by Nikki Winter
“You didn’t?”
“No.” Konstantine shook his head. “I came back so I could take as many opportunities as possible to feel you up and enjoy every moment of it. Mainly because over the last six years I’ve become a sex depraved pervert with nothing better to do during his vacation than proceed with all the evil plans that the teenage me—who gave you your first kiss—made.”
Harper blinked. “I think I liked it better when you were silent and trying to molest me.”
“Oh.” He shrugged. “Good.” Without saying anything else, he took up his previous space once again.
***
He’d brought up the kiss. Why’d he have to bring up that goddamned kiss? Harper had shoved that one moment to the darkest, deepest recesses of her mind, determined to forget it ever happened, and yet here they were. She was starting to panic the more they stayed like this. Her nipples were getting harder, the lips of her vagina now wet and sticky.
She could remember that day like it had happened just a few short minutes ago. But she didn’t want to think about it, did she? Harper didn’t want to recall the smirk on Koz’s face when he told her it was time to pay up. She didn’t want to think about the way his mouth felt brushing over her own, the gentle swipe of his lips making her face warm, the heat spreading all over in a matter of seconds.
She didn’t want to consider the curious grin Konstantine had shot her after pulling back, his blue eyes asking her if he was doing it right. Harper hadn’t known one way or another but it had felt right. That was all that mattered at the time.
Kissing someone, aside from the occasional affectionate peck she gave her parents or Owen, had been different but nice. A little too nice if the way seventeen-year-old Konstantine’s hands had come up to frame her face was any indication. And when she’d opened her mouth...
“Stop thinking so hard,” Konstantine suddenly groused, pulling her thoughts back. “You’re ruining things again.”
Harper rolled her eyes. “I’m sorry if my using silent brain power is messing up your attempts to fondle me.”
“They aren’t attempts.” With one huge hand, he reached up and palmed her left breast, briefly squeezing. With a grin, he let go. “See? I actually did that.”
It was totally justified when she kicked him off her bed.
“Ow.” He sat up. “Rude!”
“Oh, shut up and come downstairs to eat before I decide to throw you out a window.”
“You know, all these threats of maiming and physical disfigurement are just making me horny.”
Harper sucked in a deep breath. “Well, then, you better find out what one of your catwalk exes is doing. Because I’ve seen your cock, once, and what I witnessed was not enough to ever make me want to pants you again.”
His eyes narrowed on her. “We were ten and it was cold!”
She snorted. “It’s even colder in my bedroom.” With that said, she walked out, expecting him to follow.
***
Konstantine watched her stroll out of the room, his head cocking as his stare suddenly focused on the queen-sized bed in front of him. A small smile curved his lips. “Not for long, Sweets. Not for long...”
Four
“So...you two fucked yet?”
Harper couldn’t answer her sister-in-law’s question. It might’ve had something to do with the piece of cookie lodged in her throat. When she finally stopped gasping for air, and the good Lord’s face didn’t seem to be off in the distance behind her closed lids, she rasped, “What...is...wrong...with...you?”
Janet blinked. “Oh. I’m sorry. Are we pretending you don’t want to fuck him?”
Eyes closing, Harper groaned, “Why are you in my establishment?”
“Because happy hour doesn’t begin for a while, I don’t wanna go back to work yet. and look”—she spread her arms out, pointing to several trays that lined the island of Sweet Treats—“Cookies!”
“If I find you wine, will it hush you?”
Janet shrugged. “Probably not.”
“Jesus,” Harper muttered then moved around her kitchen, taking out what was needed for her next dessert.
“Okay, do we need to step into the confines of the cone?”
“Please don’t talk about the cone.”
“Oh, we’re talking about the cone.” Janet grabbed a stool and sat.
Harper could feel Janet’s gaze following her all around the room until she finally threw up her hands. “Okay! Cone of silence!”
The other woman clapped. “Yes!” She waved a hand. “Talk to me.”
Sighing, Harper leaned against one of the islands. “I dunno what it is but he—”
“Makes you wanna fuck him?” Janet nodded. “I totally get it, homie.”
