“Yeah.” That one word sounded strangled, as if I’d taken a big bite of the concrete patio and it was lodged in my throat.
“You can’t use it against me later.” She’s scooted closer, and there wasn’t enough blood left in my brain to manage syllables. I nodded my agreement. “I think I might have had too many piña coladas.” Her finger strayed to my stomach and circled my belly button. Yep. Sundial.
I hadn’t counted, but I only recalled us having one each. Although I couldn’t honestly say I’d been paying a lot of attention to more than how her top fit. “True?”
She lowered her eyes. “No.” After a few long breaths, she started again. “Is it wrong that I’m lying about drinking so I have an excuse for why I want you right now?”
I didn’t want to be a good guy. I wanted to be her guy, but this was something she’d regret, and I knew it. Tricking her was for her own good, and I stood by that, but I didn’t want to be a regret. “A little bit.”
Rather than answer, she rolled off the raft into the water. When she climbed out and left the patio area, I closed my eyes and tried to remember the order of the presidents of the United States, but all I could see was her and the sway of her hips, the fullness of her mouth. Well, hell. I abandoned the float for a few more laps. It was a while before I could follow her to the room, but when I walked in, she was dressed and throwing her things into her suitcase.
No. Not yet.
I had to stop her. I at least had to tell her enough that she didn’t run back to Andrew. “What’s wrong? What are you doing?”
“I’m going to the airport, and I’m getting a flight home.”
“Why?”
“Because, Harley.” She slammed the lid of her suitcase closed and zipped the top before she turned back to me. “I can’t stay here with you. I need to get back to real life where everything makes sense.” She crossed her arms and glared at me. This was her angry lawyer pose, and now I was about to get an argument worthy of the Supreme Court. “You have me off balance. My life is planned. It’s set already, and here you are being fifteen kinds of charming and—and I’m confused. I am marrying Andrew in a month, but all I can think about is what it would be like to be with you.”
God, help me.
“Soph, I’m not trying—”
“No. I know that. You’re just this guy.” She plopped down on the bed, and I sat beside her, close enough to touch, but not making a move. “I can’t remember sleeping with you.” I knew I should have just told her nothing happened and we weren’t married, but I didn’t. “And now, I feel like I missed out. And it’s wrong, but I can’t help it, and I’m trying like hell not to think about it, but…I am. Thinking about it.”
I wanted to be the guy who didn’t take advantage of the situation, especially since it was based on a lie, but I also wanted to be the guy who held her as the sun came up in the morning, the guy whose name was on her lips when she fell over the edge. “What about Andrew?”
She looked up at the ceiling then threw herself back on the bed with a moan that seeped through my skin all the way to my bones. “I don’t know.”
This was my moment to make her see the truth about him, about their entire relationship. I just had to make sure to think with my brain and not my dick. “What do you see in that guy?” During her drunken ramblings the night before, she’d let slip that they hadn’t slept together in months. So maybe it was nothing more than need. But what kind of friend would I have been to send her out into the world with that all pent up inside her?
A good friend. One who doesn’t use her need to satisfy his own.
But I’d been a good friend for years. I sat back and watched him treat her as less than he should because she asked me to. And yeah. As soon as he proposed, I might have used a few government resources to discover that while he wasn’t sleeping with her, he hadn’t been celibate either. Not telling her right then wouldn’t win me any best buddy awards. But then or now, finding out would break her, make her question herself. I couldn’t bear to see that happen either. She would see flaws where there weren’t any and weigh them against everything I knew about her to be true. And with the way her mind worked, she wouldn’t bounce back. As a friend, her best friend, I couldn’t let that happen either. It was tricky, and I tried to work it out.
“He’s good to me, and my folks like him. You know how they are. There’s been so much pressure to settle down and get married. Mom isn’t getting younger, and she wants grandkids before she dies. Andrew will be a good father, a good provider.” Those weren’t the right reasons to join her future with his. I had to make her see.
“Since when do you need a provider?” She made more money in three months than I made in a year. She could damned well provide for herself.
“I don’t, but if I have kids, I want to be there for them completely. That would mean not working.”
At the crux of her argument, there was something big missing. “Do you love him?”
She bounced up like she was wearing panties with springs attached. For a moment, my mind wandered to her panties and it took the full force of her anger to snap me out of it. “Why ask me now? Or more to the point, best friend, why didn’t you ask me that before when I showed you the ring or when I asked you to stand up with me? Why are we only now having this conversation?”
It didn’t escape me that she hadn’t answered. “Do you love him?”
She sighed. “I always heard that even drunk, you wouldn’t do things that you didn’t subconsciously want to do. And I slept with you. And married you. What does that tell you?” Before I could answer, she went on. “It tells me that there is something between us and whether or not I decide I love him…there’s something between us.” Misery deepened her voice. And to be honest, it didn’t do much for me either.
Still, I couldn’t stand to see her beating herself up over it. First, I was going to make her smile, then I was going to tell her the truth and let her decide. “I am pretty irresistible.” And there it was. That heart-stopping pull of her lips. “Soph, we…”
And I would have told the entire truth had she not used the force of her weight to push me into the mattress and cover my body with hers. But it was hard to think past her tongue in my mouth, her hips grinding into mine.
