by Lily Harlem
“Don’t sweat it, didn’t you see that?” she snapped.
“Aye, but—”
“There’s no but about it, Mason. In that bar those two guys came up to me, touched me without permission and you and Lucas took them out. You left them unconscious and bleeding on the floor. Yet when it’s me, and two women touch my boyfriends, I’m supposed to just take it, to not sweat it.”
Mason was quiet for a moment, then, “It was harmless fun. Harry’s a celebrity, it’s par for the course.”
“Not my bloody course, it isn’t.”
George walked away and Harry and Evan stood.
Harry held up the golden key card and nodded toward the elevator.
“Come on,” Mason said. “Let’s see this suite, perhaps there’ll be a nice bedroom with our name on it.” He leaned closer. “I’m keen to get out of these leathers and I’d like to get you out of yours too.”
“Yes, I need to get out of these clothes.” She slipped her hand into his, needing his calm strength when her emotions were bubbling. A night with Mason might be just the thing to restore her equilibrium.
The elevators in The Luxor ran at an incline owing to the shape of the building. As they rose upward at a slant she stared at Harry.
“What?” he asked.
“You have lipstick on your cheek.”
“Have I?” He turned to the mirror and swiped at the red splodge.
Mason and Evan shared a look.
“And you’re not innocent,” she said to Evan. “I saw you with those women.”
“Hey, I didn’t have much choice, babe.”
“Of course you had a choice.”
“Hey, Liv. You saw what happened,” Harry said, holding up his hands. “We didn’t exactly go asking for it.”
She huffed and the doors opened. It was true, they hadn’t, but still she couldn’t shake the anger.
Stomping down the carpeted walkway, and ignoring the spectacular view of the huge foyer below, she stopped at room two twenty-two.
Harry was silent as he pressed a key card against the door handle. He used his palm to press it open. “After you,” he said to her.
Olivia walked in and dumped her bag on a chair next to a door that was slightly ajar and led to a large bathroom.
Harry, Mason and Evan stepped in behind her.
But instead of turning to the room, she placed her hands on her hips and faced them.
Mason eyed her warily.
Evan bit on his bottom lip.
“What?” Harry asked, running his hand through his hair.
“You need to apologize.” She jabbed her finger at him. “And so do you, Evan.”
“Er… I think I might leave you guys to it.” Mason held up his hands. “I’ll see you later.” He slipped out of the room.
“Babe.” Evan reached for her and cupped her face.
She stared up into his blue eyes.
“The last thing I’d ever do is hurt you.”
She said nothing.
“You have to believe me. I love you, you know that.”
A shaky sigh left her mouth. “I know.”
“And I’m hardly a global superstar. Believe it or not, that kind of thing has never happened to me before. I was as shocked and surprised as you.” He leaned closer. “But it won’t happen again, I promise. I didn’t like it, and neither did you, so that’s the end of it.” He brushed his lips over hers. “And I’m sorry it happened at all.”
She melted against him. “Okay.”
He smiled, just a little, then kissed her.
For a moment she surrendered to his flavor and the way his tongue stroked hers as he held her face, then she pulled back.
“So we’re good?” he asked.
“Yes.” She stepped away. “But you, Harry, have got much more explaining to do than Evan.”
“What? Why?”
“Because you should have been expecting that kind of thing, and you should have—”
“Whoa!” Evan said, backing up to the door. “I’m gonna copy Mason and leave you to it.”
“Here.” Harry tossed him a key card. “You have the other one.”
Evan caught it. “There’s two here.”
“Take them.”
He nodded and slipped from the room.
Silence wrapped around her and Harry.
“I need a drink.” Harry headed deeper into the suite.
Olivia followed.
After pouring a glass of what she guessed was whiskey from a crystal decanter, he knocked it back in one go and stared at her.
She glanced around the room. A huge marble fireplace was set with fresh flowers, three low sofas surrounded a table heavy with candles, and the sloping window showcased a view of a huge hotel and The Strip.
“You get given all of this, for free… why?” she said.
“You know why. My father is a very good customer here.”
“And they know you well.”
“He’s brought me here since I was a kid, my mother and sister too. One of his policies was to travel with us as much as possible, even when it was business. I’ve known George for over twelve years.”
She nodded.
He poured another drink and took a sip. “But those women I’ve never seen before and will never see again.” He set his whiskey aside and stepped up to her. “But that’s part of my world, part of being famous. I’m sorry if it’s strange or scary for you.”
“No, it’s not strange or scary, it’s really bloody irritating.”
“The girls in Kmart, you weren’t mad then.”
“They didn’t shove their tits in your face, kiss you, sit on your lap.”
He was quiet.
“Or ask you to go to bed with them, both of them.”
His jaw tensed. “You heard that?”
“Yes.” She was on a roll. “How would you like it if that was me and strangers wanted to touch me, join me in bed?”
“I wouldn’t, not one bit.” He paused. “But can I just point out I said no.”
“Thank God.”
