Oh, yeah. Screw waiting.
Harlow steered her BMW into the parking garage at the Metropolitan and parked in her allotted space. The garage was brightly lit, her heels clacking out a steady rhythm as she made for the elevator and got in, cell phone in hand. Calling Connor outright seemed a little presumptuous, so she bit her lip and tried to strategize. A text would work, she reasoned, stepping into the elevator and putting her keycard into the slot for residents. At the very least, it would put the ball in his court.
Hi. Nothing urgent, but when you’re able, could you give me a call? There’s something I’d like to talk to you about.
Juggling the phone with her laptop bag, she pulled her keys from their usual pocket so she could have them at the ready. As soon as the elevator doors slid open at her floor, she hit send, and before she could get her phone all the way back into her bag, it rang in her hand.
Her heart did a flawless impression of a jackhammer. “You didn’t have to call me now,” she blurted, and great, she was off to an awesome start.
“You said you needed me, right?” Connor asked, the noise in the background suggesting he’d ducked to the back of the bar to call her. “So here I am.”
Oh. Harlow’s fingers trembled as she pressed her key into the lock on her front door. “It’s not…um, important,” she said, her cheeks burning.
“You mentioned that,” he said. “So, what’s up?”
She straightened, hitting the light switch and lowering her bag to the slim table in her foyer. She’d never been a shrinking violet. Starting now wasn’t on her agenda, even if this was the most unusual negotiation she’d ever started.
“I actually have a proposition for you. Is now a good time?” He’d sounded sober so far, and it was barely nine thirty. But she wanted to be sure.
As if he’d read her mind, Connor chuckled and said, “I’ve only had two beers, Harlow, and I’ve been here for two hours. I’m fine.”
“Good.” Relief rode out of her lungs on the breath she just realized she’d been holding. “I’ll cut right to the chase, then. I know you and I had a bit of a rocky start, but I had a really good time with you at the batting cages, and I can’t deny being very attracted to you. We work together, which isn’t ideal, but we’re also both professional, and we’re adults. So”—she paused for an inhale to meter her pulse—“if you’re open to it, I’d like to spend some personal time with you. Specifically, having sex. I’m not looking for anything serious,” Harlow clarified. “But, as long as we can agree on a few particulars, yes. That is what I’m proposing.”
A minute slid off the clock, then another, filled only by the sounds of ambient bar noise and Harlow’s heartbeat, thudding in her ears.
Finally, she couldn’t bear it any longer. “Connor? Are you still there?”
“I am very, very here.” His voice had gone low and rough and, oh God, it made the space between her thighs tighten with heat. “Let me make sure I’ve got this right. You want to have casual sex. With me.”
“As long as it doesn’t affect our ability to work together and we remain one hundred percent professional at the clinic. Oh, and we use condoms,” Harlow added, not wanting to take anything for granted. “Then, yes. I do. But if you don’t think—”
“Where are you right now?”
The question was all demand. “Home,” Harlow breathed. “Why?”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
Oh, holy shit. “I take it that’s a yes?”
Connor’s chuckle was back, lighting her all the way up. “That’s a hell yes. Now, do you want to make me look up your address in the clinic’s database, or are you going to give it to me?”
“I’ll text it to you.”
“I’ll drive fast.”
They ended the call and she texted him her address, along with the guest code for the parking garage. She called down to the doorman to let him know she had a guest on the way and to send Connor up when he arrived. Her heart began to race at the thought, prompting a laugh to spill past her lips.
This was crazy. It was impulsive. But it was casual sex, not some emotional tell-all, and God, there was no question they both wanted it.
Still, Harlow hadn’t expected him to come over now. She thought she’d have time to plan this out. Should she stay in her work clothes or change? Offer him a drink when he got here? A tour of her condo? Was there protocol for this sort of thing?
A solid knock sounded off on her front door a few minutes later, and guess she was going to wing it in her work clothes. Taking a deep breath to counter the anticipation rising in her chest, she double-checked the peephole before twisting the knob to open the door.
