by Holly Hart
I lean forward, jutting my chin out as threateningly as I can manage. “Never – and I mean never – play a trick like that on me again. Do you understand?”
Harlan physically flinches as he feels the rage crackling on my skin. I barely notice it, even though my cheeks are burning with the fires of righteous anger.
“But…”
“But nothing,” I snap. “Where have you been? I thought –”
I crumple. All of the anger that carried me seeps out. I feel like I’m standing on frozen ground in winter, with cold attacking me through the soles of my feet, putting out the flames of my rage.
“I thought you were dead,” I mutter, admitting my deepest, darkest fears. “I thought I’d killed you.”
Harlan’s forehead wrinkles. He takes a step forward and grabs me by the wrists. He cocks his head at me, and looks like he’s wondering whether he should shake some sense into me.
Part of me doesn’t blame him. I know I’m acting crazy. I can’t help it. I’m telling the truth. I thought I’d never see him again – see the man I love again – and that fear shook me to the core. It threatened my very being.
“Skye,” Harlan whispers softly.
He grabs my hand and guides it towards his cheek. The one I just slapped … I wince. A red handprint is quickly appearing on his skin.
“Look, I’m here. I’m fine. Nothing happened to me out there. I just had a –” he pauses for a second, chewing his lower lip. A smile makes its way onto his face, as if he’s reliving the memory of what happened while he was away.
“– a conversation with him, that’s all. A friendly one. Look…”
He holds his arms out, releasing my wrists and turns them over.
“No scratches, see. He didn’t lay a hand on me.”
I breathe out deeply. Now the anger has faded, I’m just left with an overwhelming sense of tiredness. I study Harlan’s outfit. I imagine he would blend neatly into the darkness, but right now, in his well-lit penthouse, not so much.
“Harlan,” I choke, as a wave of giggles rises up and out of me. “You look… ridiculous.”
A hurt expression bubbles up onto Harlan’s face. He hides it quickly, but I see it before it’s gone.
“Oh,” I giggle. “Don’t be like that. I’m just telling it how I see it…”
“What do you see, then?” Harlan replies roughly.
“Well for one,” I say, listing it on my thumb, “I don’t believe you for a moment when you say you were safe the whole time.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because you’ve got shards of glass all over that vest you’re wearing…” I say, reaching out and plucking a glittering splinter from his chest. “What – did you think you were Rambo or something?” I pick at the shards and toss them in a waste basket nearby.
I take a step back, and survey Harlan in more detail. He’s dressed in all black combat gear, including the stab vest I just picked the glass fragments off.
“What if someone had seen you like that?” I say, shaking my head.
“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” Harlan replies suddenly. I think he thought I’d welcome him home like a conquering hero…
I grin. Harlan’s a big enough boy that I know he’ll be able to take my ribbing.
“You’re dressed for war, Harlan, but you got your driver to drop you off and pick you up…” I giggle.
“Fine,” Harlan grumbles. He’s play-acting that he’s annoyed, but I know better. I see the glint of amusement in his eyes. “Maybe it didn’t go quite as smoothly as I made out. But what did you want me to do? Knock on his front door and ask him to let me in?”
I shrug. “I guess not. But it never hurts to be polite…”
“So when did you get that memo?” Harlan winks at me.
“Point taken,” I ruefully reply.
I let out a deep breath. “Seriously, though, Harlan. Don’t do that to me again. I’ve practically worn a hole in your carpet with worry.”
Harlan grabs me by my wrist and pulls me towards him once again. “Forget about it. I’ll have accounting take it out of your paycheck.”
I try and wriggle away from my lover’s arms, but he holds me too tight. There’s no escape. I pinch his arm instead.
“Or maybe,” Harlan whispers roughly into my ear, sending a shocking, thrilling surge of excitement coursing through my body. “There’s another way you can repay me…”
I wrinkle my eyebrow. “Oh?”
