Breathless in Love

by Bella Andre

  She bit his lip. A love bite. Then leaned down and practically jerked the T-shirt off him. If she could have had him in the car at high speed on the freeway, she'd have done it. This was the next best thing.

  They tore at the front of his jeans, Will undoing the button, Harper sliding the zipper. She stepped back onto the carpet to let him get rid of everything and swiped her T-shirt over her head. She'd never gotten naked so fast, and she didn't even let him climb fully up the bed before she was on him again.

  Her hair fell forward, cocooning them. "You made me crazy in the Cobra on purpose, didn't you?"

  He grinned a Who me? smile. But then his expression grew serious. And loving. "I want to give you everything," he said in a voice made raw with desire and emotion. "Everything you want. Everything you need."

  The next thing she knew, he'd sheathed himself. In one desperate move, she took him fast. Hard. And oh so right. The rush shot to her brain as he gripped her hips, arched, and went so deep there wasn't any part of her that wasn't filled with him.

  His skin was hot, his body hard. She was soft and liquid.

  They were a perfect match.

  "Harper." He looked up at her and let her see all the way into his soul. "What you do to me--"

  She reveled in the sweet sound of his surrender. Bending to the tattoo on his arm, she licked it, her tongue rasping like a cat's on his flesh. "Mine," she whispered. "Road Warrior."

  She lay flush against him and claimed his lips with another kiss. They were one, mouths locked, bodies fused. She took his tongue into her mouth the way she'd taken his hard flesh into her body, then angled her head for his kiss and circled her hips on him as Will groaned his pleasure again, a rumble against her breasts. She let him guide his hands on her--until she had to have more friction or she'd die without it.

  She pulled back from his luscious mouth, his sweet taste, and planted her hands on his chest both to steady herself and because she couldn't stop touching him. His skin was hot, his muscles hard. He forced her to a beautifully punishing pace, knocking the breath from her with each slap of their bodies.

  She clenched around him. "Oh God, Will, please. Please."

  He was so beautiful beneath her, his face taut, his hot eyes owning her. All her emotion welled up her throat, her cries spilling over. But she didn't care about the unladylike sounds she made. She didn't care that sweat turned her skin slippery. She didn't care about anything but the feel of him inside her...and the sound of his voice as he said, "I love you."

  Again and again and again.

  *

  Having smoking hot sex in a motel wasn't why he'd taken Harper for a ride in the Cobra. He'd simply wanted to share the speed with her because he knew how much she loved it. But she was one surprise package on top of another, always revealing a new and different layer.

  None was more surprising than the fact that she wanted the road warrior in him. For so long, he'd hidden that part of himself. He'd buried it with emotionless sex in the dark, always using his past to remain separate. But Harper had bared him. And accepted him. She'd taken him into that motel room--no luxuries, no gifts, no lies--and given over her whole self. He'd felt the gut-deep connection just the way he felt her thumb along the back of his hand right now as they headed home in his car.

  He had one hand on the wheel, and one hand on her, as she said, "I want you to know I'm not like this with anyone else. Not ever."

  He knew there was no way she'd ever done those things with someone else. She didn't have to tell him. She was in deep, just like he was...even if she still wasn't ready to say those three little words back to him.

  "I love everything about you, Harper," he said first. And while she was still blushing, added, "I have to go to London for a couple of days. I'd like you to come with me."

  "I can't take another day off so soon," she was quick to say.

  As quick as he'd honestly expected her to. Other women would have leapt at the chance to fly to Europe with him. But Harper wasn't like those women. She was independent.

  And still far too wary.

  "Would the following week work better?" The plant tour he'd arranged could be postponed.

  She found another excuse. "At this late date, a plane ticket would cost a fortune."

  He had a fortune. And more. "I have a private jet."

  Her expression shifted and he couldn't quite read her thoughts as she said, "You're forgetting about Jeremy. I can't just leave him like that."

  "I haven't forgotten about him. You know I wouldn't do that. He can stay with Mrs. Taylor and my driver can take him to school, to work, and back home again."

