Trent was taking his time cleaning up her back. She could feel the water being sprayed on to help wipe off all the excess ink.
The cream he smoothed on her was cool, and he was so gentle with her burning skin. He’d be there to help her through the pain of the first night this time. Smiling to herself, she remembered the night after the first tattoo appointment when he’d talked her out of taking herself to the ER. He must have thought she was pathetic.
The feel of his fingertips softly sliding down her back ignited fireworks inside her. There was something about the intimacy of lying practically naked as Trent had worked on her tattoo that suddenly felt incredibly erotic.
As his hands continued to stroke and massage in the cream over her back, a warmth started in her belly and spread its way through her core. Pulling her knees tighter together on the bed, she squeezed her thighs before remembering Trent could see exactly what she was up to.
The rumble of the wheels of his stool stopped in front of her. Opening one eye, Harper looked up at him and smiled softly. It was written all over his face that he was feeling the same way. His soft gaze was heavy with emotion and his mouth was slightly open as he brushed his forefinger over her lower lip.
Lifting her chin, she met him halfway as he moved in to kiss her, a heartfelt meeting as his soft, warm lips brushed across hers gently before moving his hand into her hair to pull her in toward him.
He tasted of coffee, red licorice, and something uniquely Trent. A flavor she couldn’t seem to get enough of.
His tongue moved slowly against hers and her eyes fluttered closed as she tried to show everything she was feeling through the one part of their bodies where they were joined. A shiver rippled through her as he pulled out her hair band, gently massaging her scalp before diving deeper into her hair, holding a fistful against the side of her head.
Harper felt so far outside her own body as she experienced what it felt to kiss someone you truly loved. She couldn’t ignore the feelings she had inside of her any longer. It was time to accept the fact she loved him.
And that it would break her heart to have to run again.
* * *
Putting his forehead against hers, Trent took in a deep breath. He felt physically drained and yet fully energized … kind of like taking Valium and speed at the same time.
He tried to separate his feelings, breaking them down. First he was just plain horny. He’d spent the last four hours looking at a hot, nearly naked woman that he knew he’d get to take home and do everything he’d been daydreaming about tonight. Despite her suspicions, he’d by choice never tattooed a girlfriend, naked or otherwise.
Second, he was tired. Cujo was right. This was going to be his best work ever, and it was taking every ounce of mental energy to make this as spectacular on her back as it was in his head.
Third. Well, third was a what-the-fuck-was-that sensation. Something about the combination of it all. Christ, he owed Metallica a letter of thanks. Watching her relax, seeing it affect her … man, when she’d clenched her thighs and lifted that perfectly cute butt. Knowing that the ink on her body was his, a crazy sense of ownership and pride she was wearing his mark. He loved her. It was that simple. He’d considered he could be falling, but it was time to admit she had his heart.
He needed to get her home, now, as in he might explode if it took longer than fifteen minutes.
“Christ, you’re something else, Harper,” he said after a while, one of them needing to make a move.
Holding her untied bikini to her chest with one arm, Harper moved to sit up. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were ripe with heat. “I need painkillers, alcohol, and to sleep on my front, in no particular order.”
“You are still coming home with me, right? Please.” Did he want her to hear desperation in his voice?
She mischievously ran her fingertips down his very stiff erection. “Can you wait that long?”
Stopping her should be his course of action but it felt good, especially when she squeezed him … mmm … just like that.
Buttons were popping on his pants and he still couldn’t bring himself to push her away. Christ, this was his studio, for heaven’s sake. His employees were outside the door. Shouldn’t one of them be grown-up enough to stop it?
Once her hands were inside his pants, he knew there was no going back until she’d done whatever she wanted to do.
“Harper.” What? Stop? Go?
She stood in front of him and let her bikini top go, pushing him back to the wall until his butt hit it. With what little bit of blood was still left in his brain, he reached over and clicked the lock on the door.
Harper lowered his pants, springing his raging hard-on free.
Wrapping both hands around the length of his shaft, Harper stroked up and down a few times.
Watching her drop to her knees, lining that perfect mouth up with the end of his shaft was an overdose of visual stimulation. Harper looked up at him, those intense green eyes heavy and hooded as she flicked her tongue across the bead of moisture.
His abs clenched involuntarily at the first sweep.
Opening her mouth, she sucked in his head, pulling out and letting her saliva lubricate him further before sliding more of him back into that sweet mouth of hers. Pink lips surrounded him, allowing him to slide farther into her throat. Her tongue stroked the underside of his dick, perfect pressure until she withdrew and teased his crown.
He swallowed hard, hoping he didn’t let go too soon, wanting to enjoy this for as long as she was willing to do this for him. Her cheeks flushed as he watched her mouth stretch wide to swallow his erection.
Losing himself in the moment, he leaned his head back against the wall and groaned. He thrust his hands into her hair hard and did his best not to pull her toward him. He was already sliding down the back of her throat.
Shit. He was going to come. “Harper, you need … I’m gonna…” He tried to push her away from him, but she reached around his thighs, grabbing his ass and pulling him to her.
