Enraptured: A Billionaire Romance (The ROGUES Series Book 2)

by Tracie Delaney

  Oliver cast a glance in my direction, winked, then returned his attention to Sinead. “I might just take you up on that.”

  I blushed, the meaning behind his comment clear considering what he’d suggested right before Annie arrived. Oliver saw Sinead out while I listened to Annie babbling about her night away from home. So far, she seemed none the wiser, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I wasn’t ready to answer any difficult questions yet. I’d rather she remained oblivious, at least for the time being.

  “Okay, munchkin.” Oliver picked up Annie and swung her around, much to her delight. “What do you want to do today?”

  “The zoo!” she announced.

  Oliver looked over at me, his gaze hot and hungry. “I’d love it if you’d join us. Would you?” he asked in a husky tone that had my lady parts clenching.

  I could have sworn my knees trembled.

  “Oh, yes, please,” Annie said, pressing her hands together in hope. “Please, Harlow. Me and Daddy will be so happy.”

  A feeling of breathlessness followed by a sense of belonging coursed through me, and my eyes filled with water. “You got it, sweet pea.” I distracted myself by adding a spoonful of batter to the sizzling pan. “Pancakes first, then the zoo.”

  20

  Harlow

  Winter came early this year, and before we’d reached the end of the first week in November, a thick layer of snow lay on the ground, and cloudy skies cast a gray hue over New York. Today, mist hung low in the air, cutting off the tops of the high-rise buildings surrounding Central Park and giving the city an eerie air.

  Pulling my coat around me, I burrowed the lower half of my face into my scarf, then tucked my hands inside my pockets. The bitter wind chapped my face, and leaves swirled around my ankles.

  I miss summer.

  Thinking about the warmth of the sun brought Oliver’s mother to mind. She’d return from her vacation in five weeks’ time, and Oliver still hadn’t broken the news about us. He reassured me she’d be thrilled, and promised he’d tell her the next time she called.

  “No agenda, Harlow,” he’d declared when I’d challenged him after her last call last weekend. “Just me being an idiot man and not thinking.”

  I wanted to believe him, but at the back of my mind, a niggle that wouldn’t be silenced kept on and on that I was some sort of delayed rebound, a temporary salve for his battered soul, and once the scars his wife had caused healed, he’d realize we were terribly mismatched and decide to move on.

  Except he still insisted that when his mother returned, I wouldn’t be going anywhere. I’d all but moved into his bedroom, although I still made sure to set my alarm so I could rise long before Annie woke up. I didn’t want her catching me sneaking out of her dad’s room or, worse, bursting in to find us in bed. Oliver thought I was crazy; I’d insisted they were my terms, like it or leave it.

  I’d tentatively tested Oliver only a few days earlier by musing that I was thinking of giving Tamara, my recruitment consultant, a call. He’d vigorously shaken his head and told me I didn’t need to find another job.

  Yet I couldn’t figure out how it would work when both his mother and I occupied the same space. Liv was lovely, but I worried I’d tread on her toes, or make her feel unwanted. I’d voiced my worries to Oliver, and he’d laughed and said his mom would welcome the ability to do her own thing. From what I could glean, she and her boyfriend—was boyfriend the right term when both parties were in their sixties?—had gotten even closer during their overseas trip. Maybe they’d want their own space. That would certainly make things a lot more straightforward and avoid any bad feelings on either side.

  Annie still hadn’t broached the subject of Oliver and me, despite Oliver showing me lots of affection in her presence. It was as though she simply accepted the change and didn’t see the need to delve into the whys of it all. I loved that simplicity about kids, their adaptability and the ease with which they moved on in life without creating unnecessary waves. Adults could learn a lot from children, if they bothered to pay attention.

  I waved to Debbie, my chest tightening at the sight of Patsy standing on the front step, fused to Debbie’s side while sucking on her thumb. I visited the home Oliver funded as often as I could, and I’d fallen in love with all the kids here, but Patsy held a special place in my heart. Debbie was homeschooling her at the moment, Patsy’s mental state too fragile to attend her local elementary school. She still hadn’t spoken, although every time I stopped by, she would crawl into my lap and nestle her face in my neck—and I’d just melt.

