by Tijan
“Definitely not,” I replied. Him just being here, holding me, made everything feel so much better. “And I’m sorry about the shoes. They’re beautiful and I love them. Sometimes I don’t accept gifts well.”
He chuckled. “Can I ask why?”
I shrugged and he didn’t ask me anything else.
We stood in my kitchen for what seemed like hours, just holding each other until I managed to say, “I’m okay.” His chest muffled my words.
He sighed, his ribcage rising and lowering against my breasts. “I should go,” he said, but didn’t release me.
“Don’t,” I whispered.
“I don’t want to.” He sounded tired. As if by hugging him, I’d sapped him of his energy. “And that’s why I should. We said no more trips to Vegas.”
We had, and it had been the right thing to do. The problem was the more time I spent with him, the more I wanted.
“Then let’s go somewhere else,” I said, smoothing my hands up his back, shifting my hips just a fraction.
“Harper,” he whispered.
“Aruba,” I suggested. “Or Paris.”
He dipped his head and kissed my neck. My knees weakened in relief. It was what I’d been waiting for since he arrived, since lunch, since the last time he’d touched me.
“Or just here,” I said, trailing my fingers up his sides and around his neck. “Kiss me,” I whispered. “Just be here with me.”
He grabbed my ass and brushed my lips with his, first left then right. I wanted more. I wanted him. I didn’t know if he was trying to torment me or still weighing the advantages and disadvantages of being with me again.
I slid my hands down his chest and he caught my wrists before I could convince him to stay.
“You want me, huh?” he asked, placing my hands on the counter behind me.
I wanted to drown out the day. “Kiss me.”
“You think this is about making you feel better about today. But it’s not,” he said, his eyes not leaving my face. “It’s about this.” His hands swept up my arms and cupped my face. “About the way you feel when I touch you.” He bent and placed a kiss on the corner of my lips, teasing me, making me wait. “About how you need me to fuck you more than you need your next breath.” He knocked my legs apart with his knee.
I couldn’t argue with him. Nothing he was saying was untrue.
I wanted him. Every second. Since before I’d met him.
Even when I thought he was an asshole, I wanted him.
But I wasn’t about to admit it.
I squirmed when he reached into the waistband of my leggings, his insistent hand pushing into my panties. “You see?” he asked. “You’re wet for me.”
He ran two fingers up and down from my clit to my entrance, giving neither relief. I twisted my hips in an effort to feel him deeper, harder.
“Admit it,” he said. “Admit how much you want me.”
I shifted my hands from the counter where he’d placed them and grabbed his shirt, fumbling with the buttons.
“No,” he said, removing his hands from my underwear and batting my hands away.
I groaned in frustration.
“Admit it,” he said.
“I want to get fucked.” It was true.
“You are the most infuriating woman I know. And that’s a mighty high bar given the women in my life.” He pulled up my T-shirt, making me shiver as he grazed my skin with his palms. “Fuck,” he said when he realized I wasn’t wearing a bra. “Tell me. Tell me now.”
“You want to feel special?” I asked, taunting him. “You need to know that women desire you over anyone else?”
He shook his head slowly. “Just you. I need to hear it from you.”
“Why?” I asked as he bent and took a nipple in his mouth, his tongue circling and sucking, his fingers tugging at the other.
“Because it’s the truth,” he said and he kissed me again on the lips. “Because it’s what I feel whenever I think of you, whenever you’re near.”
Heat ran into my limbs and I put my arms around his neck, gazing into his eyes. He stared back and lifted me onto the kitchen counter.
I nodded. “It’s true. I want you.” The words sounded soft as they came out. Did he notice?
“I know,” he said, his gaze flickering to my mouth just before he pressed his lips to mine. I sighed with relief. A layer of calm engulfed us as if our mutual admissions bound us together. My tongue found his and instead of being urgent and possessive, I allowed myself to go at his pace. I encouraged his seduction of me.