  "But..." She halted, and he knew her brain must be spinning as she looked at the situation from all angles, the way she always did. The way she'd always had to, ever since her parents had passed away and she'd become all Jeremy had. "I've never left him for that long."

  "You've never even gone away for the weekend?" The shake of her head marked his peripheral vision, and he felt a tightening in his gut at the confirmation that Harper had never had a life of her own. "He'll be fine with Mrs. Taylor. He likes her."

  "I know he does, but that's not the point."

  He knew he was moving fast, that he was pushing hard. But he wanted this--and he knew she did, too. "He'll be fine. I promise. He can do this, Harper. It'll make him feel like an adult."

  Jeremy was the biggest part of her life, he understood that. But Jeremy wasn't a seven-year-old child. Yes, he had limitations, but he would be fine for two days without Harper. It would be a vacation for them both.

  "Jeremy and I are a package deal." Her voice was tight now, no longer loose, the way it had been at the motel. "You can't have one without the other."

  "You know I want the package deal, Harper. But a little freedom won't hurt him. And it won't hurt you, either. You don't always have to be your brother's keeper. And I hope one day you know that you can always ask for help from me, too. Always."

  *

  Harper wanted to tell Will she wasn't Jeremy's keeper. But before the words could make it out of her throat, she realized they would be a lie. Because she had set herself up as her brother's keeper, and that had directed every decision she'd made since. Even her career choice had been about Jeremy. She was happy to do it, of course, happy to take care of him. But it was scary to realize that her entire world really did revolve entirely around her brother.

  At least it had--until Will had blasted into their lives.

  "Let me relieve some of your burdens, Harper." His voice was gentle but firm. Confident. As always. "And let me take you to London in my private jet." His tone changed, deepened, softened. Seduced. "I want to lay you down on the bed in my private cabin. I want to join the Mile High Club with you."

  He took all the air out of her objections with a few words and an image that carried a big punch. Of course he would have a bed in his private jet.

  "That's not fair," she whispered.

  "It's completely fair," he argued. "Because we both want it equally."

  God, yes, she wanted it, just as much as he did. Wanted it so badly that just thinking of it had her control ripping into even thinner shreds than it had out on the race track, and then at the motel.

  "I'll make sure he's fine. School, work, home. He won't be alone. I've got it covered. I promise."

  There was one big difference between Will and the men she'd dated, apart from his wealth: Jeremy loved Will. And from what she could see when they were together, he cared deeply for her brother as well. That alone should have been enough for her to say yes, but they weren't talking about one wild night together--this would be two full days and nights and an ocean away from her brother.

  "Tell me what you're really afraid of, Harper. And I'll fix it."

  She watched the parched brown hills of summer race by, felt the rumble of a semi as they whizzed past. "I'm not afraid of anything. I just worry."

  What if someday Jeremy doesn't need me?

  The thought surprised he
r. Surprised her enough that she was forced to ask herself whether it would really be such a terrible thing to take a couple of days for herself. If she let her brother fly freer.

  "You need to tell Mrs. Taylor that he doesn't like the dark."

  Will's grin was huge as her words made it clear that she would go with him, but he was smart enough not to gloat. "You can give her a list of instructions. And we'll be home in forty-eight hours. A very hot forty-eight hours."

  He picked up her hand and kissed her fingers. Even the light touch of his mouth set her pulse on high speed. She hadn't a single defense against him.

  A normal woman would question why she needed a defense against the perfect man. After all, Will had all the answers. He'd told her all his deep, dark secrets. And it wasn't that she didn't trust him.

  She put her hand over his on her knee and stroked his knuckles with her thumb. Then she splayed her fingers and laced them through his. He'd told her he loved her--and she wanted to love him, too, wholly and without any lingering fears. But though she now knew where he'd come from and how he'd made himself into the wonderful man he was--and even though she'd never been happier with anyone else--she still couldn't shake her natural tendency to hold something back.

