Going to the Chapel

by Adriana Locke

  Alaska might be just what I needed to make a definitive break. Taking another sip of my wine, I didn’t initially register the door opening.

  “Excuse me,” a low voice said from behind me.

  A prickle of awareness ran up my spine. I knew that voice—low, gravelly and oh-so-sexy. Heat bloomed over the surface of my skin as it occurred to me that I was close to naked, in nothing but pair of socks, a T-shirt, and panties. I spun around, my eyes widening the moment they locked with Max’s gaze.

  His eyes narrowed. “Harlow, what are you doing here?”

  “Ivy invited me to stay,” I stammered, wishing like hell I wasn’t slightly tipsy from several glasses of wine.

  Of course, it had to be Max who encountered me like this. I’d seen more of him over the last few days after the wedding. Yet, I’d always been fully clothed and managed to keep a casual distance. Today, he wore jeans and a jersey shirt. The faded cotton caressed his muscled chest. My eyes flew to the expanse of skin showing where the three buttons at the top were open. His skin was burnished gold. That one little spot was positively lickable.

  His jeans hung low on his hips. As he lifted a hand to run it through his hair, his shirt rode up, revealing the delineated muscles at his waist. My mouth watered, and my panties were instantly damp.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Brilliant Harlow, just parrot his question.

  “Owen invited me to stay,” he said, his gravelly voice sending another shiver through me.

  He let his bag slide free from his hand where it fell to the floor with a thump. I gave myself a mental shake. Just looking at him had heat coiling in my belly.

  “Oh,” I finally managed to say.

  My conversational skills seemed limited by his presence. Slightly fuzzy from the wine with my body betraying me, I needed to get a grip fast.

  “Um…”

  Yet again, my conversational prowess was proven when I couldn’t form more than a single syllable. His gaze flicked down over my body before meandering back up, too slowly for my comfort. My nipples perked up at his perusal. I fairly burned with need from nothing more than a look from him.

  “I suppose Ivy and Owen didn’t chat about this,” Max said with a wry grin when his eyes finally made their way back to mine.

  I stayed silent, because I knew Ivy had told Owen I would be staying for a week. I wondered just what they were up to.

  “I can get out of your hair,” I finally said.

  Max started walking in my direction, his stride slow and purposeful. With every step, my channel clenched. My belly fluttered, spinning wildly. My breasts felt tight and achy, and my pulse went wild.

  5

  Max

  Walking towards Harlow, my mind considered two courses of action. One would be for me to do the sane thing and leave. Now.

  The other would be for me to do precisely what I wanted—give in to the urges I’d been beating back for three long days. Because I wanted Harlow. With such ferocity, I could hardly bear it.

  Her eyes were wide, her cheeks flushed, and her lips stained red from the wine she held in her hand. Her complete lack of artifice was so refreshing. She seemed oblivious to how beautiful she was. Her T-shirt hung just past her hips. She wore a pair of bulky wool socks that reached halfway up her calves. Though her T-shirt was loose, it didn’t do a damn thing to hide her assets, so to speak.

  The fabric stretched across her breasts, her nipples pressing against it. Lust cracked its whip, the bite of it tightening every fiber.

  One look at her, and I was on fire. I made a calculated decision. Even though Harlow was a friend of one of my best friends, the likelihood our paths would cross again was slim. If she worked for her father, I might have had to worry about encountering her. But apparently she was a firefighter. I didn’t even know what the hell to think of that.

  I calculated three days tangled up with Harlow might be enough to burn the need to ashes.

  When I reached her, her breath hitched slightly. My eyes flicked down to see her pulse fluttering in her neck. The urge to dip my head and drag my tongue along a soft skin there and taste the hint of honey and vanilla drifting to me was almost overpowering.

  I gave myself a mental shake, attempting to shackle the need pounding through me. Her rich brown eyes darkened.

  “I have an idea,” I said.

  “What’s that?”

  “I doubt our paths will ever cross again. I want you, and you want me.”

