After he left yesterday and I took my stuff through to my room, I remembered I still had the iPhone. I powered it up and found numerous messages from the day before when I ignored his demand to call him, but I also found one from a few seconds before, telling me he was looking forward to seeing me again tonight. My insistence that I didn’t want the damn cell phone flew out the window as I texted him back. We’ve exchanged a few messages since, and each time I see his name on the screen, my stomach does a little flip.
When I look up, there’s a black town car coming to a stop out the front. I stay where am and watch as the back door opens and Harrison steps out. He looks like he should be on a movie set as he does up his jacket before pulling on his sleeves. His dark suit is crisp and expensive looking, his hair is styled perfectly and he’s clean-shaven. I glance down at myself and pray I look good enough to be standing next to him.
I don’t have long to question it because only seconds later, there’s a knock at the front door.
Smoothing down my dress and grabbing my purse from the table, I make my way towards him.
I blow out a big breath before pulling the door open. The second I do, his scent engulfs me. That, combined with staring into his eyes, makes my knees a little weak.
“Ready?” he asks after clearing his throat and running his eyes over every inch of me, making my temperature soar.
“Yes.” My voice comes out as an unsure whisper, so I repeat myself.
“You look beautiful,” he says as he shuts the door for me before reaching for my hand.
“Thank you. You’re looking pretty sharp yourself.”
“It’s nothing compared to you.”
The second he settles next to me, I have a huge desire to straddle his lap and continue where we left off yesterday. My fingers dig in to the leather to keep myself in place. When he looks over at me, his eyes dance in amusement and I blush as I realise my thoughts are written all over my face.
“There’s plenty of time for that, Manhattan,” he says as he places his palm on my bare thigh. His skin burns and I feel tingles zero in between my legs. I fight the urge to shift in my seat to try to put a stop to them, but I don’t do a very good job. “Shit, you’re killing me,” he whispers in my ear, his voice deep and husky. Goosebumps race down my neck as his breath caresses my exposed skin.
When I look over, I see his previous amusement is gone, replaced by heat and desire. I’ve no idea how we’re going to get through dinner at this rate.
“Where are we going?” I ask when I see we’re heading back towards the strip. I was praying he’d remember me not wanting to eat at the hotel the other morning and pick somewhere a little farther out, but it doesn’t seem that way.
“It’s a surprise,” he says with a wink.
The tension is thick as we sit silently next to each other. Our only contact is his hand on my thigh. I stare out the window, trying to guess where we’re going, but I don’t know Vegas all that well. I’ve pretty much worked and slept since being here. Exploring the place hasn’t been very high on my to do list.
When we start to drive away from all the lights, I breathe a sigh of relief. I look over at him to find he’s staring back at me. His eyes have softened and he’s got a sexy little smile on his face.
“I didn’t think you’d want a big fancy restaurant.”
I shake my head. “Thank you.”
I drag my eyes away from him when I feel the car come to a stop, and smile when I see a little Italian in front of me. It’s perfect and exactly the kind of place I’d pick—if I ever went out to dinner, that is.
We’re shown to our table and Harrison pulls my seat out for me before ordering a bottle of wine I’ve never heard of.
“Is white okay?” he asks when he sees the confusion on my face.
“I guess. I’ve never had any.”
“You’ve never drank wine?”
“No. I don’t really drink. It’s only since I’ve moved here that I’ve tried a few cocktails.”
“Looks like I’ve got plenty of things to introduce you to, then.”
I shouldn’t be as excited as I am by his words. He’s here for business; we’ve got a limited amount of time. He shouldn’t be talking like that, and I definitely shouldn’t be thinking it’s any more than it is.
“Where are you from in England?” I ask, pushing my previous thoughts to the back of my mind where they belong.
“London.”
“I’ve always wanted to go to London. My grandad was British. He used to tell me all about Buckingham Palace and the Queen. I’d love to see it in more than just pictures.”
“I’ve lived there all my life, so I guess I don’t see the excitement, but it is a great city. Where was your grandad from?”
I shake my head, “I can’t remember.” Thoughts of my grandad put a little damper on my spirits. I miss him terribly. “I think it was pretty central, though. I used to love his accent, and he’d teach me all the slang. Dog and bone, apples and pears,” I say, remembering a couple he would use.
Harrison laughs and the sound warms me from the inside out. “You know we don’t actually talk like that, right?”
“Of course.”
“What about you? You said you were from Manhattan—what did you do before moving here?”
“I was in college, but I also worked in our local shop.”
Our food arrives and distracts our conversation. I’m pleased because I felt like the family question was coming next, and I really don’t want to talk about that. I have a great family; they’re kind and caring, but that wasn’t enough for me. My desire to go to art school wasn’t shared by my old fashioned parents, which is why as soon as I turned twenty-one, I left. Not only am I their only girl, but I’m also the youngest. I’ve been overprotected by my parents and my brothers my whole life. They weren’t happy to say the least when I announced I was leaving.
When we’ve finished our desserts, I ask the one question I’ve been trying to put off. “How long are you here for?”
