by Bella Andre
“Will?” She turned slightly to look up at him again, her eyes meeting his. “Is everything okay?”
He brushed her hair aside to plant a kiss on the sensitive skin of her neck. “You’re here.” He sucked her skin, leaving his mark on her, then moved up to her ear, a sweet little hot spot, and nibbled. “Everything is amazing.”
“You make me totally crazy when you do that.” She twirled and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You’re such a tease.”
He wanted to tease her right up to heaven, wanted to give her so much pleasure that she’d never, ever think about leaving him. “The word tease implies no follow-through. And believe me, I intend to follow through.” He kissed her lightly. “All—” Kiss. “—night—” Kiss. “—long.” Then he parted her lips and took her mouth, hot need spiking through him. “You’re absolutely perfect.”
“So are you.”
But he wasn’t.
Not even close.
* * *
Harper was dying for him to tear off her clothes, throw her down on the carpet, and take her right in front of the window.
That was how he always made her feel—totally wild, crazy, and out of control. But this was going to be a night for firsts: the first time in his bed, the first time with him completely naked, the first time she’d have him all night long and wake up beside him in the morning.
They’d rushed everything else, but she couldn’t bear to rush this.
Even if it killed her.
And yet, when she looked into his eyes, she saw shadows. The same shadows that had been there moments before when his whole body had tensed against her back.
“Will.” She reached for his cheek. “If something’s wrong—”
“No.” The word sounded choked. “Nothing’s wrong when you’re here. Nothing’s wrong when you’re with me.” But there was a storm in his eyes. “Let me love you, Harper. Please, just let me love you.”
His words rippled over her, through her, tugging at her heart. So even though she knew this was just supposed to be for fun, how could she say anything but, “Love me, Will.”
The next thing she knew, he tugged her dress off her shoulder and traced a finger down until it rested against her breast. Slowly pulling the material aside, he revealed the lace of her black bra. Slowly, so slowly that she nearly went crazy, he pulled the cup down until her aroused flesh finally popped free.
“Delicious,” he whispered before he bent his head.
His thick, soft hair caressed her skin, and his tongue devastated her. She held him tight as he licked her, then closed his lips around the peak and sucked.
All her electrons were firing like crazy when he raised his head and said, “More.”
He always wanted more from her. And she always gave it to him.
When she whispered “More,” he splayed a hand across her back and turned her insides to liquid with his lips and tongue.
Then his teeth scraped across her, like a live wire straight to her center. Her body shuddered, and she clung to him, gasping, writhing. It wasn’t an orgasm, but a deep, needy quaking that made her moan, clutch him tight…and beg.
“Please.”
“Whatever you want.”
“I want you naked.” Her need whispered out on a breath. “I want to see all of you.”
He was always the one taking her clothes off. But she couldn’t wait any longer to see every inch of that gloriously hard flesh.
She expected his usual grin, but just that quickly, the storm was back in his eyes as he suddenly lifted her in his arms to carry her through the dark living room. There was no hall, just a doorway off the central area. In his bedroom, city lights illuminated a four-foot rectangle in front of the window, hiding the rest in darkness. He walked unerringly to the bed and laid her down gently.
They’d been in the dark since they’d entered his apartment, but that wasn’t enough for her anymore. “I need light,” she said, “or I won’t be able to see you.” And she had to see.
He paused for a long moment, his face still grim in the shadows, before finally flicking a light switch. The lamp lit the bed, his scrumptious black tux, white shirt, and lightly mussed hair.
A dark wood bureau matched the nightstands and headboard. White tile glinted through the bathroom doorway, and a big jet tub two steps up lay just beyond in the shadows. His personal space was expensively furnished with a fabulous view and probably cost a fortune—he even had his own elevator, for goodness sake—but while it was rich, there was nothing that shouted Will’s ownership.
Instead, it looked almost lonely.
He advanced on her. “You have on too many clothes.”
He was still minus his usual grin, but the sensuality in his tone made her forget all about the room and its lack of a personal touch. There was only the huge bed and the gorgeous apartment.
And Will.
“So do you,” she agreed. And this was her turn. All the other times, he’d managed to keep even his shirt on. “I want to see you, the way you’ve seen me,” she insisted, her pulse throbbing.
He moved away from her then to snap the blinds closed, so that it was just them—no people on the street far below, no cars honking. And when he turned back to face her, she realized he’d never looked at her with such raw hunger...or such deep, tormented emotion.
“I’m all yours, Harper.”
All hers.
At least for tonight.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Harper rose slowly, shrugging the shoulders of her dress up and letting it fall back into place. For once, she was going to keep her dress intact while Will was the one exposed.
“Shoes first,” she directed.
He quickly toed them off and kicked them away.
She stepped close, talking as she undid his jacket. “I love your tux.” She loved him in the tux.
Walking around him, she slipped her fingers inside the front lapels and pulled the jacket down his arms. She folded it, laying it across a chair in the corner. Even from this angle, he was strong, muscled. She trailed a hand across his back as she circled him once more. “I’ve never tied a bow tie.”
“All you need to know is how to untie it.”