He leaned back and placed a kiss on my nose. “If you’re still wearing clothes, I’m not doing something correctly,” he said as he pulled at my waistband.
What had I just admitted to him? Had I said I wanted more? I wasn’t sure, but all I could focus on were his fingers pulling down my leggings, the glazed look in his eyes as he examined every inch of my skin as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. Nothing else seemed to matter.
As my clothes hit the floor, he scooped me off the counter and walked me out of the kitchen and over to my bed. When we’d been together before, we’d both acted as if we were against the clock. Tugging at each other, desperate to make each other feel good as soon as possible in case someone rang the bell and told us our time was up. This was different. Our kisses were lazy, our movements languid. He ran his palms down my body and brought his hand to my inner thigh as he lay next to me.
“You’re wearing a tie,” I whispered.
“Like I said, one of the brightest junior researchers I’ve ever worked with.”
I smiled and reached out, pulled the silk material clear of his neck, opened the top couple of buttons of his shirt, and slipped my hand against the skin just below his neck. I sighed. He would make today go away.
Quickly, he stood, stripping completely naked in seconds, throwing his three-thousand-dollar suit on the back of my couch. Then without asking, he opened the drawer to my nightstand and took out a condom.
“Are you dating?” he asked as he joined me on the bed. “No. Don’t answer that.”
I stroked his cheek and he looked up at me. “Are you dating?” I asked.
“No,” he responded. “I’m—”
I stroked my thumb over his lips. He didn’t need to explain himself. I didn’t really care, because whatever else was going on in his world, or my world, I wanted this to happen. I didn’t want to think about tomorrow, to consider consequences. I wanted to drink in the way his eyes, tongue, and hands all seemed to worship me.
He leaned forward and kissed me, taking my bottom lip between his teeth before biting down until it stung, then pushed his tongue against mine. I could kiss him forever. If his penis fell off, I could be happy for the rest of my life with just his tongue. Without stopping kissing me, he put on a condom.
“I love your kisses,” I said before I had time to think maybe that wasn’t something I should say.
He groaned against my mouth. “And what else?” he asked, his fingers skimming the juncture of my inner thigh.
“Your fingers, your face, your cock.” The words tripped out of my mouth, and before I had time to take any of them back, he was over me, pushing into me, slowly but so deep. I brought my knees up as far as they would go, opening myself as wide as I could for him.
“Like that?” he asked as he paused deep inside me.
I nodded, my fingers digging into his shoulders.
“Relax,” he said. “It’s just you and me.”
I exhaled. It was just him and me. Nothing else mattered.
His eyes opened wider, as if he were asking me if I was ready, and I slid my hands over his ass in response. He pulled out almost as slowly as he’d filled me up and I whimpered, overcome with sensation.
“Harper,” he whispered. “Look at me.”
I watched as his erection entered me. I glanced up and he slammed in while I clung to him. “You love my cock. You said it, baby, and now you’re going to get it. I’m going
to give you everything you need.”
He plunged into me, this time giving me no time to recover before pulling out and then pushing back in. He groaned through a clenched jaw.
I do that to you, was all I could think.
This man, who looked like Gucci made suits just because he existed, groaned because of me.
This man, whose beautiful green eyes told everyone who met him he was the boss, was fucking me.
This man, who ruled Wall Street, the power behind the performance of leading investment banks in Manhattan, was having to concentrate so he didn’t come too quickly because of me.
I brought the King of Wall Street to his knees.
“Jesus, Harper.”
I pushed against his chest and shifted so he stopped. We were both going to come within seconds if we stayed like that. I moved under him.
“What? That was perfect,” he said.
“Too perfect,” I replied and flipped over onto my stomach. Seeing him so undone would push me over the edge too soon.
He slid his hands under my thighs and pulled me toward him and straight onto his dick. My back arched as pleasure shot through my legs and ricocheted left and right then up my body. I pushed myself up onto my hands, trying to participate in some way, but I couldn’t.
