by Tillie Cole
“Harry, have you read many of Faith’s columns?” Mom asked, when he could breathe again.
“Some,” he said, a faint blush building on his cheeks.
“She’s fabulous, is she not?” Papa said. “Such a creative way of dealing with such complex problems.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Harry said and tapped my hand. As he moved his hand away, I felt the searing heat still on my skin like it had been branded.
“She wants features at some point, don’t you, Faith?” Mom said and I felt my stomach sink. They didn’t know about the big feature of course. As open-minded as they were, I wasn’t sure it was something they would like to hear about. Mom, Papa, for the past several weeks I’ve been placed in stocks and ravished every which way to Sunday by a sexual master in a Phantom of the Opera mask.
“She mentioned that,” Harry said.
“One day,” Papa said, echoing Harry’s words, and smiled my way.
“So, how did you both meet?” Harry asked my parents, and the conversation trickled on from there. Over two courses and after-dinner coffee, conversation flowed. In the two hours spent at my parents’ house, I had never seen him so relaxed. I’d never seen him smile so much.
“Lucio, I’ll be seeing you sometime this week,” he said and shook Papa’s hand. “I know quite a few businessmen in Manhattan who would pay good money to have their suits tailored to your high standard. I’ll send them your way.”
“Grazie,” Papa said, his voice thick with gratitude.
“Okay, let’s go,” I said to Harry, pressing my hand on his lower back. I had to vacate the apartment quickly or become a broken, emotional mess at the sight of Papa so happy with Harry’s promise.
“Lovely to meet you, Harry. I hope you’ll come again,” Mom said affectionately. I could see by her moon eyes she was already smitten with Harry.
“I’d love that,” Harry said, and I felt every ounce of genuineness at those words.
With a wave to my parents, Harry took my arm and linked it through his. His gaze dared me to argue with him over the gesture. I made a show of pretending to fasten my mouth shut with an invisible lock. He tipped his head up to the sky. “Good Lord, I believe today we have witnessed a miracle. Faith Parisi is not offering her usual sarcasm to my chivalry. Thank you.” It took all that I was not to make a wisecrack to that, but I refrained.
As we descended the steps, Harry held tightly onto my hand. “Just wanted to make sure you don’t trip and fall headfirst on to the sidewalk. You seem to fall a lot in my presence.”
I tried to hold my tongue, I truly did, but it was too much to hold back. “Harry Sinclair, I can’t help it, your animal magnetism shakes the very ground you walk on, and I just cannot help but fall at your feet.”
He released a heavy sigh. “Well, it was good while it lasted.”
The sun started to set, casting a pink summer’s glow over the city. Harry opened the car door for me, and I stepped inside. That fluttering feeling was back underneath my sternum. It had taken me a while to get there, but I realized what it was when Harry slid into the driver’s side and gave me that wide smile he only seemed to offer in my presence.
I liked him.
Holy shit.
I liked him a lot.
Harry pulled out onto the street. “You are very lucky, Faith,” he said after a few minutes of silence. I was mute, frozen in shock at the truth that was smacking me in the face. I liked Harry. Oh my god, I was falling for Harry Sinclair. “To have parents like you have.” He swallowed the thickness in his voice. “The way they love you. Care for you. Take an interest in your life and work.” Harry’s eyes, which were firmly fixed on the road, were glistening.
“Thank you,” I said quietly, not wanting to interrupt the soothing stillness that had built up in the car. “I love them so much.” I thought of Papa’s situation and felt like crying.
“Faith?” Harry said and laid his hand on my thigh. In that moment, it was as warming as a tight embrace. “Is everything okay with your father? His health…”
“His health is fine.” I stared out the window at New York. At the hustling and bustling that teemed from every street and nook. Passing people who had problems of their own. Highs and lows and everything in between.
“You can talk to me. If you’re upset, I want to help you. I want to listen, if that’s what you need.”
“You do?” I asked and looked at Harry. I needed to know if he felt anything for me too. If he was falling just as quickly and deeply as I was. “Why?”