  Just in case. Just for a little while longer, because everything had moved so fast between them.

  From zero to a hundred in the beat of a heart.

  Soon, she hoped, she'd be able to round the corner and feel sure about everything. Sure that Jeremy would be okay without her spending every waking minute watching over him. Sure that being a little wild, and unfurling her wings from time to time, wouldn't damage the life she'd built for herself and her brother.

  And sure that when Will said he loved her, he meant that he'd love her forever.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  It was far easier to clear time on her calendar than Harper had imagined. Jeremy thought it was a major adventure to stay at Will's for two days. He was going to watch all the Fast and Furious movies back to back, then all the Transformers. His tastes were simple. Other kids his age would have had a huge party and raided the liquor cabinet.

  Just as Will had said, Jeremy would be fine. He probably wouldn't even miss her. But she was determined not to spoil the trip by thinking about that...or by worrying that she was wrong, and that something might happen to him while she was out sowing more wild oats with Will.

  "This filet mignon is delicious." The luxurious lounge where they were served dinner aboard his private jet could pass for an elegant living room except for the seatbelts, the flotation devices, and the oxygen masks that would drop down if needed. "I should have known you'd serve gourmet meals."

  Will poured more champagne. "If I'm going to do something--" He grinned. "--I want to do it better than anyone else."

  Harper now knew that was no exaggeration. A limousine had driven them onto the airfield at San Francisco International Airport. Two flight attendants--a man and a woman, both in their mid-thirties, neatly dressed, attractive, and enough alike to be siblings--had greeted them, stowed their luggage, served cocktails, provided bowls of her favorite sweets, and disappeared. The captain, a seasoned gentleman in his fifties, had gone over the flight plan with Will, then returned to the cockpit.

  Throughout, Will was polite and full of thanks, not only with the captain, but also with the flight attendants. With his driver. With a waiter. With everyone. He thanked big, tipped big, and showed respect.

  "How is porcelain unique?" She went back to the conversation they'd been having. Tomorrow afternoon they were going to tour a porcelain factory he was interested in.

  "Actually, I'm not sure right now how I'll make it unique. That's the purpose of the trip. To figure it out."

  "But why?" She hadn't imagined Will would find china plates the slightest bit interesting.

  "The truth?" He gave her a grin that was halfway between cheeky and embarrassed. "I was on Facebook and some guy had posted photos of his new set of French china. People went nuts over that post. And you'd be surprised how many comments were from interested guys, not just women." His smile still made her heart race every single time. "So I'm looking into it."

  "You think there could be a lot of money there?"

  "I see potential. You can show some people a five-hundred-dollar set of china and they shrug it off as merely department store. But charge them five thousand, and suddenly, they've got to have it."

  "For the same exact thing?"

  "With a tweak--something to make it unique." He nodded. "It's about perceived value, not actual cost."

  It was a totally different way of thinking. She'd never bought the "most expensive." Although sometimes she had to agree that you got what you paid for when the thrifty alternative fell apart after two uses. So okay, sometimes expensive had its advantages.

  She waved a hand over the crystal, china, and silver. Everything was first class on Air Franconi. "Speaking of all this fine china--"

  "I didn't pay five thousand for it. So my testosterone is still intact."

  "I never doubted that." Will had way more than his share of testosterone. "Actually, I was going to say I feel totally underdressed in jeans. I should be wearing an evening dress."

  "You're perfect exactly the way you are. Besides," he said as he leaned close, "I intend to have you out of those jeans right after we finish the chocolate mousse."

  A flush of sexual heat washed through her, but she couldn't help wondering what his flight crew would think when he took her into his private cabin. But since she'd decided to take this trip with him, she intended to relish every single moment until the trip ended.

  Raising her champagne flute, she waited until he picked up his, too. "To the Mile High Club." She clinked the rim against his. "Let's save dessert for later."

  His eyes darkened with the sexy glint that never failed to turn her insides to liquid. "You always have such perfect ideas."