“No, not God, because of you.” He rested his hands on her shoulders and set his gaze on hers. “I only want you, the way we all do. There’s only you, Liv.”
She pressed her lips together and willed the pressure in her chest to subside. The last thing she wanted was to cry. But the long day and seeing other women hitting on her men, it was all too much.
“Don’t look so sad,” he said.
She swallowed and blinked rapidly a few times.
“Damn it… if I could turn back time I would.”
“Even you can’t do that.” She took a deep breath and harnessed the inner strength she’d always been so proud of. “But what we can do is have a plan of action if it happens again.”
“Not if, when.”
“Okay, when.”
“You tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll do it. I’ll do anything for you.”
“Harry.” She slipped her hands around his waist. Some of the tension in his face and body seemed to leave him. “I’m sorry for being jealous but I can’t help it.”
“Of course you can’t, and I’m glad. If you couldn’t care less about other women throwing themselves at me, it would mean you didn’t care about me.”
She smiled, just a little, but it felt good.
“So what do you want me to do next time?”
“I don’t know, just don’t let them shove their tits at you, kiss you, hang all over you.” She brushed her hand down his t-shirt, as if removing the women’s lingering touch.
“I’ll do my best not to be groped.”
“Good.”
“But now…” he said, touching the tip of his nose to hers. “I do believe you owe me something.”
“I do?”
“Sure, that kiss from the corn roast.”
“Oh yes, that.” She looped her hands around his neck and kissed him. It was a soul-deep kiss. Part of it was claiming him, part of it was absolute love for him.
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He groaned and pulled her close; their tongues tangled and teeth touched briefly. Desire curled in her belly and heated between her legs.
“I want you,” he said.
“I want you too.”
“There’s only you in my life. No one else. And I want it to stay that way, no matter what my famous status brings. You’re one of the few people who knows me for me.” He paused. “That means a lot, and… and I love you for it.”
“You love me?”
He loves me. Harrington Vidal loves me.
“Yes, with every beat of my heart.” He tugged at her t-shirt. “Get naked so I can show you how much.”
“Wait.” She pushed it down. “I’m going to shower. I feel icky after riding all day.”
He hesitated then. “Good plan. There’s two bathrooms, you take this one, and I’ll take the en suite off the master bedroom over there.” He nipped her chin and his eyes sparkled down at her. “But don’t be long or I’ll come get you.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Olivia stood under the hot shower with her face held up to the stream of water. She closed her eyes as events of the last twenty-four hours filled her brain.
She thought of Lucas and how he’d given his virginity to her. Her sweet quiet boyfriend who could fight like a ninja had given in to desire and discovered the delights her body could give his. Then in his place Mason’s face appeared in her mind. He’d asked her three times to get closer to him, intimate with him—in the tent, in the field and then in the hotel room. Each time she’d put him off. A ball of worry churned in her stomach. She wanted Mason as much as she wanted all her guys. But it had always been bad timing. Her heart sagged further when she realized he’d hoped to be having bedroom fun with her now, when instead she was about to get naked with Harry while he was in the casino.
She tutted as she rinsed suds from her body. Soon she’d have to find a special time for her and Mason. Perhaps tomorrow, or even later on that evening.
Conscious that Harry would be waiting for her and keen to discover what lay behind the sparkle in his eyes, she stepped from the shower. As she dried and the last of the water ran down the drain she was reminded off the stream the night before in Copper Mountain. Raul had upset her so much. His sharp tongue and bad temper had ruined the evening. She’d wanted to shake him, slap him, make him go away.
No. I’d never want him to go away. I love him.
As she brushed her teeth, then her hair, an unsettled feeling fizzed in the back of her mind. Having five boyfriends was all well and good, but keeping them happy, satisfied, and in line, was not a task for the faint hearted.
“But you’re not faint hearted,” she said into the misty mirror. “You never have been and you never will be.” She tilted her chin. They might have been set physical challenges by Dante Vidal, but she, Olivia Bailey, was up for the challenge of controlling her harem. “You can do this.” She steeled her resolve.
The suite was quiet when she stepped from the bathroom. She glanced around, noticing only the table lamps were on now, and a few candles had been lit.
Her toes sank into the deep-pile carpet as she walked to the main bedroom wearing just the towel.
She pushed the door open and it released a long creak. Again the light was dim, and more candles flickered around the room. Huge black blinds had been pulled over the sloping window.
Harry sat on the bed. Like her, he had a towel around his body and he held the neckerchief he usually wore on his face.
“Come here, sexy.”
The deep timbre of his voice created a shiver that started on her inner thighs and spread upward and outward. Her skin was prickling from the hot shower and her nipples tight.
She walked over to him.
He stood.
The hairs on his chest were still a little damp and flattened to his skin. She rested her hand on them. “I love you too.”
His breathing hitched. “Liv, you don’t have to say it because I did.”
“I’m not. It’s true.”
He smiled and gave her a gentle kiss. “I’m glad.”
“This room is nice.”
“This room is perfect for what I have planned.”