Harry’s jaw clenched, and the muscles in his forearms tensed when his grip tightened on the wheel. “You must know,” he whispered. “I’m not an actor, Faith. With you, I feel I have failed completely in hiding my affection.”
I smiled. Because he had hidden it. But not lately. Not in certain moments in the elevator. Not in the hospital, and certainly not today. I covered his hand, which was on my thigh. It felt so right, like it had always been.
“He is losing his shop,” I said, for once actually saying the words aloud. I had denied them for so long, prayed for an answer, a miracle. But I knew there wasn’t one. Papa was going to lose his shop. Maybe more. “Many years ago he took on a partner.” I thought of Ludovico and imagined castrating that fucker with a serrated knife. Yeah, I got real dark when it came to people who messed with those I loved. “My papa trusted him. Loved him like a brother.”
“What happened?”
I ran my finger over Harry’s fingers, which were laid protectively over my knee. “Last year he ran, taking all of Papa’s savings from the shop. Everything. He left them with absolutely nothing but rising debt and a trail of empty bank accounts.” I shook my head, fighting the anger that was rising inside. “Papa has been fighting to keep the shop, working as much as he can, but with all his money gone…” I quickly wiped a tear that had escaped my eye.
“He has been given a little bit of time to pay the back rent. But he won’t be able to make it up. We all know that, we just never dare speak the truth aloud.” Lifting Harry’s hand, I kissed the back of it. “You lit up his world today with your compliments. With saying you would use him as a tailor and recommend him to your business friends. He would be happy in life if all he had was me and Mom and his shop. Not money or accolades, not a fancy apartment or the best car. It’s not who he is. Thank you for making him feel special today. I can’t tell you what it means to me too.”
“It’s the very least I can do.” Our hands were clasped, and I stroked his fingers and the back of his hand before bringing it to my lips. Harry’s breathing deepened and the ambient calm that had filled the car quickly crackled and became live with electricity.
“Harry,” I said, at last, my voice hoarse with need.
“Yes?”
“How far away is your apartment?”
“It’s close,” he said, his voice equally tight.
“Good.”
Chapter Fourteen
Harry’s foot pressed on the gas, and we zipped like lightning through the New York streets. We entered the Upper East Side, and I kept my face straight forward when we passed NOX. The fantasy of NOX and Maître had no place in my heart tonight. It was Harry that filled every inch. NOX was a mirage. Harry was real.
We were only two blocks from NOX when he turned right and we entered an underground parking lot. Harry pulled into the spot reserved for the penthouse. As the car ground to a halt and the engine cut out, we both gathered our breaths. Harry left the car and came around to my side. He held out his hand. I put mine in his, the butterflies in my stomach swooping in hordes, breaking free from their confines and flooding the rest of my body.
Hand in hand, Harry took me to the private elevator to the penthouse. We stepped inside, the doors shut, and the elevator began to rise. Second after strained second passed by, the air in the small space growing hotter and hotter until I thought I would lose my ability to breathe in the stifling heat.
Harry stood beside me, as still and as s
toic as a marble statue. This close I could smell the addictive scent of his cologne—the mint, the sandalwood, and the musk. It was driving me insane. I clenched my thighs together, trying to stop the pressure from building as high as the penthouse floor we chased. In my peripheral vision, I saw Harry’s chest rise and fall at a heady speed. His hand in mine twitched, his jaw clenched, and when I saw the hardness in his pants, I moaned aloud.
That was all it took. That one rebel sigh from my throat caused Harry to snap. He came barreling toward me, pushing me back against the elevator wall, and he crashed his mouth into mine. In mere seconds, he was everywhere. His scent, his taste, and the press of his hard, warm body smothered my every inch. Gone was the prim and proper Harry Sinclair, and in his place was a man wild and intent on bringing me to my knees. His lips moved against mine, his tongue slipping into my mouth, as his hands searched my body, as they roved over every curve, causing me to moan and roll my head back at the feel of finally being under his ministrations.
The ding of the elevator sounded, but Harry didn’t stop kissing me. Instead, he picked me up, wrapping my legs around his waist. My eyes were closed as he guided us through the apartment. I didn’t even see what it looked like; I was too busy undoing the buttons of his shirt. One by one, they opened and my hands brushed against his hard-muscled chest. Harry rolled up the skirt of my dress higher and higher until his hands landed on my lace panties.