“You’re married.”
Her sister-in-law looked from side to side. “Did I lose my eyesight on my wedding day? I don’t remember losing my eyesight on my wedding day.”
“No, but I almost lost my eyesight on your wedding day.”
Janet smirked. “That’s what happens when you don’t knock.”
“Normal people save the honeymoon sex for the actual honeymoon.”
“Yeah, normal people oppressed by traditionalism. Which is exactly why I didn’t wear white that day.”
It was Harper’s turn to smirk. “Yeah, that’s the reason why you didn’t wear white.”
“See?” Janet nodded. “Oppressed by traditionalism. It wouldn’t have been so strange to you if you weren’t.”
“I don’t like it when you make me think. Stop making me think!”
Chuckling, she said, “So then stop thinking and fuck Koz.”
“Its not that easy.”
“Why not?” And Janet looked genuinely confused when she asked that. “All you need is a room and condoms. Both of which are optional if you’re anything like your brother.”
“Lord, take me now...”
Janet suddenly gasped. “Oh, my God! Are you having problems? You know...” She did some weird side-to-side motion with her neck. “Getting there? I mean...they have products to help with that.”
“This conversation is officially over!” The last thing Harper was having trouble with was arousal around Konstantine. Four days and the man had her on edge like a puberty-stricken kid. Her home suddenly felt too small. Used to being her own company, having Konstantine around the house was doing some strange things to her libido.
She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t examined why her relationships never worked out. Harper knew why. Because no one could ever replace her Koz. He was goofy and funny and intelligent and loving and strong and just goddamned amazing. Every relationship she’d attempted had failed because each one of them saw what she refused to—there was something more between her and Konstantine.
Doubts kept her from speaking about it, too afraid that whatever it was would shatter as soon as it was exposed.
That was the exact reason why she was hiding out in Sweet Treats. She’d closed things down early so she could focus on some of the lesser orders, leaving the others for her staff. Baking always calmed her. Although at the moment it wasn’t working the way she needed it to. Konstantine was still in her thoughts. She’d been avoiding him as much as possible over the last few days. The task wasn’t exactly hard with him spending so much time with Owen and his father.
It had been a while since Harper had a man in her space, but something told her it didn’t have anything to do with her self-imposed celibacy. She told that same something to shut the fuck up and mind its own goddamn business because she was not about to sit and examine why every erogenous zone on her body lit up when Konstantine was near her.
They were friends. That was it. She loved him the way she loved Janet. Who, by the way, was staring at her again.
“What? Why are you looking at me?”
“Because I’m trying to understand why you just don’t go for it.”
Harper rubbed her temples. “I’m not you.”
“Which means what
exactly?”
“Debauchery isn’t on my agenda every morning.”
“It’s not on mine either. I save that for Tuesday through Saturday. When Sunday and Monday roll around I avoid the general populace.”
“Or they’re avoiding you.”
“Why would they do that? I’m wonderful.” She waggled her brows then grabbed a cookie from the cooling sheets. “Besides, you don’t need to be me to make it so Konstantine wants to tattoo your name above his junk and call you mistress.”
“Okay, if this is gonna turn into a story about you and Owen, just please...stop.”
Janet sighed loudly. “Why won’t you just let me guide you...like a mythical being?”
“Because that would make you a succubus.”
“I’m kinda okay with that...”
Harper made her way to where she kept the dessert wines and grabbed a bottle before going for a glass and sitting both in front of the other woman. “Please, for the love of God. Drink.” Harper loved Janet, she really did—couldn’t imagine life without her—but Koz said it best when he’d said her sister-in-law and brother took the word inappropriate as a goddamn challenge.
“Yo! Little sis.”
Speaking of which... Harper looked up in time to see her brother strolling through the doors of her kitchen. Owen stopped suddenly, brown eyes widening as he spotted his wife. “You’re in a kitchen...and nothing’s on fire yet.”
Janet smirked at him before intoning in a voice that she’d use for her beloved dog, “Look who’s not interested in having sex tonight!”
He snorted. “As if you could actually hold out.”
Her leer spoke volumes.