  Her cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink. “I don’t…”

  Her words trailed off as I held her gaze. “I’m a gentleman. I won’t do anything you don’t want. But I think it’s silly to deny the obvious.”

  I might not have known Harlow very well, but I sensed steel underneath her quiet exterior. The air around us heated, fairly crackling with the force of the desire between us. I wasn’t prone to fanciful thinking, but I wouldn’t have been surprised if sparks scattered around us.

  Harlow took a gulp of her wine. Anger flashed in her eyes, and my cock strained against my fly.

  “I wasn’t going to deny the obvious,” she finally said, resting her free hand on her hip, conveniently hitching her T-shirt up just enough to reveal the curve of her hip. “But that doesn’t mean I want to do anything about it.”

  She was a sensible woman. I was a sensible man. Usually.

  In this moment, rational thought was hard to find. The only thing I hoped to do just now was persuade her not to worry about the future—to agree with me on this foolish gamble. We could burn this to ashes and walk away unscathed.

  Before I realized what I was doing, I lifted a hand, brushing a loose lock of hair away from her forehead and tucking it behind her ear. I felt the shiver that ran through her, my own body tightening in response.

  “I’m simply proposing a clean, three-day window. Just us. We’ll let this play out and then walk away. That’s it. I won’t lie. I don’t do relationships. If you’re worried about that, there’s no need.”

  Harlow stared at me, her lips parting slightly, her tongue darting out to swipe across her bottom lip. I wished I could see into her mind. I didn’t usually give a damn what anyone was thinking. With Harlow, I did. I wanted to know what made her tick.

  Walking away from her father’s business didn’t make sense. Firefighter didn’t either. But then, in a way, it did. I could sense her strength and an edge of recklessness to her. I sensed she tried to keep herself buttoned up tight, and I wanted to set her loose. She took another gulp of wine, turning quickly and striding away. As if an invisible thread attached me to her, I reflexively followed.

  “Well?”

  Her breath hitched again. All she had to do was breathe, and I wanted her so fiercely, I ached.

  “Okay,” she said softly.

  That was all I needed. I caught the dark fall of her hair in my hand, winding it around my fist. Stepping closer, I came flush against her back, almost groaning aloud when the achingly hard length of my cock fit between the cheeks of her lush bottom. Her head fell back against my shoulder.

  Dusting kisses along her neck, her skin pebbled under my lips. A soft moan escaped when I dragged my tongue along the same path.

  She stiffened and then pushed away, spinning to face me. Her hair fell loose as her eyes collided with mine.

  6

  Harlow

  “A few ground rules,” I said as I stared into Max’s eyes and scrambled for purchase inside.

  His eyes were downright dangerous. Hell, he was downright dangerous.

  Max met my eyes and arched a brow. That was all it took to send another wash of heat through me, and flutters spinning in my belly. Being close to him made me feel half crazy. It felt as if the air around us was alive, shimmering with desire. It was hard to imagine Max wanted me as much as I wanted him. But the look in his eyes told a different story. His gaze was dark and so intent, it took my breath away.

  I was simply standing there staring at him when he arched his bro
w a little higher, his mouth curling at the corner in a grin, promptly sending my belly into a flip.

  What was I thinking? Rules, right. I said we needed ground rules.

  They were more for me than him. I was already in over my head. My tendency to want to be wrapped in someone’s strength, my love with falling in love—those urges were fierce.

  This attraction ran too deep, a force I couldn’t resist.

  “Ground rules,” I repeated. I meant to speak firmly, but my voice came out husky.

  I straightened my shoulders. I felt, rather than saw, his gaze flick down to my breasts. My nipples tightened further, perking up and all but begging on my behalf. I felt my cheeks heat when his eyes raised again, a gleam of mirth there.

  “Please tell me the ground rules, Harlow.”

  Every time he said my name, it felt as if he was making love to it. Slightly gruff and low, his voice sent a shiver through me.

  “Not three nights, one night.”

  This rule went against everything I wanted, but I couldn’t let myself have more.

  It felt as if Max could see straight through my bullshit. He cocked his head to the side. “Maybe.”