“A few more days,” he admits after a few moments of silence. “It could be extended, I’m sure.”
“Don’t you have to be back for work?” I regret the question the second it leaves my lips, because it makes me sound like I don’t want him here.
“Everyone is more than capable without me. Are you finished?” he asks, changing the subject.
“Yes, it was delicious. Thank you.”
Harrison asks for the cheque, and I’m suddenly very nervous. What’s going to happen next? Talk of our lives and his limited time here has put a damper on my earlier desire. Of course I still want him, but I’m suddenly very aware that the more time I spend with him, the more I’m beginning to fall for him, and it’s only going to hurt that much more when he leaves.
My hand shakes a little in his as I follow him out towards our waiting car. The anticipation of what’s next starts to get the better of me. Harrison must feel it, because the second we’re in the back of the car, he turns to me.
“Where would you like to go next?” he asks with a reassuring smile.
I think about my options, but there’s only really one answer for me. “My place.”
“Okay.” I listen as he tells the driver where we’re going before he turns back to me.
“Stop overthinking, Summer. Don’t worry about tomorrow, next week, or next month. Just enjoy the moment.”
“But—” I go to argue, but he cuts my words off with his lips. As much as I want to argue, the feeling of his tongue running over my bottom lip is much more important. I sigh and relax into his kiss, allowing all my previous thoughts to float away, and do what he just said.
Enjoy the moment.
It seems like only seconds later we’re pulling up outside my place. I don’t know what it is, but the moment I kiss him, time seems to stop. I once again follow as he holds my hand and walks us up to the front door. He takes the keys from me as soon as I pull them from my bag, and he lets us in.
I drop my bag on the side table and he does the same with the keys.
“Do you want a drink or—” I start nervously, but my words halt when he grabs my wrist and pushes me against the wall.
My breathing increases and my chest heaves as he stares into my eyes. “Not particularly. You?”
I shake my head slightly. The movement is so minimal, I have no idea if it was actually visible. I realise it must have been when Harrison whispers “good”, and then his lips land on mine.
His taste has my earlier desire for him flooding back, even more powerfully. Before I know what I’m doing, I have his jacket off and in a crumpled pile on the hallway floor, and I’m making quick work of his tie.
I always thought wanting to rip peoples’ clothes off was a thing in films, but at this moment, I can’t remove the fabric quick enough. The little tastes I’ve had of Harrison aren’t enough. I need all of him.
When my trembling fingers start work on his buttons, I feel his hands at my thighs. I’m lifted and trapped between his hard body and the wall. I groan when his erection presses into me, and I shamelessly rub myself against him.
“Which way?” he asks, his voice deep and gravelly.
I point towards my room, and in seconds, we’re there. He kicks the door closed behind us before placing me on my feet.
I stumble as I try to remember how to stand. Looking up to his eyes, I realise that for the first time in my life, I feel sexy and wanted. It’s an empowering feeling and gives me a huge confidence rush.
Stepping back up to him, I finish the job I started with his buttons before pushing the fabric from his shoulders. He helps me out when it gets stuck because of his cufflinks, but I make the most of it and go for the waistband of his pants.
Within seconds, he’s stood before me in just his tented boxers. My entire body aches for him as I run my eyes over every line, indent and muscle before me. Shit, this man works out.
“Okay, you’ve had long enough. My turn,” he growls as he steps towards me and places his lips to the sensitive skin below my ear. “This dress has been driving me crazy,” he mutters as he kisses down my neck and across my collarbone. “What it’s hiding is all I’ve been able to think about.”
He continues kissing and licking across my skin, and every bit of contact causes a need so intense that I’m sure I’m going to explode. He slowly moves over to my shoulder and pushes the strap off before repeating the action with the other.
My dress falls, exposing my naked breasts to him. I watch his eyes darken as he stares at them.
“Fuck, I knew they’d be perfect,” he moans before dropping down onto his knees and pulling one of my nipples into his mouth.
“Harrison, oh god.”
He sucks hard before his teeth graze my sensitive peak and he lets go with a pop. My head falls back as his tongue teases around the other one. Heat pools between my legs as he flicks my nipple back and forth with the tip of his tongue before he sucks it deep into his mouth. I’m a panting, trembling mess by the time he looks back up at me. His eyes are darker than I’ve ever seen them, and the gold sparkles like glitter with his arousal.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.”
I swallow down the emotion the look in his eyes drags up. This isn’t about emotion, this is about release, I try telling myself.
He stares at me for a few more seconds. I wish I knew what was going through his mind, because the look in his eyes begins to freak me out. He looks too serious. It only lasts so long because soon he’s reaching out and pulling my soaked lace panties down my legs.
Sucking my bottom lip into my mouth and closing my eyes, I face away from him, suddenly nervous about my nakedness.
“Eyes on me,” he demands, before I feel his hand on my cheek and a gentle nudge so my head turns back to him.