7
Sophie
What happened in Vegas stayed in Vegas—well, kind of. If I hadn’t married Harley or hadn’t slept with him, maybe there would have been a chance for me and Andrew, but the fact was, I did those things. And drunk or not, that meant something.
But I didn’t want Harley to think he was some sort of consolation prize. And that was the only reason I stopped kissing him. Trying to find the words among the haze in my mind, I looked down at him when he spoke. “I have to tell you something, Soph.”
“No. We’re done talking. Well, you are.” I grinned because I couldn’t help it. I liked the desire in his eyes, the deep husky sound of his voice, the way my cheek was cradled in his hand. Harley was my happy place. “I want you, and this doesn’t have anything to do with me and Andrew. This is only about us—you and me. I’m not confused or torn or wishing you were anybody other than who you are. I just wanted you to know that.” And that was the last word we were saying on the subject if it was up to me. And as long as his arms were wrapped around me, his body was beneath mine, and my tongue was in his mouth, it was going to stay up to me.
Until it wasn’t anymore, until I was so thoroughly kissed I couldn’t remember my own name, much less a single reason why we shouldn’t have been tugging shirts up and pants down. The fingers skimming along my ribs to rest on my hip left a trail of heat that moved toward my center and burned me from the inside. My heart pounded, and all I could see was Harley. All that mattered was him.
He turned us so I was on my back and he was half on top of me. His chest was bare, begging me to touch it, and I pulled him closer, desperate to taste his skin, to feel his weight on top of me, to make this a memory I’d never forget. His mouth moved
from my lips to my jaw to my neck. After showing agonizing care to my collarbone, and reverence to the hollow of my throat, he moved in the smallest increments down. I was writhing, begging in pants and gasps while he worshiped me from shoulder to shoulder.
He glided his hand from my hip down to my thigh, and I clutched his shoulders and sealed my mouth to his. If this life ended right now, I would still die a pretty happy girl, but I wanted the full Harley experience. I’d never wanted anything or anyone more in my life. When I thought I couldn’t take more, when my heart was throbbing so hard I could hear it outside my body, he slowed down, brushed his lips over my eyelids then stared down at me with just a hint of a smile. He stroked his fingers up my side to cup my cheek and curl into my hair before he lifted my head to kiss me again.
His skin was smooth, but the corded muscles underneath flexed with every sensual move he made, and I wanted to touch more, explore all of him. I wanted to feel his weight on me, move with him until neither of us could think or breathe or want more. The fiery passion consumed every thought before I could process, and I’d never known anything like it.
After he kissed a trail from my lips to my ankle, he made his way back up, using hands and mouth to bring me closer to the edge. I whimpered for more through a clouded haze of desire. “Please, Harley, now.”
His lips were hot against my ear. “What do you want, Sophie?” He pressed against me, hard, hot, ready, and I gasped. “You want this?”
“Yes.” I could barely hiss the words as he held himself away, left me panting for more.
“Or this?” His kiss was a pendulum that swung between soft and sensual to rough and needy. “Tell me what you want.”
“You know what I want.”
“I want to hear you say it.”
His grin made me more desperate, and I clawed at his shoulders, pressed wet kisses against his chest, tilted my head to twist his skin between my teeth. When he continued to tease me, drawing closer then pulling away, I used all the strength in my body to push him onto his back. His eyes widened when I threw a leg on each side of him and ground my hips until his breath came in shallow puffs and his hands clenched fistfuls of air.
He either surrendered his power or I took, but there was something erotic about seeing him this way, eyes half-lidded, wrists held in mine over his head while I nipped at his lips. “Tell me what you want, Harley.” As soon as I whispered the words against the shell of his ear, I sucked the lobe between my teeth and bit down just enough to make him moan.
“I want you”—he flipped us again—“out of control.”
I had news for him, this was as out of control as I’d ever been. In. My. Life.
He sat up, and for a second, I was cold where his body had been. Then, when his tongue and fingers were both stroking my center, heat spiraled through me, and I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. I was buoyant and heavy at the same time, floating away and grounded by the weight of this minute.
Writhing, with my fingers tangled in his hair, I felt the pressure building, driving me toward release. “Oh, God, Harley.” The words escaped as he lapped at me, twisted his fingers as he pulled them in and out. A pinpoint of light exploded, and I rocked against his mouth, moved in time to the motion of his fingers.
He raised his head and glided along my body until he was braced on his elbows and brushing the hair back from my face. “I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you.”
As soon as he breathed the last word, he pushed inside me and threw his head back. In a frenzy of sensual moans and cries of pleasure, we moved together, slow, then fast then slow again. The ache inside me was back, and I clung to him until with one final thrust of his hips, we shattered together.
8
Harley
Her head was snuggled onto my shoulder and every couple of seconds she pressed a kiss against my neck. I wished I was a guy who could just soak up her attention and not be racked with guilt. I would have really loved that right, but my mama raised me to know right from wrong. And as right as this felt, it was so wrong.
