myself a cup of coffee
. I take both items to the living room to watch TV while I eat. I finish my muffin in three bites and the coffee a little while later. I check my watch and see that it’s going on 9 a.m. What in the hell is she doing in there? I wonder if she went back to sleep.
I turn off the TV and go back to her room. I knock, but once again, there’s no answer, so I twist the knob. The door opens and my eyes find the empty bed. So she isn’t asleep. I turn my head to the left, and that’s when she comes walking out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a damp, skimpy towel. My jaw flexes as I grind my teeth. Like I fucking need any more temptation.
“Sorry, I thought you went back to sleep.”
“I was too tired to shower last night. I figured I’d just jump in real quick,” she says, holding her towel around herself so tightly that her knuckles are turning white. “Are my clothes out there?”
I turn and look, noticing the small laundry bag on the floor beside the door. I pick it up and hand it over.
“Thanks,” she says with a shy smile. Her cheeks turn a light shade of pink and it only makes me want her more.
“Whenever you’re ready,” I say, turning again to leave her alone.
“Foster?” she says my name so quietly that I barely hear her.
“Huh?” I ask, turning around, but she’s already directly in front of me.
“What we talked about last night . . . at the bar. It’s still on the table if you want it.” She looks up at me from beneath her long, dark lashes. She looks so fucking innocent without a stitch of makeup on her face. Her big green eyes are boring into mine and I can feel my body coming alive with the promise.
“It’s still on the table?” I ask, almost unable to process her words.
“If you want it,” she adds on again, just as softly as before.
I have things to do today. I have to help at the center and then the dinner’s tonight, but I didn’t make a promise to be there. I just said I would try. To me, that only means if nothing better comes along and . . . well, what she’s offering is by far better than swinging a hammer when I have no business even touching a tool.
The decision is made in a split second. The next thing I know, my hands are on her hips and I’m pulling her against my chest. Our lips connect softly at first, but I don’t let it linger. I thrust my tongue into her mouth as she reciprocates. Her arms wrap around my neck—pulling me closer—but it’s impossible to get any closer without moving through each other altogether. As I start walking her backward, I realize she’s completely naked under her towel. Looks like I need to even the playing field.
I release her hips and reach behind myself to grab my shirt. I rip it over my head and our kiss only breaks for a moment before our hungry mouths are right back where they were. Her arms fall from my neck down to my jeans where she quickly works to unfasten them. I kick off my shoes, and when I do, my pants begin to fall on their own. I push her back on the bed and strip off my jeans as I crawl up her body.
Three
Harley
My, oh my, can this man kiss! I’ve kissed plenty of men in my lifetime, but he’s different. His kiss isn’t just a kiss—it’s untamed passion and desire. A kiss with him is something else entirely. Sure, his thick, soft lips are a major part of it, plus his sweet tongue, but it’s the way his tongue and lips move. His tongue rolls against mine, dances with it for a moment, then pulls out slightly only to suck on mine.
And his hands. His hands are big and strong. When he places one on my hip, the palm is on my hip bone while his long fingers stretch around to my lower back. He knows when I need a firm squeeze and when I need softness. It’s almost like he’s reading my mind.
His lips fall from mine, and for a moment, I’m thankful. I’m so breathless, but I could kiss him until I pass out. Instead of stealing more air from my lungs, he kisses down my jaw to my neck. He goes lower, kissing the swell of my breasts. He releases the knot on my towel, but doesn’t expose my whole body. No, he’s taking his time and revealing me piece by piece. My breasts are free and his hands cover them now. His mouth kisses lower to my nipple. He flicks his tongue across it, making my stomach muscles tighten. Then he sucks it into his mouth, making me release a soft moan of delight.
My fingers thread into his hair, tugging gently as my back arches upward. But even though I’m pulling his hair and my body seems like it’s trying to get away from him, he doesn’t stop. Again, he seems to know what I need. His right hand falls away from my breast even though he doesn’t pull his mouth away. It lands on my right thigh, slowly easing up my towel. When he gets to the top of my thigh, his hand falls to the center, finding my pooling wetness.
He runs a finger between my slick folds, and when he brushes against my clit, my hips jerk, but he still doesn’t stop. Instead, he slides a finger into me. He slowly pulls it out and replaces it with two. They dive back in, this time, wiggling inside me. With each wiggle, it feels like he’s rubbing my G-spot, which is ready to trigger my release. But it can’t be that easy. I want him to work for it.