“Hi,” she said, unable to deny the breathless sound of her voice as she stepped back to wordlessly invite Connor inside.
His mouth skirted the boundaries of a smile, his eyes brimming with intensity. “Hi.”
The second she shut the door, his mouth was on hers.
18
Connor knew he should slow down. Harlow had made it clear that she didn’t want anything serious, but that still didn’t mean he should forego all decorum. He should ease out of the kiss, at least enough to greet her properly. He should tell her how glad—albeit shocked as shit—he was that she’d called, because he’d been thinking of her all night, just as he had for the past weeks’ worth of nights.
But then she moaned into his mouth, her body melting against his, and nope.
He wasn’t fucking slowing down.
Connor captured her face between his palms, letting his fingers hook in her hair. The silky strands brushed over his knuckles as they loosened from the knot at the back of her head, and he held her even closer, wanting more.
Harlow didn’t hesitate to give it. Her hands found his shoulders, closing over the fabric of his shirt to anchor them together. When he swept his tongue over the seam of her lips, she parted them eagerly. But it only took a beat before she balanced it out by sweeping back, taking the lead by matching his movements.
“Do you know,” Connor said, because he had to do something other than lift her skirt and lower his jeans and fuck her senseless in her foyer, “how much I’ve wanted to do this all week?”
Her gasp of surprise vibrated against his mouth, not helping at all in the want-you-now department. “Really? Why didn’t you?”
“It was your move.”
Well, that got her. “Are you serious?” Harlow asked, pulling back to blink at him with those big, blue eyes. “You were just waiting for me to say something?”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “You were the one who said we should stick to business, so I wanted to respect that. Even though I wanted you.”
Harlow didn’t respond. Instead, she grabbed his hand and turned on one heel to move deeper into her—whoa, humongous—condo.
“Where are we going?” Connor asked, the determined set of her shoulders beneath that sheer pink top of hers turning him on harder than any scrap of fabric had a right to.
“My bedroom. We have an entire week’s worth of time to make up for, and I’m done waiting.”
Something dark and hot and very, very primal rose up from a spot in his rib cage he hadn’t known existed until now, and he stopped short, gripping her fingers as he tugged her in close.
“If we’re not waiting”—Connor kissed her, sliding the edge of his teeth over her bottom lip with just enough pressure to make her shiver against him—“then I want to make you come right here.”
He walked her backward to the nearest wall, although it was one of the few in the main space of her open-concept condo. The only light came from the single overhead she’d turned on by the front door, far enough behind to offer only a soft glow, and the twinkling lights of the city in the distance. Later, he’d have to admire what was surely a stunning view from the floor-to-ceiling windows spanning the entire far wall.
Right now, he was going to enjoy something much, much better.
Lowering his mouth to Harlow’s neck and his
hands to her waist, he kissed the column of her neck until she sighed in approval. She leaned her head back against the wall, her pretty eyes drifting shut, and Connor placed a wicked smile on her skin.
“I’ve wondered what you look like caught up in pleasure since the day you pulled me into that boardroom,” he confessed, kissing a trail to her shoulder, then her collarbone.
Her smile in return went right to his already aching cock. She fluttered her eyes open, her gaze raking over his arms. “I’ve wondered how far up your tattoos go since then, too.”
Thinking twice wasn’t even an option. Hell, when she looked at him like that, Connor could barely think at all.
He yanked the cotton free from his jeans, lifting his hands in invitation. “Go ahead and find out.”
Connor realized, a beat too late, how bold the move would make her. Harlow’s eyes glittered in the scant light, and she curled her fingers over the hem of his shirt, yanking swiftly upward to relieve him of the thing in one fluid motion.
Her stare was fucking worth it.
Her gaze moved over his bare skin, but she might as well have been touching him for how much he felt it. She took in the ink that covered him from wrists to shoulders, then fanned her lashes down, from his chest to his abs, then lower. His cock had to be easily visible against his jeans—he was hard as goddamn titanium. The flare of Harlow’s eyes confirmed things, and before Connor could reach out to touch her, she’d planted both hands at his hips, swinging him around and dropping to her knees in front of him.