She slipped the knot, smiling as she noted, “No cummerbund.”
“I thought that would make it easier when you undressed me.”
She tsked. “You didn’t know I was going to undress you.”
“Yes, I did.” His eyes were hot.
Of course he did. Because she’d never been able to resist him, had she? But there was no time—and no need—to beat herself up about that now. Not when he was still waiting for her to undress him. And she was dying to see every last gorgeous, naked inch of him.
She cocked her head. “Hmm. Cufflinks first? Or shirt buttons?” She put a finger to her lips. He’d kissed her hard and deep, but the lipstick was long-lasting and wouldn’t smudge. She liked the idea of her lipstick against his—
“Shirt buttons,” he decided for her.
“Definitely.” She wanted to feel his skin, the sooner the better.
She pulled the shirt from his waistband and slowly unbuttoned it, her fingers caressing his flesh. The dusting of hair on his chest was soft, silky. She trailed down, and when she looked up, he was anything but unaffected. A pulse beat at his throat, and his gaze seared her. She loved the power his eyes gave her, how potent he made her feel. She pushed his shirt aside and slicked her tongue over him, eliciting another telltale quiver.
“You like?”
“You make me crazy, I like it so much.” Need turned his voice harsh.
She wanted to go straight for his belt, to see what she could only feel right now. To touch. And taste. But this was a strip tease, for both their pleasure.
Running one hand down his arm, she flicked the cufflink at his wrist and pulled it free. She did the same with the other, loving the soft plop as they hit the carpet. More touching, teasing, her hands on his skin as she walked her fingers up, to the top o
f the shirt, over his shoulders beneath the cotton, then down his strong arms. She let the shirt billow to his feet.
“You’re beautiful.” She stepped back to absorb him and couldn’t resist touching. Muscled shoulders down to pectorals and tapering into washboard abs. “And you’ve got a tattoo.”
His biceps hardened as she traced the ink’s contours. A muscle car. And over it, the stylized phrase, Road Warriors.
“Very sexy. Like Sons of Anarchy or something.”
He clenched his teeth and hissed in a breath. Then he said, “Or something.”
“Was it a club you belonged to?”
Two long beats of silence. “Yeah.”
“You’re a bad boy.” One who made her weak in the knees every single time he kissed her. “And you know how women feel about bad boys,” she teased.
“Tell me how you feel, Harper.”
Couldn’t he tell already? Didn’t he know? “It makes me hot. You make me hot.”
The air soaked up his tension, raising the hair on her arms like static electricity. Until he blinked it away...and moved her fingers to his belt.
* * *
Harper unbuckled and unzipped while he watched. Her hands were trembling slightly, but she didn’t stop, just tucked her lower lip between her teeth as she concentrated on taking off the rest of his clothes. And when her lips curved up in a little smile and she gracefully dropped to her knees...oh hell, he nearly lost it right then and there. Nearly tore her dress from her and took her the way he’d been wanting to take her all night long.
“You’re gorgeous.” There was no artifice in her voice, just reverent awe.
He kicked aside the pile of his clothing. “You’ve seen me before.”
Still down on her knees, she tipped her head back, her hair falling in waves around her shoulders. Will’s heart thumped hard knowing she was his for this night. He’d waited so damn long and now his hands shook, just as hers had when she was undressing him. He fisted them in her hair to hide it.
“Only parts of you.” Her gaze was soft, her lips sweet. “The parts you’ve let me see. Tonight is the first time I’m seeing all of you.”
Jesus, she had no idea what she was saying, did she? No idea that she’d just seen more of him than any other woman had. She hadn’t balked at his tattoo. She’d thought it was sexy. But it would lose all its sexiness if she knew what it really meant.
She leaned in to swipe her tongue along his length and his thoughts scattered as everything inside him clenched, coiled, made ready to pounce. She smiled as though she knew exactly what she did to him.
“You still have all your clothes on,” he somehow managed to say.
He wanted her naked. On the bed. Spread out. He’d never wanted anyone this intensely, with every cell primed, each sense attuned. Only Harper. Her scent was sweet, with the added spice of arousal. Her fingers were silk caressing his skin. Her kiss was a drug he couldn’t get enough of.
“We’re even, then,” she replied, “since I’m always the one who’s naked.”
Susan had said he needed to let Harper know how he felt. There were so many things—need, desire, amazement, love. But right now all he could get his brain to manage was, “I need you, Harper.” He pulled her to her feet and unzipped the cocktail dress. Pressing kisses to her spine as the material slid down and pooled at her feet, he licked the sensitive hollow at the base. The last to go was her bra. Standing behind her, he cupped her breasts in his hands. “I need you so damned much.” Her head back against his shoulder, she arched into his palms, silently begging.
Until tonight, he’d tried to play it cool with her, teased her, made her climax in ways he was sure she never had before. But he’d never completely let go. Not even the night in his ’57 Chevy. Even then, he’d been aware of every action he took, calculating whether it gave her what she craved. Letting go was risky.
But if he didn’t let go—and if he didn’t let her in—then all he could ever be to her was some hot sex on the hood of his car or in the front seat of his Chevy. But he wanted so much more with Harper. Needed more with every cell in his body, with every heartbeat, every breath.