Harlan presses his lips against mine. His tongue grazes my lower lip, and I shiver with anticipation. His hands drop to my ass, and once there, seem to like it too much to leave.
Maybe this isn’t such a bad idea, I think.
“Well, we were rudely interrupted earlier…” I groan, resting my lips away from Harlan’s. “So I suppose…”
“Those are my thoughts exactly,” Harlan growls.
I pull away from him. “First things first, Captain America, I need to wash up. After what we did earlier, and the last few hours of worry, I’m a hot mess. And –”
“I don’t care about any of that. Skye, you’re the woman I love. I don’t care if you’re sweaty, or dirty, or –”
My hand flies to my mouth, covering my shock. “What did you say?”
“I said –” Harlan stops. His face wrinkles as he silently replays the words that just came out of his mouth.
Then he shrugs. “I don’t give a shit. It’s the truth, Skye. I love you. I have since the moment I walked into your office. I’m not going to hide it, not from anyone.”
I go weak at the knees. It’s a cliché, but I guess it’s that way because it’s true. The floor feels unsteady beneath my feet.
“I –” I stammer.
Oh God, am I actually going to say this?
“I think I might love you right back,” I whisper, closing my eyes as if to hide from the intensity of Harlan’s gaze. As always, he’s looking at me as though he can read the words written on my soul.
Harlan doesn’t say a word. He pulls me back, kisses me again. Kisses me so hard I can barely breathe, so hard that I forget my knees are weak and instead press my body against his for support – ignoring the sandpaper-rough patches from his canvas vest, grateful we removed the larger shards of glass.
“About time,” he says. “Now, about that offer…”
I dance away from him playfully. “I wasn’t kidding,” I say. “It’s nice to know you’re so into me, and all, but…”
Harlan’s eyebrow jumps so high I worry it might disappear into his fringe. “But?”
“But I was serious about what I said. I need a shower, and I sure as heck am not screwing you until you brush that glass off your chest.”
“More glass?” Harlan mutters, glancing down. “Oh… shit,” he mutters.
“Say,” I coo, looking over my shoulder, “I don’t imagine you’ve got a wardrobe already set up for me? Like at the cabin?”
Harlan’s fingers stop brushing at his front.
“Do I?” He grins. “What the hell do you think?”
I knew it!
“So where is it, cowboy?” I ask, biting my bottom lip seductively. “Because I’m in a mood to play dress-up…”
“Where the hell do you think,” Harlan grins confidently right back, “my bedroom.”
“Presumptuous,” I say. “But I like your attitude. Say, since this is my first time here – exactly which one is your bedroom?”
“The third one down on the left.”
“See you in ten.”
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Skye
I step out of Harlan’s apartment’s bathroom, nervous butterflies doing backflips in my stomach. I’m wearing a white silk satin slip – and nothing else. It feels gorgeous on my skin, like a lover bathing my body in kisses.
Still, I feel awkward as all hell.
I’ve got all these horrible fears running through my mind; fears that I know are baseless – fears that I know are nothing more than figm
ents of my overactive imagination.
I half expect Harlan to laugh at me, to call me ugly, and to send me packing.
Do all girls think like this, or is it just me?
But Harlan does none of those things. I knew he never would.
Instead, he just looks at me dumbstruck. He sucks air in through his teeth, and his eyes open wide. When he finally regains the ability to speak, he just shakes his head.
“Jesus, Skye,” he says in a voice that’s stolen of air. “Where the hell did you find that?”
I stand on one leg, the toes of my other foot circling the floor nervously. “You like it?” I say, turning only half of my body towards Harlan.
He takes a pace towards me, eyes aflame with desire. I start to wonder whether he’ll stop at all, he looks like he’s prepared to take me right here, right now, and fuck me up against the nearest wall.
I kind of hope he does.
“Like it, Skye?” He growls, tipping his head back in astonishment. “Hell, I love it! I just never–”
He cuts himself short, but I pick up the slack. I know exactly what he was going to say, and I don’t blame him. Hell, I’ve even surprised myself.