  “Maybe?” I rested a hand on my hip, narrowing my eyes and attempting to look stern. “That’s one of my rules. One night.”

  His smile was slow and devastating. “If you still say the same thing tomorrow morning, then you have my word.”

  Oh, he was so arrogant!

  “How do I know you’re a man of your word?”

  Despite my annoyance, I was enjoying this. With heat blooming through me, acutely aware of the moisture between my thighs, I lifted my chin.

  Max chuckled. “Owen is one of my best friends. If you know him well, which I understand you do, then you can trust my word. Feel free to call him and verify.”

  Despite my misgivings about the state of my heart and tendency to fall head over heels in love with men who were terrible for me, I trusted Max. For the very reason he noted. “Fine.”

  “No need to call to verify?” he countered.

  I shook my head.

  “Any more ground rules?”

  “This is a one time thing.”

  Max nodded solemnly. “I’m not guessing our paths will cross again. If they do, there will be no expectations. Anything else?”

  Need coiled tightly in my core, anticipation fairly vibrating through me. I shook my head. I didn’t have any more ground rules, but now the moment was upon us. Simply having Max close nearly made me burst into flames.

  He reached out, catching my hand in his and closing the distance between us. When the heat and strength of his body came against mine, my pulse took off like a rocket. My breath came in shallow pants as need spun through my veins.

  “Harlow,” he said.

  He threaded a hand into my hair, sliding it down to cup the nape of my neck. Goosebumps chased over my skin in the wake of his touch.

  Then, his lips were on mine. I couldn’t say what I had expected, but I supposed I expected him to dominate instantly. In a way, he did, but not how I expected. The moment his lips met mine, a jolt of electricity shot through me, striking me at my core.

  Yet, his touch was just a dusting brush of his lips against mine. He kissed one corner of my mouth and then the other. He wiped away my defenses. His tongue swiped across my lips and swept into my mouth. He still gripped one of my hands. He slid his other palm down my spine and over my bottom, palming it and rocking his arousal into me.

  He was fully clothed, while I wore nothing but a T-shirt, a pair of silk panties, and socks. I should have felt vulnerable. I did, but not in the way I expected. My heart was instantly at risk, my tricky, oh-so-wishful heart savored his strength and the depth of need burning between us.

  With his tongue tangling with mine, the feel of this arousal hard and hot at the apex of my thighs, a surge of power rolled through me. That this man could want me this boldly was a heady sensation. When he drew back slightly, catching my bottom lip in his teeth, I tried to grab onto some semblance of control as I gulped in air.

  “Harlow,” he murmured, his gruff voice sending goose bumps prickling over my skin again.

  Opening my eyes, I found his gaze waiting, the icy blue darkened to a rich sapphire. His gaze was so intense, I couldn’t look away.

  I tried to catch my breath, managing to murmur, “Yes?”

  He loosened his hand in my hair, tracing along my collarbone and then dipping to cup one of my breasts through my T-shirt, my nipples tightening to an ache. His thumb brushed over my nipple. I couldn’t hold back a low moan. I shifted my thighs restlessly, which only served to heighten the need knotted at the apex of my thighs.

  “Now would be the time to tell me you don’t want this,” he finally said.

  I almost laughed. I supposed I could lie blatantly and tell him I didn’t want him, but with need rampaging through me and warning bells blaring, all I wanted was him.

  I shook my head, moaning again with another brush of his thumb across my nipple.

  “Is that a ‘no, you don’t want to stop’, or ‘no you don’t want this’?”

  He was going to make me be direct.

  “I want this.”

  Satisfaction flared in his eyes. “Good. Because I want you,” he said flatly.

  His words sent another surge of power through me.

  He dipped his head swiftly, closing his mouth over my nipple right through my T-shirt, the wet heat of his mouth and the friction of the fabric making me cry out. Then, his mouth was on my other nipple, and I nearly melted at his feet. When he lifted his head, I glanced down to see the tight points of my nipples pressing against the damp fabric.

