Ignite

by Karen Erickson

  “And that’s your fault how?” Harper asked, setting the menu down.

  Delilah shook her head. “Who knows? They love to blame me for everything. The reason that girl can’t focus is because she’s a spoiled brat who gets to do what she wants whenever she wants it. I try to get her to listen to me in class, but forget it. She’s too busy mouthing off or spacing out. Or giggling with her friends.”

  “I already ordered you a glass of wine.” As if on cue, the waiter appeared, setting their glasses on the table in front of them. “Want to get an appetizer?”

  “The goat cheese and apple one sounds great,” Delilah murmured, her gaze glued to the menu.

  The moment the waiter took off with their appetizer order, Delilah set her menu on the table, blowing out a harsh breath. “Oh my God, that was totally awkward.”

  Harper frowned. “What was?”

  “Our waiter? I went on a date with him once.” Delilah held a hand up in front of her and examined her fingernails.

  “You did? What’s his name? How was it?” How did Harper not know this?

  “His name is David and it was . . . not great. Oh, he’s a nice guy and we had an okay time, but he wasn’t doing it for me. Not my type.” Delilah flicked her thumb against her middle finger, her nails clicking together.

  “Who is your type?” Harper braced herself. If she said someone like West, she would die. That would end her plan to tell Delilah about her issues with him.

  “I’ve sort of been all over the place when it comes to dating, but I think I’ve finally figured him out.” Delilah splayed her fingers, ticking off her dream man’s qualities. “Tall, with a take-charge attitude. Quiet. Strong. Calm. Protective. Responsible. Good in bed.”

  They both laughed over the last one. “That’s a given,” Harper said in agreement.

  Delilah grinned. “Kind. Handsome. Maybe even a little standoffish sometimes, though never mean. I’ve come to realize I have a thing for the still-waters-run-deep sort of guy.”

  Harper knew without a doubt her friend was describing Lane Gallagher. He was all of those things and more.

  The waiter came back to their table and took their order, making conversation with Delilah and allowing Harper the opportunity to watch her squirm. She didn’t squirm often. Delilah was always so confident, so at ease with talking to anyone. Talking with the waiter she had no interest in, she looked like she wanted to slide under the table.

  “I thought he’d never leave,” Delilah whispered the moment he was gone.

  Harper grinned and took a sip of her wine.

  Delilah’s eyes narrowed as she studied Harper. “What’s up with you? Don’t tell me Roger’s trying to get you back.”

  “I haven’t even heard from Roger since I moved out.” He’d mailed her last paycheck, but otherwise, there’d been no word from him. Maybe he was mad. Maybe he was already over her.

  “Do you regret breaking up with him?”

  “No.” Harper shook her head. “It was the best thing for me to do. He wanted to settle down, but all I was doing was settling. It wasn’t fair to him.”

  “So now you’re a free woman, yet your grandma is your roommate and you’re working at the BFD.” Delilah shook her head. “Honey, you need some excitement in your life and quick.”

  Here was her chance to spill her guts about West. Taking a deep breath, she decided to go for it. “Actually, I have had a little excitement in my life lately.”

  “Found a love letter written to your grandma among the boxes of receipts?” Delilah raised a brow.

  Harper stuck her tongue out at her, making Delilah laugh. “No. Something happened between me and . . . someone else.” Chicken. Can’t even say his name out loud.

  Delilah leaned forward, her eyes dancing with excitement. “Ooh, don’t hold back! Tell me who it is. And what exactly happened with you and this mysterious someone. I want all the dirty details.”

  Harper actually blushed. Damn her pale skin. “There are no real dirty details.”

  “Then why the blush?”

  “You’ll never believe who my someone is.” Harper pressed her lips together, nerves eating at her insides. Maybe she shouldn’t tell Delilah after all. She might flip out. She might try to convince her she was making a mistake—and maybe she was. She probably was. Okay fine, she totally was, but nothing could change her mind. The idea of letting West go filled her with panic. Yeah, he’d been a jerk last night, but he’d been honest.

  And now she was contemplating taking him up on that honest offer and seeing where it might take them . . .