“You never thought you’d catch me in something like this, did you?” I say with a wry smile.
Harlan rocks backwards. “I didn’t mean it like –”
I grin coyly. “I’m just messing with you. I know you didn’t. I mean, there was a reason I found it in that closet. Now – are you going to kiss me, or are you just going to stand there like a lemming all day?”
Harlan’s throat makes an inarticulate growl all of its own accord. It’s a sound that sends shivers running down my spine. It’s a sound that awakens an animal part of me. It’s a cry of desire, nothing more, nothing less.
It’s brutal and honest, and it makes me want to jump Harlan’s bones.
“Well,” Harlan says, stepping towards me and biting his lower lip, “when you put it like that, how can I say no?”
He takes me in his arms, looping his right hand around my waist and pulling me towards him. His lips meet mine, and then we’re kissing like we never have before.
I’ve said it a hundred times, and every time is true.
This time is different.
Harlan’s different.
I’m different.
Because this time, I know exactly what I’ve been missing out on all these years. I know what it’s like to be taken to the verge of orgasm … and then thrown headlong over the edge.
And hell, Harlan makes a girl feel like Niagara Falls. I can’t possibly believe that there’s another man in the world with a cock the size of his – and if there is, that guy surely wouldn’t know how to use it nearly as well.
Speaking of Harlan’s, uh, appendage – I feel it poking into me, making his presence known right through his military battle pants.
“Made a friend?” I giggle.
“Huh?” Harlan growls. Then he looks down sheepishly at our guest.
“Shit,” he says. “I swear, I haven’t been like this since I was a teenager. Men my age aren’t supposed to have hormones pumping through them all day, you know?”
“You’re saying I’m so hot I’m putting you through puberty all over again?”
Harlan shrugs, and pulls me in for another kiss. “Hell if I know,” he growls, “but as long as Mr. Wolfe down there is game to go five times a day, I sure as hell am.”
I hike my eyebrow up. “Only five?” I giggle. “I expected more from the –” my eyes dart to Harlan’s bulging crotch … “Magnificent Mr. Wolfe…”
Harlan shakes his head, a stunned smile on his face. I like to think it’s there because he doesn’t know how he managed to get so lucky.
“You don’t know what you’re asking for, Skye,” he whispers into my ear, nibbling at my earlobe.
“Oh,” I gasp, opening up my neck as Harlan layers it with kisses. “I think I do…”
Then things start to move faster and faster.
Harlan’s hands roam across my body. He doesn’t leave a square inch untouched. His fingers attack me like he thinks I might go out of fashion, as if he thinks I might just disappear.
But I’m not going anywhere.
Thanks to the satin nightie, there isn’t much of my body that’s not on display. Harlan pays attention to it all.
Little more than a lace thong separates my soaking wet slit from Harlan’s probing fingers, and he grinds his palm against my crotch. I tip my head back, and a little cry of pleasure escapes my lips.
“You know,” he growls, whispering into my ear a message that’s meant for me and me alone. “I like it when you play dress-up for me.”
“Me too,” I whisper back, panting from his attentions.
“Now let’s see if you like sucking my cock,” he says, burying his fingers in my hair and pushing me down.
I don’t resist. It’s all I’ve been thinking about all day – the touch of his skin on my body, the feel of that burning hot organ in my mouth, the taste as he –
“You’re going to come for me,” I say wickedly. “No more holding out.”
“You know, Skye,” Harlan says, looking down at me as I sink to my knees. “I like you more and more every day.”
I bury my outrage at the idea that he didn’t just like me from the start by unzipping his pants, letting them fall to his ankles. For once, Harlan’s wearing underwear. It barely contains his enormous cock, which is pushing against the material, begging to be freed.
I look up with a raised eyebrow.
“What?” He shrugs back. “You go to war, you protect it all, okay?”