“I’m supposed to be making you come,” he ground out. Ah, hell.
But she just smiled up at him, her fingers working quickly over the button and zipper on his jeans, brushing against his throbbing dick and driving him insane in the best possible way. “I don’t want to wait, either. And this”—she grasped the top of his boxer briefs, making his cock jerk at her nearness—“really”—she slid the cotton down, exposing him inch by inch—“really turns me on.”
Connor didn’t reply. He couldn’t, because Harlow had parted her lips over his cock, and the heat of her mouth made him brainless.
“Oh, fuck,” he grunted, cursing again when he felt her mouth shape into a smile. She pulled back, almost to the very tip, before taking him deeper, repeating the slow, torturous, utterly perfect process again, then again. He rested one hand on her shoulder, the other oh-so gently on the top of her head. He couldn’t risk any more contact than that. He was already damned close to embarrassing himself as it was.
But then she looked up at him, her face flushed and her hair wild, and damn it, she had to stop.
“I don’t want to,” Harlow said softly, making him realize he’d spoken out loud. The words weren’t bossy or demanding; in fact, they were far from it, almost as if she were asking and offering permission for him to lose himself at the same time. And that was when it hit Connor point blank in the chest.
What she wanted—what she needed—was to be in control.
Christ, there was no resisting her.
Connor pressed his shoulders against the wall, arching forward enough to grant her all the access she wanted.
She didn’t wait to take it. Chasing the movement of her mouth with one hand, Harlow worked his cock in flawless sucks and strokes, each one sending shockwaves up his spine. The fact that she was fully dressed and he was damn near close, other than the loss of his shirt, made the whole scenario even hotter, and he gave in to the urge to thrust against her lips. She moaned in reply, sending a familiar sensation from his balls to his lust-fogged brain.
“Harlow,” he warned. But she didn’t stop. Hell, she didn’t even slow, her tenacity shoving him right past the point of no return. His orgasm rushed up and gripped him all at once, the pleasure of it so fucking intense that for a second, he couldn’t breathe. Harlow stayed right there with him, though, carrying him through every second and swallowing him down until he had nothing left to give.
She slowed a few seconds later, softening her touch until it was feather-light, and her slower touches guided him back to capable thought. But as much as she craved composure, Connor wanted to wreck hers, to discover what she looked like when she tumbled over the edge into the sort of pleasure she’d just given.
He’d wanted that from the beginning. And now, he was going to have it.
Before Harlow could speak, he’d hauled her to her feet. Hiking his jeans back over his hips—at least enough to walk—he grabbed her hand and led her down the hallway they’d been headed toward before their detour.
“Last door,” Harlow breathed, her voice husky and low. Connor crossed the threshold, unable to tell much about the darkened room other than the fact that it was huge and there was—oh, thank God—a king-sized bed in the middle of the back wall. He pulled Harlow to him, kissing her once before walking her right up to the mattress.
“My turn,” he said. She didn’t protest. Dropping his fingers to the buttons on her shirt, he worked the tiny things through their buttonholes, exercising the patience of every saint ever canonized until the delicate fabric gave way to a satiny bra that made his mouth water.
“Damn. Harlow, you’re beautiful.” Connor traced a finger over the tiny bow between her breasts, a spike of dirty satisfaction moving through him when she arched into the touch, seeking more.
“You can barely see me,” she pointed out, making him laugh.
“I can see enough. But maybe”—he made quick work of the zipper on her skirt, sliding it to the floor before returning to her bra straps to give them the same treatment. Better—“I should taste you, just to be sure.”
The noise Harlow made when Connor dipped his mouth to her nipple was easily the sexiest thing he had ever heard, enough that he let out a moan to twine around the sound. Arousal rebuilt, deep in his belly, and he kicked out of his boots, then his jeans. Determined to take his time—or, at the very least, make a decent effort not to rip off her panties and sink directly into the heat of her pussy—he returned his attention to her breasts, working her nipples with both his mouth and his fingers until her voice broke over his name.