  I jogged down the steps to the subway—I still didn’t like using Oliver’s driver despite his repeated insistence that I should—and climbed aboard the first train heading to south Manhattan. Oliver had invited me to lunch, and I’d jumped at the chance to see him during the daytime, something I rarely did. Usually, he was far too busy, and often had a working lunch, or, on occasion, he didn’t even stop to eat a sandwich. All the ROGUES directors seemed to work incredibly hard, although I’d only met Ryker and Elliot so far. Oliver assured me I’d meet the rest of the team at the ROGUES Christmas party that the company held in the third week of December each year. I acknowledged that his mother would have returned by then, yet he was still making plans for us. I wanted to believe in the future but was too damaged by the past.

  Alighting from the train, I allowed the crowds of people to sweep me up to street level. I waited at the crosswalk, glancing up to the top floor of Oliver’s building. I imagined him standing at the window, one hand in his pants pocket, watching me. Maybe even feeling a shiver of excitement at my imminent arrival as he thought about bending me over his desk and sliding his cock home.

  Inwardly I chuckled. I’d always been a dreamer. In all likelihood, I’d find him sitting at his desk, a frown of concentration pulling his brows into a deep V as he stared at his computer screen, working on the next big deal, and when he saw me, he’d glance at his watch, astounded that the morning had passed by in a flash, his day so absorbing he hadn’t given me a second thought.

  I preferred the dream to the likely reality.

  After signing in at reception, I rode the elevator up to the top floor. I’d only been here on one other occasion, two weeks earlier when Oliver had proudly shown me around, introducing me to everyone as his girlfriend.

  Yet still I held back.

  Still, I couldn’t quite settle into that role, regardless of how often Oliver reassured me of my place in his life.

  That damned niggle wouldn’t quit.

  “Hi, Harlow.” Oliver’s PA, Carly, greeted me with a wide, welcoming grin. “Go right on in.” She gestured toward Oliver’s closed office door. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

  “No, thank you,” I said. “I’m good.”

  That wasn’t all together true. My mouth felt parched, but it wasn’t due to dehydration. It had much more to do with excitement and adrenaline. Every time I laid eyes on Oliver, I’d get giddy, like a teenager experiencing her first crush. Last week, I met Katie for dinner, and right off the bat, I’d babbled on about Oliver for thirty minutes straight. When I finally shut up, she’d hit me with an enormous smile and said I was obsessed.

  I couldn’t deny it.

  Whatever my feelings were for Oliver, they ran deep. Far deeper than they had with Carter, who I’d dated for a year before the cheating scumbag decided he’d rather stick his dick in the neighbor’s pussy than mine. Whenever I thought back to him, I realized he’d been convenient instead of a conscious choice. A guy I’d liked, never loved, but who had at least provided me with company, someone to go to the movies with, and had given me a roof over my head. A roof I’d lost the minute I caught him with his bare ass in the air, wildly thrusting his hips as he threw away our entire relationship.

  If I’d loved Carter, then I wouldn’t have gotten over him so fast. I wouldn’t have fallen for Oliver.

  Wait… what?

  I hadn’t fallen for Oliver.

  I was not i
n love with Oliver Ellis.

  I liked him, that was all. And he was good in bed. Great, in fact. This was crazy talk brought on by regular, multiple orgasms. I barely knew the man. Except carnally. There, I knew him very well indeed.

  “Harlow?”

  I jerked out of my stupor and blinked at Carly. “Sorry, what?”

  “Are you okay?” she asked, concern lacing her tone. “You kind of zoned out on me there.”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry. A lot on my mind. He’s free, you say?”

  She gave me a puzzled look. “Yes. You can go right in.”

  “Thanks,” I mumbled, pulling myself together. I rapped once on the door and pushed it open.

  Oliver wasn’t sitting behind his desk staring at his computer screen as I’d expected. I found him standing with his back to the window, facing in my direction. He had one hand buried deep in his pants pocket, the other casually hanging by his side.