  Okay. Maybe that wasn’t the smartest choice, but it was definitely a selfish one. And since when had she ever been selfish when it came to being with a guy? She was a giver. She always had been. With Roger, she’d deferred to him on everything. Every choice, every matter, every meal, every TV show. It was all for Roger, never for her.

  Well, she was done. Now she wanted to do something for herself. And she was considering doing . . .

  West.

  “Let me guess.” Delilah’s gaze never wavered from Harper’s. “It’s West.”

  Harper’s jaw dropped open. “How did you know?”

  The smug look on Delilah’s face was obvious. “I saw the way he looked at you at the supermarket. I’d recognize that look anywhere.”

  Harper leaned back in her chair. “What do you mean?”

  “He looked like he wanted to gobble you up. And in the best possible way too.” Delilah smiled. “So, what happened between you two? Does Wren know about this?”

  “No,” Harper said quickly. “Wren doesn’t have a clue and you can’t tell her. She will flip the heck out.” She proceeded to give Delilah all the details, right down to what West said before she left the condo.

  “And I haven’t heard from him since,” Harper finished, shaking her head.

  “It’s only been a day,” Delilah pointed out. “Oh, and he’s an idiot. I just needed to state that for the record.”

  “He’s a total idiot,” Harper agreed. “But he’s a sexy, sweet idiot and I think I want to go talk to him. He’s off work tonight. Tomorrow night too.” Imagine the many things they could be doing for the next two nights . . .

  Okay, seriously. Did she really want to fool around with West? Have a no-holds-barred fling with him? One night together and then they could walk away. No attachments. No obligations.

  She couldn’t believe she was considering such an arrangement, but her life was already in complete upheaval so what the hell.

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “Well, that’s where I think I need advice.” Harper chewed on her lower lip. She’d never been as open about her sex life like Delilah and Wren were. “I need some more . . . excitement in my life.”

  “Of the sexual kind?”

  Harper nodded. “And I want to see if West is up for the challenge.”

  “I’m sure he is.”

  “Maybe so, but maybe not with me?” Harper sighed. “All that talk about him feeling unworthy worries me. Like he’ll never make a move on me because he thinks I’m long-term material when he’s looking for a short-term girl.”

  “And you want to be his short-term girl?”

  Harper nodded. She wasn’t ready for any sort of commitment, no matter what West said. She wanted something fun. Hot. Mind blowing.

  Passionate.

  The secretive smile curling Delilah’s lips made Harper smile in return. “Then I know just the thing for you to do to blow his socks off. Even if he’s not wearing any socks.”

  They both started to laugh.

  “I’m serious though. You’ll need to be bold,” Delilah said.

  “I can do that.” Harper nodded, excitement bubbling up inside her.

  Excitement accompanied by a very fine case of nerves. Bold had never been her thing. She was a linger-in-the-background type of woman, always had been.

  But when it came to West, he made her want to do something crazy. She just wasn’t su
re if he was interested in her type of crazy.

  “Like, really bold. I’m talking about throwing it all out there. Letting him know exactly what you want from him so he won’t misunderstand your intentions.” Delilah watched her. “Once you start, you can’t stop.”

  She smiled, pushing past her normal anxiety. “Trust me, I’m up for the challenge.”

  WEST WAS FUCKING exhausted. He’d spent most of the afternoon into the night painting the kitchen and dining area. The painting part wasn’t exhausting though. It was all the prep. Taking down the pictures on the walls, taping off the baseboards and the ceilings, cleaning the walls, laying out the drop cloths to protect the floors. That shit took forever.

  And he was over it.

  He’d taken a shower and had only bothered to slip on a pair of basketball shorts. He was sprawled out on the couch, watching TV and nursing a beer. All alone on a Saturday night; how pathetic could he get?

  Not much more pathetic.

  Holden had called him, asking if he wanted to meet at a bar, but West turned him down. Lane had a day off too, but once they were done with Home Depot, he’d gone home and locked himself away in his tiny house, like he might melt if he got caught outside after sundown.