  Everything moved swiftly after that. His hands were everywhere—cupping my bottom, sliding up under my T-shirt, the subtle abrasion of his touch against my skin sending slivers of fire under the surface.

  I needed more. I slid a hand under his shirt, savoring the heat of his skin. With a low groan, I arched into the hard, hot length of his cock.

  “Harlow…”

  Opening my eyes, I found his waiting. He reached for the glass of wine in my hand. With a slow spin, he set it on the windowsill behind us and then lifted me against him. My legs curled reflexively around his hips.

  He held me easily. In a few strides, he reached the kitchen counter and slid my hips onto it, the contrast of the cool tile against my skin merely serving to ratchet up the heat inside. He hooked a hand on the hem of my T-shirt, pulling it straight up and over my head. It sailed through the air, falling to the floor in a soft rumple.

  I sat there in nothing but my blue silk panties and a pair of socks. I felt bare as his eyes trailed down over my breasts, my nipples tightening at the feel of his gaze burning against my skin. Stepping between my knees, he cupped my breasts in his hands, teasing my nipples with his thumbs. “You’re so beautiful, Harlow.”

  A small sound escaped from my throat as my hips arched into him. Freeing one of my breasts, he reached down, gripping my hip and tugging me closer to the edge of the counter.

  Everything blurred. He dragged his tongue along my neck, over the dip in my throat and then down to swirl around my nipples, his teeth scoring them lightly. Yanking at his shirt, I was relieved when he stepped back to reach behind his head and tug his shirt off. I got a glimpse of his chest, all hard muscled planes and burnished skin with a smattering of dark hair that narrowed to a point.

  Tearing his fly open, I curled my hand around his cock, almost moaning at the feel of it. He made me crazy—greedy, needy, wanting everything at once. His fingers trailed over my belly and dipped between my thighs, teasing over the wet silk.

  He lifted me with ease, hooking his finger over the edge of my panties and dragging them down. I kicked them free and then he was stepping between the cage of my knees again as I freed his cock from his briefs. His fingers teased in my folds, drenched with desire.

  I didn’t want to wait. I needed all of it—now. He buried two fingers in
me, knuckle deep. I cried out, gripping his shoulders as I arched into his touch. I felt his eyes on me and wanted to look away, but I couldn’t. It was as if a magnet held my gaze to his as he fucked me slowly with his fingers.

  “Let go,” he said softly.

  On the heels of his command, his pressed his thumb down, rolling it over my clit. Pleasure unraveled in a burst, my channel clenching around his fingers as I cried out.

  Inside of a hot second, while I was still coming down from the intensity of my climax, I heard the sound of a foil tearing. Dragging my eyes open, I found him rolling a condom on. His jeans hung low on his hips. He tugged me closer to the edge of the counter, teasing me with the head of his cock. On the heels of my release, I was already spiraling inside. I needed to feel him inside me. I wanted it rough, hard, and fast.

  Max gave it to me exactly how I wanted it. A few more teases, sliding back and forth through my drenched folds, and he murmured my name. The moment my eyes locked with his, he sank inside in one swift surge, filling me deeply.

  It had been a full two years since I’d had an actual sex. I was tight, but the slight burn of him filling me was welcome. I needed it, the mingling of pleasure and pain.

  7

  Max

  Staring at Harlow, I clung to my control. She felt better than I could’ve even imagined—hot, slick and so tight, I almost came simply sinking inside of her.

  I wanted to watch her fly apart again. I slid one hand down to grip her hip, holding her in place. Lifting the other, I brushed her hair back from her face, savoring her shiver. Sliding my hand through her hair and down her spine, I cupped her sweet ass, pulling her closer. When I thought I had enough control, I drew back and sank inside of her—again and again and again.

  “Touch yourself,” I murmured.

  The words simply slipped out. Reaching between us, her finger slipped into her glistening folds. Looking down, I watched as she pressed over her swollen clit. She cried out, her channel throbbing around me. My own release came swiftly, almost brutally. Heat twisted at the base of my spine and whipped through me, the pleasure so intense, my knees almost gave out.