Once I’m where he wants me, his lips are back on mine and I’m being walked towards the bed. The second I feel the mattress hit the backs of my knees, he lowers me down like I’m the most precious thing in the world. The action is at odds with some of his demanding words tonight. That, combined with his serious look earlier, confuses me once again. I keep getting a hint that maybe this isn’t just about tonight for him. It scares me to even acknowledge the thoughts. He’s here on a business trip.
There are no tomorrows.
When I come back to myself, I find Harrison gloriously naked and peering down at me.
“You okay?”
Deciding it’s probably best not to answer with words, seeing as my feelings and emotions are having a riot in my head, I grab on to the back of his neck and pull him down on top of me.
I love the feeling of his weight, and I groan when I feel him brush against my sensitive flesh.
“In my purse,” I burst out as the thought hits me.
“Got it covered,” he says, holding up a silver square between his fingers.
I watch with amazement as he opens it and begins rolling it on. My muscles clench in anticipation of having him inside me. I feel his eyes on me the entire time. I’m pretty sure it’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen.
When he’s finished, I drag my eyes away and slowly make my way up his sculpted abs and chiselled chest. My breath catches when I meet his gaze, because that look is there again.
“Harrison…I…” I’m not sure what I want to say, but he must decide whatever it is isn’t important because I feel him press into me.
The feeling is alien after so long, but so good. I let out a loud groan as he slowly stretches me open.
“Oh fuck,” he grunts, and I can’t help but smile. “Eyes.”
My eyelids fly open at his demand. I hadn’t even realised they’d shut. As he stares down at me, I’m sure he can read my fear about where this is going, but he says nothing as he continues his slow, torturous movements.
This isn’t what I expected. I thought it was going to be fast, that he was going to fuck me. But this, what’s happening right now, feels nothing like fucking and everything like making…Nope, I can’t allow myself to think it.
Tears sting my eyes as another sudden wave of emotion washes over me. Deciding I need to change things up before I get even more invested in what’s happening to me, I reach up and pull his mouth down to mine. He feverishly returns my kiss and I scratch my nails down his back, making him moan.
It has the desired effect because his hips soon start to piston in and out of me, hitting me deeper with each thrust. His lips leave mine and his head drops to my neck for a few seconds before he sits back up, puts his palms under my ass, and lifts me from the bed.
“Oh shit,” I moan as he hits me in the deepest of places.
The sensation has me racing towards my release, but the second I feel his thumb connect with my clit, I’m falling.
“Fuck…oh fuck, Summer,” I hear him chant as pleasure races through me. “Summer, fuck, shit,” he continues as I clench around him, until he stills for a beat and then groans as I feel him twitching inside me.
He falls down on top of me, our sweaty skin sticking together, and he finds my mouth again.
His kiss continues for the longest time, and his hands roam around my body, teasing me until I feel him hardening against my thigh.
“I think I need to do that again,” he whispers when he eventually pulls back.
Opening my eyes to his wide smile has me once again battling with my emotions.
I should say no. I should tell him to leave because there’s no way this is ending well for me, but just the thought of him leaving makes me want to cry. So instead of doing what I should, I look up at him and mutter, “I’m sure that can be arranged.”
Harrison
Something changed the moment I found myself in her bedroom. What was meant to be a bit of fun suddenly seemed like something much more. I hoped that getting my hands on her at last would rid my obsession, but it seems to have only increased it. The woman in front of me was more than a one-night thing.
The thought scared me. I’d told myself n
ot so long ago that I’d never let another woman in. The last one royally fucked me over, and I had no intention whatsoever to allow the possibility of that happening again. Yet this woman in only a few days has wormed her way into to a place I thought I’d closed off forever—my heart.
I could tell by the look on her face she knew something was up, and something told me she was having similar thoughts. I wasn’t brave enough to voice them, though.
The right thing to do in that moment was probably to walk away, to leave before either of us get too far into whatever this thing is. Before either of us can be hurt too badly. But fuck if I could have walked away from her.
I’ve become addicted to my Manhattan girl.
Fuck reality.
Fuck tomorrow.
I look up when she stirs in the bed behind me.
“What are you doing?” she asks, her voice all sleepy and sexy.
“These are incredible,” I say, closing her sketchbook.
“They’re just quick sketches; they’re rubbish.”
“Trust me, they’re not. I’d love to see something you’ve put time into if those are quick sketches.”
I watch her eyes glance over to a painting at the other side of the bedroom.
“You did that?” I ask in astonishment.
Ripping my eyes away from the canvas, I look back at Summer. Her cheeks are flushed red and she’s biting down on her bottom lip, looking unsure of herself as she grips the sheets to her chest.
“Summer, it’s incredible.” I look back to the painting, taking in every detail and brush stroke. “Is it you?”
“Yeah. That’s my grandad. I painted it not long after he died.”
“Is that a pocket watch in your hand?”
“He always had it on him. I used to love playing with it as a kid. It fascinated me.”
“You don’t need to go to art school, Summer,” I say, turning to her so she can see how serious I am. “You’re incredibly talented. You could sell these easily as they are.” I see her panic at my suggestion. “Not that one, of course. But others most definitely.”
His Manhattan: A British Billionaire Romance (The Cocktail Girls) Page 5