Then his thumb finds my clit again. With his fingers still moving inside me, his mouth still torturing my nipple, and his thumb grazing my clit, I shatter. I didn’t even realize I was so close—not until I was completely coming undone. My breathing picks up and my moans and whimpers leave my mouth in a much louder tone. My cries only push him to work me over faster. I ride out every last wave of my release until my body feels like mush as it relaxes against the bed.
He pulls away from me and his dark eyes find mine. His lips are pink and glistening from the work they’ve just done. They part as he breathes just as heavily as I do. He pushes his boxers down his hips and I feel the moment he springs free. His long, thick cock glides its way up between my folds, the silky softness only teasing me further. I feel like I’m in a hurry to get him into place. I want to feel him inside me, especially after the things we’ve already done. But I’m not quite ready yet. I want to feel him between my lips. I want to wrap my hand around his shaft. I want to make him feel the pleasure he just gave me.
I push against his chest, and when he rolls over, I go with him. I kneel between his parted knees, and with my eyes on his, I wrap my hand around his shaft. Just as I thought, he’s so thick that my fingers can’t even close around him. If my hand can’t make the stretch, I doubt my mouth can fit much of him, but I’m dying to try.
I wet my lips, trying to be as sexy as I can—it’s not something I’ve perfected over the years—then I lower my mouth to his hard cock. I wet the tip, licking around it like an ice cream cone, then I plunge him in further. When I feel him hit the back of my throat, he lets out a moan that makes my muscles tighten, and it makes me work harder, wanting—no, needing—to hear that sound again.
I take him as far back as I can go, and when I hit my limit, I slide him out, only to plunge him back in. His hand comes up to rest on my jaw while the other tangles into my hair. He guides me along at a pace he finds more suitable, then his hands fall away at the same time his head falls back against the pillow.
“Oh, fuck, Harley,” he says as his breathing becomes labored, “I need you to stop before I come.”
I don’t stop.
“Fuck, you’re good at this,” he breathes out, still hanging on by a thread.
I take him in even further, holding back my urge to gag. His hands are at his sides and I can feel them tighten into fists in the sheet. His muscles tighten and his breathing gets louder. “Oh, fuck—ohhhh!” he says as he comes, spilling himself into my mouth.
I swallow him down, remembering how nasty and salty it’s tasted when I’ve done this for other guys. But Foster tastes different. He’s not as salty. In fact, he’s almost sweet. I swallow down every last bit he gives me, then I continue to suck. I don’t know what he’s saying now, but I think it’s just a long string of cuss words and heavy breaths.
Finally, he’s calmed down enough that he puts his hand on my jaw again, and this time, I pull away. I look up at him and can feel how swollen my lip
s are.
“You’re fucking amazing,” he says, pulling my mouth up to his, where they meet and he kisses me.
I know a lot of guys who wouldn’t kiss after oral, but he doesn’t seem to be one of them. As our kiss grows more urgent, he rolls us back over and positions himself between my parted knees. His cock is alive again, ready for round two as it presses against me. He grabs a condom, and as one hand holds my jaw to continue our kiss, his other hand falls between us. I feel him slide on the condom then put himself into position, and then with a soft shift forward, he’s gliding into me. He’s so big that I can feel my inner walls stretching around him. It’s almost painful, but the pain mixes with the excitement and pleasure my body is already feeling, creating the most delicious cocktail of passion.
He pushes forward inch by inch, slowly and teasingly. A part of me wonders if he’s wanting to take things slowly or if he’s just allowing me to become used to his size before demolishing my lady bits. A few times he pulls out slightly then pushes back in, going a little deeper than before. I squeeze his biceps when I feel his pubic region touch mine, indicating he can go no further. The pain is unreal, but it’s delicious, and I wouldn’t want it any other way. When he’s finally all the way in, he rolls his hips and his cock presses against spots inside me I didn’t even know existed. One little shift is all it takes to have my body tingling in need all over again.
I tighten my hips around him and wrap my arms around to his back. “Foster, fuck me,” I say, but the words come out pleading—like I’m begging. But hey, if that’s what he wants, I’m more than willing to participate at this point.
He makes a sound in the back of his throat that sounds like a growl. Suddenly, he pulls out of me and dives back in, this time much more forcefully. The speed makes it feel like he’s only grown bigger inside of me. The pain is back, mixing with pleasure again. I never knew there was such a fine line, but now it’s a line I love to teeter along the edge of. I don’t know how I’ll ever be happy sleeping with another guy. Foster’s now ruined me for good.
My Accidental Forever (Love You Forever Book 5) Page 3