  “Hey.” I closed the door behind me. Maybe I was imagining it, but I could feel Carly’s interested stare burning into the back of my head. “Is everything okay?”

  He covered the space between us in four long strides and threaded his hand through my loose strands. He tipped back my head, then kissed me. Not a ‘we’re in the office, let’s take it easy’ kind of kiss, but one of those ‘I don’t give a fuck who sees us’ kind.

  “I missed you,” he murmured against my mouth while removing my coat. He tossed it over a nearby chair. “I watched you cross the street. I thought you’d never get here.”

  A thrill raced through me. He had watched me.

  See… dreams can come true.

  His lips feathered over my neck, and I tipped my head to the side to give him better access, biting back a groan in case Carly had her ear pressed to the door.

  “Do you still have time for lunch?” I asked breathlessly.

  “Can I eat you first?”

  My stomach convulsed with wanton need. “We’re in your office.” I panted as he covered my right breast with his palm, his thumb sweeping over my erect nipple. “Anyone could walk in.”

  Oliver drew back with a wolfish grin. “I know.”

  He kissed my neck, and his hand burrowed beneath my clothes. I sighed. Skin to skin. There was nothing like it.

  “Oliver,” I gasped when he pinched my nipple, sending a flood of warmth between my legs. “Stop.”

  He paused, then raised his head. “Is that a real instruction, or one borne out of fear that someone might interrupt us?”

  I flushed red. “The latter,” I admitted.

  He reached behind me where he turned the lock. “There,” he said, returning to me. He tongued his top teeth and raked me in a full-on head-to-toe gaze. “Now you’re mine.”

  21

  Oliver

  I’m lost. I can’t get enough.

  Every sense I possessed felt on high alert. My fingertips tingled whenever they touched her skin, my nostrils filled with Harlow’s unique scent, and her panting breaths were the sweetest sound. The taste of her filled my tongue as I thoroughly kissed her.

  Carly would have heard the lock slide into place. By now, the PA gossip train would be in full flow, steam rising from the keyboards as emails flowed around the company, each one filled with salacious chatter.

  I didn’t care.

  Sinking to my knees, I pushed up Harlow’s skirt, bunching it around her waist. I hooked my thumbs into her panties and slid them slowly down her legs, my eyes fixed on hers. I watched her pupils dilate, the flare of desire eclipsing her hazel irises. She stepped out of her underwear, leaving her free for my fingers and tongue.

  “You’re soaked,” I murmured, parting her folds with my thumbs. I licked along her opening, rewarded when she gasped and buried her fingers in my hair. I pressed down on her clit, then slipped my tongue inside her, purposely going slow, drawing out the pleasure, her soft little moans and sharp intakes of air giving me her blessing to carry on.

  She tried to speed things up, to set the pace. I withdrew. She whimpered in frustration.

  “Oliver, please,” she pleaded.

  “I love it when you beg.” I nipped at her inner thigh.

  She hissed through her teeth.

  “Tell me what you want, Harlow.”

  “You. I want you. Your mouth, your tongue, your hands on me. I want to come, Oliver. And I want you to be the one giving it to me.”

  Man, this woman knows how to say all the right things.

  “What’s the rush?”

  I lapped at her folds, then circled her clit with the tip of my tongue. In response, she dug her fingernails into my scalp, her head falling back.

  “Yes. God, yes. Just like that.”

  “Pull up your shirt,” I said. “Show me your tits. Tug on your nipples.”

  Okay, who am I?

  I didn’t recognize myself. This certainly wasn’t the kind of sexual relationship I’d had with Sara, or my other brief flings. I felt myself changing, morphing into someone else.

  A man I liked.

  A man I respected.

  A man who wanted to pleasure his woman far more than he sought pleasure for himself. One look at Harlow’s flushed cheeks, swollen breasts, and stiff nipples, and I knew I’d never tire of watching her as she exploded into a shuddering climax.

  “God help me,” she moaned.

  Her legs quivered, and her left shoulder twitched, a sign I’d noticed in the last couple of weeks when she orgasmed. Every day I learned something new about her, learned to read her body and adjust my actions to bring her the most satisfaction.