He reached around her and dragged the coverlet down the bed, tugging the blanket and sheet to the bottom. He picked her up and was so far out on the edge of reason that he all but tossed her onto the bed.
He went to her nipples first, licking, sucking, until she arched against him. “The way you taste.” He swiped his tongue across a peak. “The sounds you make. The way your body begs for more. All of you makes me crazy, Harper.”
She threaded her hands through his hair. “You make me crazy, too.”
He crawled up her body, then rolled until she was on top. Spreading her legs over him, he pulled her hips down, riding her center without actually entering her. She was slick and hot. She curled her body around him, her hips moving up into his, quaking, gasping, her heart beating so hard he could feel it.
He’d never felt so wild with a woman as when he hauled her up, clamped his hands on her hips, and pulled her to his mouth. Jesus, she was sweet. Wet. He held her to him, drinking her in. He circled, spiraling down slowly until he touched the center of her pleasure.
Above him, she grabbed the headboard, her hips undulating, her body directing him, telling him how to move, where to kiss. He kneaded her hips in his hands, increasing the friction, the pleasure. Her sounds filled the room, gasps, sighs, little cries. He was voracious, consuming her as she shuddered, trembled.
And came completely apart for him.
But it wasn’t enough. He couldn’t let her go. Not yet. He had only enough thought left to grab a condom from the drawer before he came down between her legs. “Look at me.”
She opened her eyes, fuzzy with sated pleasure. “I don’t know who’s crazier anymore.”
“We’re crazy together.” Then he thrust home.
Closing his eyes, he held still, absorbed the feel of her around him. “So good,” he whispered. “So perfect.”
There was sex. And then there was this. One was merely physical. This was body and soul.
He pulled her leg to his waist and moved, slowly at first. She shuddered, circled his shoulders with her arms, and as she brought her other leg up, she looked into his eyes and whispered, “It’s too good.”
“It could never be too good.”
He held her hips, falling into her, retreating, then moving in deep again. Every muscle bunched, his blood pounded. And he could feel her around him, taking him, holding him tight. He could stay here forever.
Then she moaned. Her breath hitched. And he knew she was climbing again. He had to go with her this time, needed to jump off right along with her. Pumping faster, harder, going deeper, he steeped himself in her, “Harper. God. Yes. So good,” falling from his lips.
Her heart thudded hard with his. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and smelled their salty-sweet scent, tasted her on his tongue. The heat of her skin became his heat. Her body was indistinguishable from his. And when she convulsed around him, she dragged him over the edge with her.
He heard her name on his lips. He heard her cry out his.
Then his voice saying, “I love you.”
* * *
I love you.
Harper’s body, her head—but especially her heart—were all spinning as she tried to make sense of what had just happened. And what he’d just said.
“Harper?” He eased to his side, taking some of his weight from her, even as his arm tightened around her. “I love you.”
He’d put his hand on her cheek and turned her face to his as if he’d known she wouldn’t quite be able to process those three little words the first time he said them. And it was so tempting to say them back, her own I love you, too, right there on the tip of her tongue.
But the words wouldn’t come, almost as if they were locked up tight inside her, and she couldn’t find the key.
She could tell him about her fears—that he’d tire of her and Jeremy, that
surely he couldn’t want to take both of them on when all the other men she’d come across had been horrified at the thought. But she already knew what he’d say—I’m not like them. And he wasn’t, because she knew how kind and generous he was.
Unfortunately, that fact didn’t change the others—his money, his lifestyle, or his ability to take whatever he wanted.
Harper knew her own self-worth, and yet, with the penthouse apartment, the limo, and the glittering jewels of all the people fawning over Will tonight... honestly, she couldn’t help but feel out of her depth. It had been like being tossed straight into the deep end when she was only just learning to swim.
More than anything, she wanted to love with her full heart and soul. All the way, nothing held back. Wanted it more than she’d ever wanted anything in her life. And she knew he’d talk her out of every single doubt.
But how could she tell him she loved him unless she was able to talk herself out of those doubts?
When she looked back up at him, he was frowning. Her throat felt tight, her chest ached, and she wished she could tell him what he wanted to hear. Wished she was ready, that she was already there. “Will—”
Before she could try to figure out what else to say, he surprised her yet again by saying, “You’re smart not to say it back to me, Harper.”
Wait...he didn’t want her to say she loved him? Why would she be smart to hold a part of herself back from him?
But before she could voice any of those questions, he said, “You should know I’m not a nice guy. That’s why I haven’t told you how I felt about you. Because I’m not good enough for you. And yet I can’t make myself stay away even though I should.”
Not good enough for her? Will Franconi thought he was the one who wasn’t good enough?
All of this made her head whirl. It was happening so fast and was all so unexpected. Not just how sweet he’d been from the first day she and Jeremy had met him, but also how much he’d done for them since. And how much she wanted to let herself love him, all the way, with nothing held back. This was just supposed to be a thrill ride. But somehow, it had turned into so much more. And now that everything she’d been telling herself was true had spun on its ear, she didn’t know what to think. Or how to feel.