  Not that West wanted to hang out with Lane. And he was too damn tired to keep up with Holden tonight. He’d rather stay home and watch shitty TV, nurse his emotional wounds, and hope like hell work would pick up soon so he could at least keep himself busy and not think about how he’d blown it with the girl of his secret dreams. It was late, past ten o’clock, and he should’ve just gone to bed but there was no point. He was wide awake, and he’d already jacked off in the shower so he would’ve just laid in bed and stared at the ceiling.

  No thanks.

  A knock sounded at his door, startling him, and he climbed off the couch to go answer it, pissed that it was most likely Holden ready to convince him he should go out to the bars. He didn’t bother looking through the peephole, just unlocked the door and swung it open, launching right into a speech for his little brother.

  “I already told you I didn’t want to go out tonight,” West said, the rest of the words stalling in his throat when he saw who was standing on his front doorstep.

  It was Harper, wearing a black trench coat on a warm June night, her long auburn hair extra wavy and flowing past her shoulders, a secretive little smile curving her very red lips.

  “You did?” She blinked up at him, all wide-eyed sexy innocence. “Maybe I should go then?”

  She started to turn and he grabbed hold of her arm, halting her progress. “Don’t go.” He sounded eager. Way too eager. Clearing his throat, he started over. “Sorry. I just thought—I thought you were Holden.”

  “Oh.” She turned to fully face him once more and his gaze dropped to her feet, which were in the sexiest, shiniest black high-heeled shoes he’d ever seen. “So you don’t mind that I stopped by?”

  He looked up, their eyes meeting. “Not at all.” What was she up to? Her eyes were heavily made up, as were her ruby red lips. And her hair was downright wild . . . all he could think of was fisting it in his hands and tugging her head back so he could plant a long, deep kiss on those juicy lips.

  “It’s sort of late.” She blatantly scanned his mostly naked body, her glossy lips parted, her pink tongue touching just the corner of her mouth. Her gaze lingered on his chest and arms, cataloging his tattoos. She seemed fascinated with them and he was half tempted to flex his muscles just to see if her eyes grew hungrier . . .

  Which they seemed to do, without any encouragement on his part. If she didn’t stop looking at him like that he might get a freaking boner and that probably wouldn’t be good. “Were you in . . . bed?”

  The provocative way she just said it made him aware of her close proximity. How her hands tugged on the ends of the belt wrapped tight around her waist. The hollow of her throat was exposed, as was a bit of her chest. She looked practically naked under that coat.

  Hmm.

  “No, I wasn’t in bed.” He paused, wondering what the hell she was up to. Whatever it was, he could appreciate the way she was staring at him, and he was damn thankful she’d come by. He figured he’d blown it for good with Harper. “You want to come in?”

  “I would love to.” She smiled and he stepped out of her way, the scent of her surrounding him as she walked by. He shut and locked the door and followed her as she moved deeper into the living room. Grabbing the remote from the side table, he turned off the TV, the sudden silence amplifying every move she made.

  “So I have a proposition for you,” she said, turning to face him once more. “One I’m hoping you’ll agree to.”

  In the hushed quiet of his house, she looked a little less sure, a little more nervous. A lot more like the Harper he knew. He wanted to reach out and reassure her, but he also wanted to hear what she had to say first.

  “Really?” He rested his hands on his hips, noting the way her gaze dropped to linger on his stomach. He felt downright exposed, what with the way she studied him. Not that he minded. “What is it?”

  She bit her lower lip as she contemplated him, her straight white teeth a bold contrast to the deep red coating her lips. “Last night, when we talked, you said you weren’t boyfriend material.”

  He winced. Did he really need a reminder of the stupid things he’d said?

  “And I told you I wasn’t looking for a relationship, which is true. I don’t want one. But I do want something from you, West.” She reached for the coat belt, slowly undoing it. “I’m hoping you want the same thing.”

  Oh, shit. He was fairly certain he knew what was about to happen. She’d shed the coat and—he hoped—she would be wearing nothing much underneath. And if she was asking for uncomplicated sex, could he give her that? Did he want to give her that?