  I rose to my feet and handed back her panties. She leaned into me for support as she pulled them on. Her eyes fell to my groin, my erection clearly visible through my pants. She reached for me. I stepped back.

  “This isn’t a tradeoff, Harlow. I didn’t go down on you expecting you’d do the same for me.” I bent my head and kissed her. “Let’s go to lunch.”

  “Won’t that be painful?” she asked. “I mean if I don’t… help you.”

  I laughed. “Since getting with you, I’ve learned to live with it. Don’t worry. I’ll let you make it up to me tonight.”

  I picked up my cell phone and slipped it inside my jacket pocket, then helped Harlow back into her coat. I took her hand, unable to suppress a chuckle at her beet-red cheeks when we left the office, and Carly greeted her with a wink.

  “I’m mortified,” she said as I ushered her into the elevator and pressed the button for the lobby.

  “You’ve made her day.” I pulled her close. “And mine,” I added in her ear.

  My car was waiting right outside the ROGUES building. Harlow climbed in first, giving me a terrific view of her ass. She glanced over her shoulder and caught me ogling.

  “You’re insatiable,” she said, grinning, her earlier embarrassment diminishing. “Where are you taking me, anyway?”

  “JoJo’s.” I fastened my seatbelt. The car moved smoothly away.

  Harlow frowned. “I don’t think I know it.”

  “It’s fairly new. Only been open a few weeks. I took a client there last week. The food is good, and the atmosphere is light and fun. Perfect for a flirty lunch.” I picked up her hand and kissed her knuckles.

  The journey to the restaurant took fifteen minutes. I’d called ahead to reserve a table. Just as well, considering how packed it was.

  “What a great place,” Harlow said after the greeter had shown us to our seats. She glanced around, taking in the art adorning the walls, the mismatched tables and chairs, and the colorful drapes adorning the windows.

  “I believe all the artists are local,” I said.

  “The paintings are for sale?”

  I nodded. “Yes.” I gestured to the server. “Sorry to rush you, but I have to be back by two for a meeting.”

  “That’s okay,” Harlow said, scanning the menu. “I’ll have the grouper with wild rice, and a water, please.”

  “Sounds great. Make that two.”

 
“You should have canceled if you’re busy,” Harlow said when we were alone.

  I took her hand and brushed my thumb over the back. “Never too busy to spend time with you.”

  “That sweet mouth of yours will turn this restaurant diabetic if you’re not careful.”

  I chuckled. “This might surprise you, but my two o’clock appointment won’t think I’m sweet.”

  “I can imagine. I’ve seen you in action, remember.”

  I traced the tip of my tongue over my bottom lip, and my gaze fell to her chest. “Yes. You have.”

  She giggled at my double entendre. “Can you turn anything into a sexual innuendo?”

  “What can I say? It’s a gift.” I sipped my water. “I spoke to Mom about us,” I added casually as the server brought our lunch order.

  Harlow’s eyes widened. She waited for the server to retreat, then leaned forward. Her hand went to her necklace, and she fiddled with it. “You did? Was she okay? I mean, what did she say? Is she fine with it all? With us?”

  I grinned and reached across the table to still her zigzagging. “You’ll break the chain if you carry on. And yes, she was fine. More than fine. Thrilled, actually. She likes you a lot.”

  I refrained from adding how relieved Mom had been, how she’d shared her worries and concerns that I’d allow what Sara did to ruin my entire life before I’d even reached thirty.

  Harlow blew out a heavy breath between pursed lips. “Thank goodness for that. Is she still planning to return in a few weeks’ time?”

  I nodded. “I believe so, although I think her trip has given her the chance to reassess. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if she wants her own place when she returns to Manhattan.”

  She plucked at the skin at the base of her neck. “Not because of me, I hope.”

  “No,” I said reassuringly. “I hope she does move out. She’s given up enough of her life to help me through the last six years, and now…” I lowered my voice. “Now, well, I kind of hope you’ll stick around for the next sixty or so.”