“Which is what exactly?” She hardly dared ask. The curve of his mouth and the way he was looking at her reminded her of the conversation they’d had on the island when he’d said he was kinky.
‘I’d like to spank your sexy pale English ass. See the outline of my handprint on it. See it turn bright red and burning hot. So hot it feels like it’s on fire.’
His words in Kmart came rushing back to her. The shiver traveling over her body attacked her buttocks and she clenched them.
“Close your eyes,” he said, holding up the neckerchief.
“Why?”
“Because I only want you to feel, not to worry about sight.”
She hesitated.
“Removing one sense heightens the others, Liv. And I’m pretty sure you’re going to want your senses heightened.”
She closed her eyes, excitement swirling with anticipation and desire as her imagination filled with scenarios Harry might have in mind for her.
“That’s it.” He secured a knot at the crown of her head.
She fluttered her eyelids and found she could see nothing.
“Now relax and let me take you where you need to go,” he whispered.
“Harry.”
“Shh.” He ran his hands down her shoulders to her upper arms. He took hold of the towel and released the material from where she’d tucked it in on itself.
It fell to the floor with a quiet swish.
The air washed over her skin and a snake of sensation slid up her spine and across her scalp.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he said, kissing down her neck and cupping her right breast. “Everything about you, every last millimeter.”
“Harry,”
“Shh.” He tugged her nipple.
She groaned and arched toward him.
He chuckled. “Feeling greedy, huh?”
“Greedy for you… for more.”
“Oh, you’re going to get more.” He stepped back and took her hand. “Come here.”
She went to step between his legs, sensing he’d sat on the bed, but that didn’t happen.
Instead she found herself upended. “Oh!” Her belly pressed against his lap, her ass rose into the air, and she scrabbled to find something to hold on to. Eventually the side of the bed and his ankle did the job. “Harry.”
“Do you have any idea what your ass does to me?” he asked, rubbing over first her right then her left buttock. “It makes me so damn hard whenever I think of it. I want to own this ass, I want to make it mine.”
She tried to keep still but it was hard in such an oddly vulnerable position and she squirmed and wriggled.
“Keep still.” He used his free hand to pull her closer to his body and keep her secure. “This might hurt at first, but it’s good hurt.”
“What is… ouch!” She cried out.
He’d delivered a stinging slap to her right butt cheek. It wasn’t a playful swipe, he’d put real male muscle into it.
“It’s okay.” He rubbed the sting as if soothing it away. “It will make sense, Liv. I promise.”
“I don’t think you can prom—” She gasped and jerked forward.
He’d spanked her again. Every bit as hard as the first one and on the opposite buttock.
“Harry.” She shoved at him and tried to escape. But it was no good, he had a firm hold.
“Your skin is going red. So damn sexy.” Again he rubbed the pained area. “Let the heat build, it will feel so good when I fuck you and your ass is on fire.”
Behind the blindfold she stared at the blackness, though her mind was full of color—red, orange, neon-yellow.
“You’re going to count to six,” he said, his hand not leaving her ass. “Then we’re going to see if being spanked is making you wet, okay?”
She said nothi
ng. Six strikes?
“Okay?” he said again.
Wet. She couldn’t deny curiosity had gotten to her. Because as he massaged her ass the throbbing sensation was spreading through her pelvis and becoming quite pleasant. “Yes, okay.”
“Count, starting now.” He brought his hand down on her right buttock.
“One.” She’d pushed forward as the slap had made contact, and this time her clit had rubbed against his thigh. She groaned.
“That’s it, you’re doing so well.”
Another spank.
“Two.” She bit on her bottom lip. The ache was filling her pussy now. It was a burning hot aching need to be filled.
“Three.” She was becoming aware of the air shifting a fraction of a second before each slap. “Four.”
The last one had been a hard strike on already burning flesh. She arched her back and bit on her bottom lip.
“Nearly there,” he said, excitement in his voice. “Fucking hell, Liv, you’re doing it.”
He struck again.
“Five.” This time she welcomed the white-hot fingers of heat that spread on her flesh. The pain was layering up and becoming a mass of sensation, as he’d promised. She groaned and again rubbed her clit on his hard leg. “I want to come.”
“You will.” He paused as he stroked her cheeks. “Last one.”
She braced for the final spank.
It came hard and fast and she bucked and yelped.
“Shh, calm down.” He ran his hand up her back and tickled his fingers through her hair. He then slipped his touch down her spine, through the cleft of her buttocks to her pussy. “Let’s see how turned on a spanking has made you.”
She whimpered as his big fingers slid through her wet folds.
“Jeez,” he murmured. “Kinky little minx, aren’t you.”
She gripped the bed sheets tighter and curled her toes. Her clit was buzzing and her pussy felt almost painfully empty. “Harry.”
“Is this what you want?” He eased into her dampness, two fingers at least, stretching her and filling her.
“Yes… oh, Harry, more.”
“More what? Spanking?”
“Anything. More. Fuck me. More.” Her brain had fuddled. This was her need talking. Lust was in control.
He pulled out. Another spank rained down, then another.