“Harper. Fuucckkk.” His balls tightened up as he came deep inside her throat. He banged his head against the wall as his eyes rolled back in his head.
He was still trying to gather some form of comprehensive thought when Harper stood up in front of him, using her thumb to wipe the corner of her mouth.
“Jesus, sweetheart. You’re a constant surprise to me. Come here.” Reaching out his arms, he wrapped them around her shoulders, pulling her in tight as his breath continued to come fast and furious.
Metallica was just wrapping up the ballad. Perfect timing. He’d never be able to listen to that song ever again without thinking of Harper on her knees, sucking him off.
Kissing the top of her head, he rubbed his hands down her arms and realized she was practically naked and he still hadn’t bandaged her back.
“Not exactly taking the best care of you here, darlin’. You need some covering on your back. Then I can take you home and show you just how much I liked that.”
“Was it … you know … good?”
“Darlin’, it was way better than good.”
“It’s just … well, I’m starting to get it. That I might not be, you know, what he told me I was. And I’d like to try new things. With you … of course. I don’t want you to always treat me like I’m going to break. I want to know what you like. And how you like it.”
Trent grinned. “Are you trying to seduce me with dirty talk, Harper Connelly? Because I like it.”
The soft flush of color that came over her cheeks was one of the cutest things about her.
“You know what I mean,” she said, hitting him in the arm.
“Ow.” He pretended to flinch and laughed as she scowled at him. It was so easy to get a rise out of her. “I do know what you mean. But sometimes, it’s hotter than hell to hear your girl say it. To put in words what she wants from you. What she thinks you can do for her. And I know under that prim and proper schoolmarm thing you’ve got going on, there’s a hot
chick with a dirty mouth.”
He brushed his lips over hers a final time, stopping the three words he wanted to say from tumbling out.
Chapter Sixteen
“Ow, ow, ow.”
Trent laughed at the squirming, naked body underneath him. “You know the rules by now. You gotta lube up three times a day.”
It had been a long and painful night for her. He hated pussies who couldn’t take a little bit of pain, but seeing her eyes watering with tears every time she’d rolled onto her back had damn near broken his heart.
Since she hadn’t fallen asleep until the wee hours, he hadn’t had the heart to wake her early. Neither of them had to be at work until noon, so they’d stayed in bed until nine.
It had almost seemed cruel to force her into the shower with antibacterial soap, but Trent had seen the aftermath of tattoos that hadn’t been taken care of properly.
When he’d pulled out the cream, Harper had run from him, although where she thought she was going to go wearing only a tiny pair of gray boy shorts he had no idea.
Pinning her down on the bed by sitting across her butt was the only solution.
“I swear, honey, this will make it feel better. You know that. This is what, your third time?”
“Doesn’t make it any better than the first. It’s almost worse because I know what’s coming.”
He squeezed some of the cream onto his fingertips and rubbed it in gently.
“You know,” he said, leaning forward over her, his arms taking the weight to keep him off her back until he could whisper in her ear. “Speaking of coming, I could probably have taken you like this last night.”
When he’d finally gotten her home from the studio, he’d encouraged her to be on top. If she wanted more from him, he was willing, ready, and able.
“I hate you right now,” she grumbled, but her ass lifted and rubbed against him in disagreement.
“Mmm,” he groaned, “I really like how much you hate me.”
He felt her laugh as her chest vibrated underneath his hands. “Show me how much you like how much I hate you.” Harper’s voice was like silk wrapping around him.
Sliding her underwear down over her ass, he laid a trail of soft kisses along the white unadorned skin. She was starting to get some color elsewhere now that she’d ditched the SPF 100. It was going to look amazing when it was all over.
“Trent Vincent Andrews!” came a voice from inside the condo.
“What was that?” Harper jumped. Trent grimaced. The morning was about to get a lot more entertaining.
“Are you home, sweetheart?”
Harper’s eyes went wide. “Vincent?”
Trent jumped off the bed and threw the cover over Harper. “My mom shows up, you’re naked, I have a raging hard-on, and yet you focus on my middle name?”
“I didn’t see you as a Vincent,” she said, giggling into the comforter as he pulled on last night’s jeans before running his hand through his hair.
“You have five minutes. Take a clean T-shirt from this drawer if you need one.” He pulled one out for himself and pulled it over his head. “Shorts in the bottom one.”
“What? No … get her out of here … I’m not meeting her like this,” she hissed as the sound of footsteps headed toward the bedroom. “Go cut her off.”
“Five minutes,” he mouthed at her with a wink before heading out the door.
* * *
Harper cursed as she slammed her head into the pillow. Meeting parents was not part of the game plan.
Jumping from the bed, she sprinted to the bathroom and pulled a brush through her still-damp hair. She rummaged through her purse for a hair elastic and quickly put her hair up in a messy bun.
Thankfully, she carried a small makeup purse, though it usually saw little action. She curled her eyelashes quickly and then flicked on a quick coat of mascara. Pushing the lip-gloss wand in and out of the tube to coat it, she took a good look at herself. Yep, she looked like she’d just had sex. Which she had, in the shower.