“Fuck, Faith,” he moaned against my lips, and I groaned at hearing a cuss word pour from Harry’s mouth. His shirt open, I stroked my palm along his chest, his torso, and down to the bulge in his pants. “Fuck!” Harry said louder, as we crashed onto a soft mattress, my hand still cupping his dick. I didn’t even have time to catch my breath before he ripped his shirt off and climbed above me, chest bared and the button and zipper of his jeans open.
“You’re ripped,” I whispered, and Harry took hold of my dress and yanked it down my arms. He rolled the body-con material down over my stomach and off my legs, leaving me in my black lace panties and bra set.
“Christ, Faith,” he said, biting his bottom lip as he stared down at me. “You’re perfect. How are you this perfect? Like you were made for me.” I didn’t get a chance to respond as Harry kissed me again, broke from my mouth, and traced a hot path down my neck to my breasts. A trail of goosebumps shadowed the journey.
Harry reared back his head, his blue eyes appearing black from how blown with lust his pupils had become. With a gentleness that contradicted his wild eyes, Harry pulled down each strap of my bra until my breasts spilled out. Growling at the sight of me, he lowered his head and took a nipple into his mouth.
My hands threaded into his hair. I pulled on the soft strands, and when I did, he sucked harder. I yanked again, the pleasure he was inciting coursing through my veins like lava, setting me on fire. The more I pulled, the more savage he became. As I pulled for a third time, Harry lightly bit my nipple, causing my clit to throb and my back to arch. I rolled my hips, desperate for relief. Not making me wait, Harry pressed his fingers between my legs. I cried out at how good it felt.
“Harry. God, Harry!” I moaned and Harry suddenly sat back.
I reached out and tried to pull him back. I needed more. I needed everything Harry Sinclair could give. I wanted it all. I wanted him to consume me, devour me, own my damn soul.
Harry’s talented hands took hold of my panties and ripped them apart at the seams. “Oh, God!” I said as he tossed them over his shoulder, and he slammed his gaze to mine. There was a fraction of a pause. A heaving inhale, then Harry crawled over me, taking my mouth with his. The hardness in his jeans pressed between my legs, and I arched my back at the feel of him. He was huge.
Harry slipped down my neck, kissing my glistening skin. He tortured me with sweet kisses to my throat, my breasts, my stomach. I widened my legs, leaving no doubt of what I wanted and where I wanted him.
Harry moved lower, and I sighed feeling his hot breath between my legs. He placed his hands on the tops of my inner thighs then leaned in. I bowed my back at the first swipe of his tongue. My hands threaded through his hair, ready to guide him where I needed him. But no guidance was needed. Harry knew just where to go, his tongue flicking at my clit, his finger slipping inside my channel. In no time at all I felt my skin prickle and pressure build at the base of my spine with the oncoming orgasm.
“Harry, fuck! I’m gonna come,” I said, rushing out the word, just as he moved his finger, pressing on my G-spot and blackening out my world. I screamed my release, moving my hips so Harry’s tongue stayed where I needed him until my body jerked, unable to take any more. Harry lifted his head, pressing kiss after kiss to my inner thighs and my hips.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said, that accent in that raspy voice my undoing. Rolling to my knees, I pulled on his arm and pushed him down to the bed. It was my turn. When I was kneeling above him, I looked down at Harry and took my fill. Cut muscles, broad shoulders, olive skin, and those crystal blue eyes. Perfection.
Then my eyes moved to his crotch and the bulge that was threatening to bust through his jeans. With his button and zipper already undone, I pulled them down his legs, muscled thighs greeting me. I ran my hand over them, the dusting of black hairs tickling my palm.
“Do I have rugby to thank for these?” I said.
“Among other things,” Harry replied, eyes flaring as I threw the jeans to the floor. I unclasped my bra and threw it down alongside it. “Christ, Faith,” Harry hissed, and I moved my hands to the waistband of his boxer briefs as his palms kneaded my breasts.