“Connor. Please.”
How one tiny syllable could wreck him so thoroughly, he really had no clue. But in less than a blink, he’d reclaimed his jeans to retrieve a condom from the back pocket, and in less than a breath, he’d angled Harlow over the bed.
Placing the condom nearby on the bedspread, he lay down beside her. Now that she didn’t have the advantage of the stilettos she’d (regrettably) slipped out of, Connor eclipsed her in both height and sheer size. He skated a hand over her belly, pausing only briefly at the top of her panties before sliding the satiny fabric from her hips to find the even softer skin that had been beneath.
Fuuuuuuck. She was wet and hot and trembling with want, and this was going to take willower he did not possess.
And so he didn’t bother trying to hold back. Connor thrust a finger deep between her thighs, testing for only a stroke before adding another. Harlow arched off the bed, her inner muscles clenching as she let out a cry, and with a swift turn of his wrist, his thumb centered over her clit, pressing a hard circle over her slick folds.
“That’s it,” he said when she lifted her hips to keep their contact steady. “Get good and wet for me, sweetheart.”
She was already there, though, and he wanted to be inside of her like starving men wanted a nine-course meal. Shifting so he could reach the condom, he made the fastest work ever of stripping off his boxer briefs to get the thing properly in place. Harlow made a noise of displeasure that it required the use of both his hands, but then he pressed her thighs wide and knelt between them, and then all seemed to have been forgiven.
She canted her hips up, seeking contact. Connor slid a finger over her bare pussy, causing a shudder that inspired him to move closer and replace his finger with his cock.
He dragged himself over her clit in an easy glide, and it was a testament to his restraint that he didn’t fill her up. “Show me what I want to see,�
� he told her, a bolt of dirty want expanding in his gut when she tilted her hips, letting him slide his shaft over her slick, sensitive skin.
“Oh, God. Connor, that’s…” Her knees fell wider, and when she surrendered control, he took it.
“Show me, Harlow.” He thrust against her faster, just shy of penetration. But he was on a fucking mission, now. “Show me how pretty you are when you come on my cock. Let me in.”
Harlow bowed up, closer…closer… “Now. Now, now. I’m—”
Connor slammed into her just as she broke apart. Her hands were wild on his hips, her palms pressed flat over his ass to keep his cock all the way inside of her as her inner muscles grasped and released. She thrust against him, taking every ounce of her pleasure before going lax, and Christ, of all the ways he’d imagined she would look, this was something else entirely.
He wanted it again.
Taking care that he didn’t crush her, he leaned forward to balance his weight over Harlow’s body, relying on his forearms and knees. The move brought their chests flush, and the feel of her tight nipples rasping against his chest made his breath move faster in his lungs. She felt so good beneath him that getting lost in her was easy. They rocked against each other, testing out rhythms and subtle shifts in position. Each movement brought Connor closer to what he wanted, what he fucking craved, and finally, they were both right there on the edge again.
But before Connor could tumble over and take Harlow with him, she’d hooked one leg firmly around his waist and rolled him to his back. The change in position let her control their motions, and watching her take what she needed, while giving it right back to him, was the hottest, most erotic thing Connor had ever goddamn seen.
“Harlow,” he grated, his hands finding the tops of her thighs and his eyes locked on the spot where his cock was buried deep. “God. So good. You’re so fucking beautiful like this.”
“Connor.” Her whisper became a sigh, then a pleasured moan. Her lips parted on a soundless gasp as she trembled all around him, and he was fucking lost. His orgasm kicked through him as Harlow came, too. Connor called out her name, his breath eventually slowing with his heartbeat and her movements, until finally, she collapsed in a heap on top of him.
Between Me & You: An Enemies to Lovers Workplace Romance (Remington Medical Book 3) Page 18