“Why did we wait all these years to do this?” Her voice was a warm whisper against my skin and she rubbed her body against mine. For a minute, the guilt didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but Sophie, in my arms, her scent on me, her mouth tasting, teasing, nibbling my skin.
When her hand edged down my chest to my stomach, I couldn’t let her go further without telling her the truth. Once was sleazy enough. “Soph, we have to talk.” I scooted closer to the side of the bed and she came with me, holding her body to mine with arms that were impressively strong.
“I’m busy right now.” She lifted her head long enough to give me a wink then kissed me. It was one of those mind-altering kisses that robbed me of the ability to think until she pulled back. As she trailed her lips down my throat and across my chest, I knew I had to stop her, but…not yet.
No. This was not right. I took her shoulders in my hands and gave her one gentle push, but she was persistent. “Please.” I couldn’t manage more than that, and all I could do was hope she took it the way I meant it. Whichever way that was.
She slithered up until we were almost nose-to-nose. I wanted another minute of holding her before I started the fight of our lifetime—and I knew it would be exactly that. Sophie didn’t suffer fools with grace. She destroyed them with anger, with words that sliced and shredded. “You have two minutes.”
My arms tightened around her. I needed one more second of perfection. “Soph, I love you. I need you to know that. I think I have since we were kids. And I would never intentionally do anything to hurt you.” I would have added or lie to you but that wouldn’t have been true. I went into this knowing every minute from the flight to this moment was going to be a lie. Her wide-eyed gaze was accompanied by a smile that had the power to stop my heart. I couldn’t bear to hear her reply so I shushed her with a finger over her lips. “Don’t say anything.” When she nodded and put her head on my shoulder again, I kissed her upturned nose. I was stalling, stealing every minute I had left with her happily beside me.
This conversation could have gone two ways—she would either immediately forgive me, knowing in her heart I did what I thought was best to stop her from making a horrible mistake; or she would crucify me with her anger. I’d gambled enough for one lifetime. I wasn’t putting any money on this outcome.
“Tick tock.” Her fingers dipped below the blanket, and I caught them just as they crossed over into the danger zone.
Neither of us spoke further as a knock at the door ruined my train of thought and she sat up as if she had a pretty fair inkling of who might have been on the other side. “Did you order room service?” Oh, God, please let her have ordered room service.
The flush in her cheeks was answer enough. I flipped back the blanket and pulled on my jeans. With my luck, this could have only been one of two things—the angel of death had come knocking or Andrew had made his way from home to our hotel room. I opened the door just enough to rule out the angel of death. “Hey,” Andrew said as his eyebrows formed one straight line on his face. “I thought this was Sophia’s room.”
I should have swung the door open, but behind me, Sophie was scrambling for clothes. “Um, yeah. She’s in the bathroom.”
He pushed past me as if my holding the door mostly closed was irrelevant to an invitation inside. “Interesting shirt.” He walked closer to the bed, flipped open my suitcase to find mostly wrinkled T-shirts. He bent to pick up Sophie’s panties from the floor then turned to me. “You slept with her?”
I was an FBI agent, trained by some of the baddest ass feds in all the land, and when he came at me, I stepped to the side. His blow—which would have only grazed me anyway—smashed against the doorframe. He wasn’t a small guy—an easy 6’, 200 pound mass of asshole—and the force he put into the punch would have likely hurt if he had any kind of aim.
Sophie popped her head out of the bathroom and rushed to Andrew’s side. He was on the floor cradling what was likely only
a broken finger, if that. She flipped a gaze up at me. “What did you do?” Her eyes, her voice, the glower on her face all accused me of injuring prince charming.
This was not how this was supposed to go, and it could only get worse. “I moved out of the way.”
She held his hand, turning it one way then the other until Andrew snatched it back and hugged it with his other arm. “You’re a lawyer not a doctor. What the hell do you think you’re doing?” There was enough fury in his tone that I went on alert.
Sophie sat back, unbent her legs, and stood. “I don’t know. I think I was trying to help.”
“Well, you didn’t.”
He moved next to her and used his good hand to pull her in for a kiss. In her defense, she didn’t touch him, but neither did she pull away. I told myself I didn’t care, but seeing her with her mouth on his grated on me, and my fists clenched. When they broke apart, she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. Yeah. It was the lip I was nibbling on ten minutes ago. “What are you doing here?”
“I thought you might need some help cheering up your bestie.” What kind of grown ass man used teenager slang? “But it looks like you have that under control.” There was no way he gave one fat shit about me. And I didn’t care for his tone. I cocked my head, waiting. Instead of defending herself, Sophie lowered her gaze to stare at her toes.
“This isn’t what it looks like, Andrew.”
“Good to hear because it looks like you were just screwing Harley.”
I’d never heard him say my name before, and I didn’t like the way it sounded from him.
Sophie’s mouth twitched from one side to the other, and her fingers drifted to her throat to clutch the locket I gave her for her birthday last year. “Okay. So, it is kind of what it looks like. But I can explain.”
And it was at that exact moment, he snatched her hand from her side and pulled it close to his face. “What the actual fuck is that?”
Married. Wait! What? Page 59