I clenched as he ran the heel of his hand up my spine then clasped my shoulder. “So tight. So good,” he groaned.
In seconds I was right on the edge, the change of position having done nothing to dampen my desire for him, to ward off my orgasm. His touch made sure everything was just as intense.
“Max,” I cried out.
He thrust in, harder this time. “Again,” he choked out.
“Max. Please. God. Max.” I couldn’t hold it off any longer.
As I spiraled down from my climax, Max bellowed out my name and collapsed on top of me, his front to my back, then rolled to the side, pulling me with him.
Chapter 12
Max
I came out of the bathroom to find Harper hadn’t moved a muscle. I couldn’t blame her; we’d spent most of the night fucking and I was exhausted.
“From what I saw today, your father still has quite the hold on you.”
Harper pulled the sheet up over her face. “Really? You’re standing there with your dick out looking at me while I still have your come between my legs, and we’re going to talk about my father?”
“You don’t have my come between your legs. I just threw out the condom.”
She popped out from under the sheet to scowl at me. “I meant it figuratively.”
She was so completely breathtaking when she was mad with me, and I quickly forgot what we were talking about. “You look beautiful.” I crawled onto the mattress. I wanted to pull her into me, but she swiped me on the arm and headed to the bathroom.
“You don’t take any money from him, do you?” I called after her. Her apartment, her clothes. She wasn’t taking any handouts from what I could see. I liked that about her. She was independent. Unable to be bought.
“Why do you ask?” She appeared in the bathroom doorway, one hand on the frame, totally unconcerned by her nakedness. I really liked that about her. I liked the way her hips flared, emphasizing her small waist. Liked the way her tits jutted out as if they wanted to join in the conversation. My dick hardened.
“Max?” she prompted, and I pulled my gaze back up to meet hers. “You’re a pervert.”
“You’re naked. What am I going to do other than look at you?”
“I don’t know, answer me?”
Even her sarcasm got me hard.
She pulled her hair back as if she were going to tie it up, which lifted up her breasts and lengthened her stomach. “Get the fuck over here before I start jerking myself off.”
She released her hair and stepped toward the bed. I grabbed her, pulling her down and against me, wrapping my legs around hers, clasping her to my chest. I couldn’t get close enough to quench my thirst for her.
“You’re right. I don’t take money from him. I started to take some money when I went to college. I figured he owed me that. But it didn’t feel right. I didn’t know that man.”
I pulled her closer. They seemed like strangers at lunch; he was asking her the most basic questions any father should already have known the answer to. There was no affection on Harper’s side. He was the man I’d never wanted to be for Amanda.
“Did he and your mother divorce?” I asked.
“No.” She exhaled sharply. “He didn’t have the decency to marry her in the first place.”
Oh. “Pandora and I didn’t marry,” I replied.
“Yeah, you said. Did you not want to marry her?” she asked. After seeing her with her father today, I wondered if she’d wanted to ask me that question for a while.
I tucked one arm behind my head. “Neither of us wanted to get married.”
“But you wanted Amanda. I mean you stayed in contact with her.”
My thumb skirted over her hip. “Sure. Pandora and I talked about getting married, and I can’t say I know why we didn’t go through with it. We were both about to go off to college and maybe we knew we’d be compounding one mistake with another.” It had been the right decision. “Not that Amanda was a mistake. Just the pregnancy wasn’t planned. Clearly.” Harper glanced up at me and I smiled at her. “Pandora and I were good friends, and just before graduation one thing led to another . . . It was never meant to be anything more than a good-bye.” I sighed. “It bound us together forever.”
Harper pressed her lips against my chest. “She never wanted to get married, not even after Amanda was born?”
I kissed the top of her forehead. “I don’t think so. She met Jason when Amanda was about a year old.”
“Did that bother you?” she asked.
“No, not at all.” It genuinely never had. I liked Jason. He was good to Pandora and my daughter. “I think her parents were worried, but I always wanted Pandora to be happy. We’d been friends a long time. And it didn’t stop me from wanting to be the best dad I could be.”