  She bent her head and undid the belt, letting it fall to the floor. Glancing up at him, she didn’t smile, didn’t say anything. Just held his gaze while her fingers moved over the few buttons keeping the coat together, until the last button was undone and the coat fell open. Revealing that she wore nothing but the smallest scrap of black lacy panties he’d ever had the honor of seeing.

  He broke out into an immediate sweat. Yeah. He’d give her whatever she wanted, no questions asked.

  “Sit down, West,” she demanded and he did, practically falling backward onto the couch, his hands gripping his knees. He told himself to calm the hell down, but the quick mental reassurance was no help. He had an erection just from seeing her like this, watching her move toward him with pure determination in her every step as she shrugged out of the coat so it fell onto the floor in a crumpled heap.

  She pushed his hands away from his knees and straddled his thighs, her bare breasts in his face, hard, rosy pink nipples a complete temptation. Ignoring them, he tilted his head back, blinking up at her as she smiled down at him, shaking her head so her hair tumbled all to one side.

  “Like what you see?” she asked, her voice husky. Sexy.

  So unbelievably sexy he couldn’t believe this was happening. How’d he get so fucking lucky?

  “I definitely like what I see,” he said, his gaze . . . everywhere. He didn’t know what to look at first. Her face? Her breasts? Those slender legs straddling him, the lace panties and what lay beneath? Christ, she was trying to kill him. Slay him dead.

  It was working.

  Harper rested her hands on his shoulders, her fingers tracing the artwork that covered his skin. She drew closer, her hair trailing over his bare skin, and bent her head so her mouth was by his ear. “You should touch me, West. Touch me wherever you want.”

  Ah, fuck. Closing his eyes, he pressed his lips together when she kissed his neck, her hot, damp lips driving him insane. Her hands slid down his chest, her hips shifted forward, and he swallowed hard, desperate to keep his shit together.

  He settled his unsteady hands on her hips, slipping his fingers underneath the thin lace. She went still beneath his palms, her
warm breath fluttering against his neck. Spreading his fingers wide, he slid them over her soft, plump ass, pulling her in closer. So she could feel exactly what she was doing to him.

  “Despite your worry last night, I can handle uncomplicated. I can be whatever you want me to be,” she whispered against his throat, her lips tickling his skin.

  Yeah. This was probably a huge mistake. But he was beyond the point of thinking or worrying about mistakes. His control was this close to snapping completely. Her hair was in his face, her mouth on his neck, her ass in his hands. She surrounded him, soft fragrant scent and panting breaths and trembling skin. They were both close enough to naked that it didn’t take much imagination to figure out what it would feel like, to have Harper bare and in his arms.

  “You feel so good,” she whispered as she lifted up so she hovered above him, her hands settling on his cheeks. He tilted his head back as she moved in, her mouth landing on his as she kissed him. Devoured him.

  He let her take control, content in the taste of her, the feel of her. Where had this bold version of Harper come from? He wasn’t complaining. This was the push he needed. For whatever reason, this woman made him nervous. Hesitant. Unsure. He kept blaming it on their past, on their friendship, but maybe it was something more.

  Maybe it was because he cared about her too damn much. He didn’t want to hurt her. Didn’t want to ruin their friendship. For once in his damn life, he wasn’t being completely selfish when it came to sex. He worried about her.

  West wanted to make her happy. Leave her satisfied. Any other woman, he would’ve taken over by now. Taken command of the kiss, of the entire situation. Hell, he’d probably be inside her already, or at least with a condom in hand and his intent clear.

  But now, in this moment with Harper, he wanted to savor her. Let her draw it out and get what she wanted from him before he took over and demanded what he needed from her.

  Her tongue tangled with his, her hands clutching his face, the little whimpering sounds in the back of her throat making him want to pull her hair and kiss her deeper. But he didn’t. He kept his hands on her ass, fingers tugging and pulling at the flimsy fabric of her panties, brushing against her sensitive, rarely touched skin. She shivered beneath his hands, breaking the kiss so she could take a breath, and he stared up at her, watching as she took deep breaths, the way her breasts moved, her nipples like hard little points, beckoning him.