I grin. “Poor baby…”
“There’s nothing poor about me…” Harlan winks.
I roll my eyes. “Someone’s getting cocky,” I mutter, rolling my eyes further as I notice the accidental pun.
And then I can’t resist any longer. I drag Harlan’s boxer briefs down, not bothering to make sure they fall to his ankles. I only care about what lies underneath – his gorgeous, massive, magnificent cock.
“It’s so fucking big,” I whisper, my breath taken away.
“I bet you say that to all the guys.”
I shake my head, and I’m so close to my lover’s cock, my hair strokes his burning skin. He shivers.
“You know me,” I lie. “I get around.”
And then I’m done talking.
I take Harlan’s cock in my mouth, swirling the tip with my tongue. He tastes clean and fresh. But there’s still a hint of his natural musk, the smell the draws me in – the strange, almost spicy aroma that calls out to me every time I’m anywhere close to him.
“When did you get so good–” Harlan mutters, cutting himself off as I scrape my fingernails up the back of his thighs, making him shiver with delight.
I guess I just read enough books on sex in all those years when I wasn’t getting any.
Harlan trembles as I take his cock as deep into my mouth as it will go. I relax for a second, then swallow a little more. I wish I could look up at the same time, and look at the effects my attentions are having on Harlan’s face.
I bet his eyes are closed. I bet he’s lost in amazement, in astonishment, and in wonder.
“Enough,” he growls, pulling my hair and tugging me away from his cock. I moan with disappointment – I was just getting to the good bit. There’s something about the taste of Harlan’s come that has been calling to me ever since I met him.
“Why?” I pant, catching my breath. Those little voices start up in my head again – was I not good enough? Did I do something wrong?
Then Harlan sweeps them all away.
“Because I’m going to fuck you, of course,” he says, as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world.
I guess to him, it is. He looks at me with burning desire in those ice cold eyes – hot enough I half expect them to melt like icicles in the springtime sun. And the look in those eyes sets me on fire as well.
Harlan stokes the flames
of desire inside me just by looking at me. He jerks his head at the bed. “Get on.”
I do as I’m told, but I can’t help it. I try to stifle a giggle.
“What?” Harlan protests.
“You look ridiculous,” I laugh.
Harlan really does. He’s still got his boxers around his thighs, and his combat pants tangled around his ankles.
Luckily, Harlan doesn’t take offense.
“I guess it’s time for you to get to work, then,” he says, offering me the world.
I don’t need him to ask twice.
I drag him towards the bed by his vest, then throw him down. He almost trips on his pants in the process.
“I suppose I’ve got to take off your shoes as well, do I?” I say, giggling at the sight of Harlan lying on his back, his cock standing ramrod straight.
Harlan shrugs, an action that only tents his jacket around his shoulders. “I don’t care,” he says mischievously. “I’d fuck you standing up, lying down, with shoes on, or off. It doesn’t matter a bit to me.”
My eyes widen. “How romantic of you.”
“What can I say? I try.”
I busy my fingers with Harlan’s laces, and then one shoe then the other lands with a thump somewhere on the floor. I don’t care where, as long as he’s not wearing them.
His combat pants are the next to go, and then his boxers.
“Are you just going to lie there?” I grumble, eyeing his magnificently straight package with admiration, “or are you planning to help anytime soon?”
Harlan shakes his head as if to wake himself from a particularly enjoyable dream. “I guess,” he says unwillingly, tearing his eyes away from my lingerie-clad body. Nevertheless, his fingers finally begin to tangle with the straps of his combat vest.
I roll off Harlan’s body, kissing the tip of his cock as I pass. I sit, kneeling over him, legs spread wide, and stroke his cock with my ass.
“Jesus, Skye,” Harlan groans, “it’s hard to believe you’re new to all this. You’re a fucking pro.”
“What can I say? I’m a quick learner.”
It’s true, I am. Also, I’m a more than willing student, especially when I’ve got a master like Harlan teaching me.