Harper didn’t respond but I could tell she had more to say. I was content to stay wrapped around her in silence.
Eventually she sighed and said, “I agreed to come shopping because I assumed Amanda would be miserable going shopping with you. I assumed you took as much interest in Amanda as my father did in me.”
I pulled back slightly to look at her. “Really?” I said. “She loves shopping. Doesn’t mind who she’s with but I like to take her. I think since Pandora left, she misses. . .” I almost said her mother but I didn’t want Harper to misunderstand what I was saying. “You know, the girl thing. And Scarlett is dating like a dozen men and Violet is—”
“Violet?” she asked.
“My other sister,” I explained. “And both grandmas want Amanda to stay a little girl for as long as possible. So, we have mutual aims and objectives there.” I pulled her close and she pressed her cheek against my chest. “She loved having you there. Didn’t stop going on about you when we got home—it certainly raised some eyebrows.”
“It did?” she asked. “What kind of eyebrows?”
“The busybody kind. I guess because we work together and live in the same building. I think my sisters believed . . .” What had they thought? That we were dating?
“Is Violet younger than you?” she asked and I was grateful she had gone in a different direction.
“Yes, and a complete pain in the ass. Always interfering in everyone’s business. She’s a meddler.” I chuckled as I realized it might be a genetic thing. “She’s a lot like Amanda in that way.” Amanda dressed her constant whining about wanting a baby sister as self-interest but I was pretty sure she wanted me happy. “They have a lot in common.”
“Sounds like you have your hands full. Even without King & Associates.”
I sighed. “They occupy two different spaces in my brain.”
“Maybe,” she said. She wiggled her body against mine, and I rolled us over un
til she was on her back and I was looking down at her.
“You’re the exception,” I said. “You seem to have taken up residence in both spaces.” I brushed my nose against hers and pulled back to look at her. “I realized it in the cab today. I liked that we could just be together, near each other. No talking, no touching.”
She nodded very slightly.
“This is new to me,” I said. I wasn’t sure what this was. If I was just having a personal relationship with someone I worked with, or having sex with someone I knew more about than just their last name. Or was it the fact that whenever I saw her, whenever I thought about her, whenever I touched her, I wanted more. It was all new.
I dipped my head to kiss her nose as she wrapped her legs around me, pulling me close until my cock pushed against her.
I’d fucked a lot of attractive women with nice, firm asses; long, lean legs; and huge tits. Harper was attractive, gorgeous even, but with her, the stuff that made me hard, that had me moaning, was more than just the physical. I liked the way the silences were comfortable, the way she could make me laugh, the way she seemed to open up as I drove into her.
“You want some of this?” I asked, rocking against her. She grinned and I shook my head. “Insatiable,” I said as I lowered myself onto my forearms and licked along her collarbone. She threaded her hands through the back of my hair, setting goosebumps off across my skin. I took her breasts in my hands, grazed her nipples with my tongue and then again with my teeth. She arched against me as my nips became careless and harder. My dick throbbed at her reaction, but it wouldn’t find relief any time soon. Winding up her lust got me hard, her desire towing me along.
“I want to see you in those shoes I bought you,” I said, my voice hoarse. Her naked in those shoes had been an image front and center of my thoughts since I made the purchase.
She grinned up at me and ducked under my arm, heading across to her closet. I shifted to my back, waiting for her. She stepped out into the door frame, her hands above her, bracing on either side of the wood, one high shoe stroking up the side of long, tan leg. I couldn’t stop the groan that ripped out of my chest. I reached for her but instead she turned around, swaying her hips one way and then another. “How do they look from the back?” she asked. I didn’t know where to focus—her thick, soft hair sweeping down her back, down to her small waist, or her high, tight ass as it jutted out to get my attention, or between her thighs where I knew it was so soft and wet. The shoes magnified every inch of her perfect body.