“Calvin’s,” I said and kissed the brand name. “I approve.” With Harry’s teeth clenched so tightly I thought his jaw might break, I pulled down his boxers, swallowing when his length slapped against his stomach.
“Harry,” I whispered and threw his boxers over my shoulder. “You’re fucking huge.” Harry lifted himself up, placed his hands on my face, and smashed his lips to mine.
“I need inside you,” he said, the authority in his voice making me squirm.
“Not before I taste you.” I pushed him back to the mattress. His back hit the bed, eyes narrowing.
“You’re going to pay for that, Miss Parisi,” Harry said. I ignored his heated warning and kissed along his stomach and his defined V. I licked at the mouth-watering muscle then moved along to his hardness. It twitched in anticipation as I grew closer, and I licked the vein that lay on the side. From root to tip, I caressed it with my mouth. Harry’s hands clenched at his sides until his fingers threaded through my hair, wrapping it around his hands. The touch felt familiar somehow.
“Faith,” he said like he was in pain. “Suck my cock.”
“Yes, sir,” I said, loving watching his eyes bore into mine as I moved my lips over the tip and took him into my mouth. He was too big to take him all, so I moved my hand to the base of his dick and worked him there too. Harry lifted his hips, but like the gentleman he was, he held off from giving me too much. I lapped my tongue around his tip, taking him as deeply as I could, until Harry guided my face away. “Stop. I need to fuck you. I want to finally come inside you.”
“Harry,” I murmured and crawled over his ridiculously perfect body. “Keep speaking to me like that. I like this version of you.”
Harry grabbed hold of my arms and flipped me over. He reached into his bedside table and pulled out a condom. I watched, mesmerized, as he slipped it on and moved above me. “It’s you,” he said, in a moment of pure tenderness. “I’m only like this because of you.”
“Harry,” I whispered, my heart shattering into tiny particles and vanishing into the night.
Harry positioned himself at my entrance and, pressing his lips to mine, pushed inside. I moaned into his mouth; he groaned into mine. I wrapped my arms around his corded neck and my legs around his waist. I cried out when he filled me to the hilt.
“Mm,” I moaned when he started moving, hitting every perfect part inside me. My breasts pressed against his chest,
creating friction as he rocked back and forth, and my body felt ablaze, lit up from the white-hot sensations coursing through me.
“Harry,” I moaned again as he tucked his head in the crook of my neck and increased his speed. He thrust and thrust until I was a body filled with nothing but pleasure. My eyes rolled closed as I held him tighter, starting to feel flickers of the deep orgasm that was building. “Harry,” I cried, biting into his shoulder as my legs began to tremble.
He growled at the bite then lifted his head, his eyes locking on mine. That was all it took for me to break apart, fireworks exploding around me. Harry repeatedly slammed into me until I was nothing but putty in his arms.
“Faith, fuck Faith…FUCK!” he shouted then closed his eyes, his teeth gritting together as he came. I stared at him as he orgasmed, sure I’d never seen anything more perfect in my life.
“Fuck!” he groaned again, his voice echoing in the room around us. His body boasted a sheen of sweat, and his dark waves were unkempt from my roaming hands pulling at the strands. His lips were swollen from kissing, and his cheeks were flushed from coming so hard. I moaned when he twitched inside me. I was exhausted yet still craving whatever else he wanted to give.
I fought for breath in the aftermath. Harry lay over me, his weight keeping me safe. Then he pressed his forehead to mine before pulling out of me and rolling to the side. He took me with him, his arm cradling me to him like he couldn’t stand to be apart even for a second. My stupid romantic heart liked that. It liked that too much.
I ran my hand up and down his flat stomach, his chest rising and falling, breathless. Lifting myself up on my elbow, I stared down at him. I smiled at him and, laughing, Harry smiled back. “It’s always the quiet ones,” I said and Harry rolled his eyes. I traced the pattern of the black hairs that dusted over his chest. I kissed along his pecs to the base of his throat. Harry tilted his head back, giving me more access, hissing when my tongue flicked out and tasted his salty skin.