  He rose, came to her side, and leaned down, his mouth so close that his warm breath caressed the shell of her ear. She actually shivered. With anticipation. With lust.

  And with an emotion she was terrified to put a name to.

  "I'm going to tell my stewards to keep the mousse on ice and the coffee switch ready to brew." He nuzzled her cheek. "Then I want to walk in on a naked and willing woman in my bed."

  Air speed wasn't getting to her now. She didn't need the power of a jet engine.

  Will was all it took to make her crazy.

  *

  Harper was absolute perfection, her skin creamy and soft, her silky hair fanned across the pillow, her breasts taut and her body sweetly ready for him. "I should commission a portrait of you just like this." He would put it on the wall opposite his bed so that he'd see her the moment he opened his eyes. Until the day he convinced her to move in with him and he could just turn his head to look at her in all her flesh-and-blood glory.

  She laughed, a slight touch of nerves mingled with pleasure at his compliment, sexy and a little shy all at the same time.

  "Your champagne." He came down on the bed with one knee between her legs, tipping the glass until a dribble of sparkling wine filled her belly button. He sipped it away.

  She held his head to her stomach and arched up, a little hum of pleasure in her throat. The sizzle of champagne on his tongue and the sweetness of her skin were the only sustenance he needed. But he needed to be skin-on-skin with her, so he backed away and stripped down. Fast. There wasn't any rush, but why waste a moment covered up by excess clothing when he had Harper in his bed?

  The thought made him want to laugh. He felt as though not a single shadow was hanging over him anymore.

  He felt happy.

  It wasn't an emotion he'd truly known before. Not until Harper. And now, with everything in him, he wanted to make her happy, too. Happier than she'd ever been.

  He stalked her onto the bed, climbing on all fours until he was over her. He hadn't turned off the overhead lights and the late afternoon rays swept in throu
gh the portholes as well. As they flew east, the sun would fall fast. Her eyes were a seductive shade of blue, her lips full and red, and for the next forty-eight hours she was all his.

  "Beautiful." The single word was filled with awe. "You are just so damned beautiful."

  He leaned down to steal a kiss from her lips, taking a sip of her. Then he went deep, kissing her hard, tasting her mouth like a man addicted to sweetness, giving her his entire heart in the kiss.

  "You're beautiful, too." Her whispered words were almost shy. She traced his tattoo. "And so sexy. I've never known anyone with a tattoo."

  "Maybe they kept it hidden." The way he had.

  "I don't think so." She kept her gaze and her touch on the tattoo, the barest hint of a smile on her mouth. "I'd never been with a bad boy before. Not until you."

  He flexed his arm, the tattooed car undulating as if its engine were revving, which made her smile. "I used to be a bad boy," he said, "but now--"

  "You're still one," she said in a husky voice. "Every time you kiss me. Every time you touch me. Every time you look at me from across a room and I know that you're mentally stripping me bare. Or," she added with a sexy little smile, "when you've got me naked beneath you on your plane."

  "Naked and so damned sweet that you blow my mind every single time." He licked her lips, then trailed his mouth along her jaw, down her throat. He tongued the sweet skin at the hollow of her collarbones. He worshipped her breasts, tasting them until she moaned and arched beneath him.

  Thank God she'd said she liked being with a bad boy, because he couldn't stop himself from taking her with his fingers, hard and fast until her breath became sexy little pants that strummed his nerve endings. He bit her neck then, in the way she loved, and she tightened around him, her body rising, her breath falling, her pleasure sounds wrapping around his insides and pulling him in deep.

  Until Harper, sex had never been more than a physical release. It hadn't been sweet. It hadn't had meaning. But now her pleasure meant absolutely everything to him as she writhed on the bed, brought her legs up around his back, fisted her hands in the sheet, and cried out. Her body bucked against his and tiny tremors rippled across her belly as she climaxed hard.

  But she didn't cry out again, and he knew it had to be because she'd obviously remembered where they were. She'd thought about his cabin crew, and she'd shut herself down.