She’d put her dress over the back of a chair last night. With a quick shake, it looked like it could get away with another wearing. Unable to stand the thought of tying the bikini strings across her back, she’d rely on the little built-in shelf for support instead.
With less than a minute on the clock, she quickly put in her earrings and fastened her necklace before giving herself one last glance in the tall mirror that hung by the dresser.
The white flashing light on her phone caught her attention. It could wait, couldn’t it? Harper looked toward the kitchen, where she could hear Trent and his mom laughing.
She swiped the phone’s screen with her finger.
An out-of-state number, but a different one than from the previous messages.
Father wrongdoer cheek abasement. I’ll be seeing you soon.
Harper grabbed the dresser to steady herself, her heart racing and her hands clammy.
She forwarded the text to Lydia and looked toward the door. Taking one last deep breath to steady her nerves, she opened it.
Trent’s mom sat on one of the breakfast stools talking to her son, who was putting a filter into the coffeemaker. Harper would never have guessed that she was old enough to have a son Trent’s age. She was as petite as he was huge. Perfectly put together, she wore fitted jeans and a beautifully cut white jacket. She and her dark-haired, heavily tattooed son didn’t even look related. All the genes must have come from his dad.
“Your dad is just parking with Kit. She wanted to surprise you, seeing we didn’t get to see you for your birthday.”
“Well, I’m definitely surprised. You couldn’t have texted when you were thirty minutes away?” They both laughed.
He turned to get cups from the cupboard and saw Harper standing just off in the hallway. Damn those dimples. Did he have to make her melt every time she saw him?
He tilted his head to the speakers. “Tito and Tarantula. ‘After Dark.’ Blues-based drums, but sometimes almost metal guitar. Robert Rodriguez is a big fan.”
He walked around the counter and held out his hand to her before pulling her in to him.
“Mom, this is my girl, Harper. Harper, this is my mom, Diana Andrews.”
Diana grinned at the two of them before standing and enveloping Harper in a fierce hug. Harper flinched from a blend of pain from the tattoo and the still-present fear that only Trent had managed to defeat. Hopefully Diana didn’t take it personally.
“Well, aren’t you just as pretty as a picture? It’s so good to meet you, Harper. I must apologize for my very poor etiquette. Had I known Trent had company I would have knocked, but Kit gave me her key and I was just so excited to see my son.” Her blue eyes were bright with excitement as she continued. “Come sit while Trent makes us both coffee, and you can tell me about yourself.” Diana patted the stool next to her.
With a quick kiss to her forehead, Trent left her to continue making their drinks.
Where to start? Oh yes, I’m practically a haphephobic who is on the run from a psychotic asshat who tried to kill me. Great first impression.
“I’m twenty-eight, almost twenty-nine. It’s my birthday this month.” She looked to Trent, who raised one eyebrow at her. She hadn’t told him. Whoops. “I work at José’s, which is a small café, with my best friend, Drea. There’s not much to tell.”
“Where are you originally from? That doesn’t sound like a Florida accent.” Harper panicked, trying to think of a plausible lie. Why couldn’t she remember any of her stock answers to personal questions? Lying used to be so much easier.
The buzzer to the condo interrupted her, and Diana jumped to her feet. “Oh, they’re here. Wait ’til they see the two of you. It’s going to knock them on their asses.”
Trent leaned over the counter and reached for her hand, pulling her close. “Say whatever you need to say to feel safe, darlin’,” he whispered. “We can undo it all later if we need to.”
* * *
“I keep meaning
to tell you, Harp—I’m going to be gone a few days. I have to go to LA next week on business.” After grappling for a week with telling Harper the truth of why he was going, he’d decided against it. Granted, though, telling her in a restaurant in front of his family might not be the best idea he’d ever had.
The quick flash of disappointment that crossed her face did nothing to ease his guilt. “I’ve always wanted to go there,” Harper said softly. “I’d go to the Getty Center in the morning, Santa Monica Pier in the afternoon, and then Mann’s Chinese Theatre in the evening.” She let out a soft laugh that warmed him. “Not that I know if those things are even remotely close together. What are you going to do there?”
“Are you going to see Shane?” Kit’s crush on the guy was no secret, but thankfully one-sided, given that he was over a decade older than she was. Truth was, even if she’d been his age, Shane was a sucker for a woman with curves—real big curves—and Kit’s trim, athletic frame would have put her out of the running.
“Yeah, I’m going to check out his new tattoo shop, take one of his bikes up the coast, and go to the annual ink expo with him and Juliette,” he replied, chuckling at Kit’s grimace. Her nose piercing sparkled as she scrunched up her face in response to Shane’s wife’s name.
Didn’t it figure that LA was somewhere Harper would want to visit? Just when he couldn’t feel any worse about lying to her. Thank God, literally, that there wasn’t a circle in hell for the sin of omission. If there was, he was certainly going there when the big guy called. Assuming there was a big guy. Something Trent wasn’t absolutely sure of.
A part of him wanted to share the news about the TV show with her. To have someone to share his excitement with. But how would she respond if he didn’t get it? Could he live with disappointing her?
The Strongest Steel Page 19