Harper took a moment to shudder. “How about the two of you have this conversation somewhere else? Like in China?”
Janet and Owen were college sweethearts. It was a pretty cute story once Harper got past the fact that Janet had been convinced Harper was sleeping with her own brother. The thing of it was, she and Owen were opposites in looks. He looked more like their father, David, with a strong jaw, darker skin, eyes, and hair while she favored their mother, Elena.
On campus at NYU years ago, they often got confused for a couple instead of siblings, which resulted in Janet finally asking bluntly, “Are you fucking Owen Sweet?” after she spotted Harper leaving her brother’s dorm one night. Harper was so startled that, for a moment, she stood there with her mouth hanging open. Janet didn’t move, didn’t blink, at least not until Harper silently pulled her student ID from her back pocket and handed it over.
That just led to Janet’s eyes widening before she softly said, “Oh...well, this is awkward.”
And from the ashes of a socially uncomfortable, borderline talk-show moment, rose a friendship, and a marriage, and more socially uncomfortable, borderline talk-show moments. Like now, when they were giving each other the eyes.
“Okay, stop it or get out.” Harper demanded.
“Somebody’s grumpy,” Owen sang, swiping a cookie. “How can she be grumpy with all these cookies around?”
“I have no idea.” Janet murmured around a mouthful. “And she has wine, too... Something’s wrong with her.”
“I think I know what it is,” he replied, smirking.
“Owen...” Harper warned.
Then he started singing the Russian national anthem, loudly. The worst part? Janet joined in.
“I hate you both.”
Chuckling as he approached her, Harper’s brother threw one arm around her shoulder. “Aww, is having Koz around driving you nutters?”
“Its driving her something...” Janet murmured, smirking.
Harper narrowed her eyes on her sister-in-law.
Owen looked at his wife. “Huh?”
“Nothing,” Janet said quickly. “Have another cookie.” She picked it up and stuffed it in his mouth.
Taking a bite, he swung his head between both his sister and her. “What are you not telling me?” He stared at Harper. “Did Koz do something to piss you off already?”
“Are you asking because you care or because you want to laugh at my expense?”
His blink was slow and innocent. “Because I care, of course.”
From behind him, Janet coughed, but for some reason it sounded distinctly like, “Bullshit!”
“Quiet, mischievous female!” Owen barked.
“Because I do so well deferring to your authority.” And yes, her tone was completely sarcastic.
His brows winged. “Do I need to tell Sweets about how obedient you really can be?”
Janet chuckled. “Oh, please do.”
Harper grimaced. “Please don’t.”
“But, there’s candle wax involved and—”
“Oh, fuck this.” Harper snatched off her apron and began walking the cookie trays lining the counters to the refrigerator. Once she was done, she shot a look at the reason why her life was so hard at the moment. “I’m going home. Lock up and don’t fuck in my kitchen.” Without another word, she found the rest of her stuff and got far, far away from them both. The freaks.
***
“You’re horrible.”
Owen made sure his face was completely blank when he looked at his wife. “What are you talking about?”
“You did that on purpose,” Janet accused.
He frowned. “I dunno what you mean.”
Her lips curled, that expression being one of his favorites. The first time she’d seen him naked, she’d had that look on her face. “You do realize you can’t bullshit a bullshitter right?”
“You’re not a bullshitter,” he stated adamantly until she shot him a stare over the rim of her glasses that made him feel like one of her students. “All the time...” Owen completed lamely.
“So you knew. That would explain you tormenting her until she decided to go back home...to Koz.”
He snorted as he reached across the counter to swipe a crumb from the corner of her mouth. “I’ve known since she was tall enough to get to the cookie tin on her own.”
“And you’re okay with it?”
Shrugging, Owen answered honestly. “I don’t call Koz my brother because I think it’s cute and secretly I’m wishing for more sleepovers where we can stay up all night playing Sega.”
Janet grinned, waggling her brows. “I think I’d enjoy that...as long as there were oils involved.”
“You have such a dirty mouth.”
Her laugh was wicked. “Which is why you married me.” Hopping off the stool, she held a hand out. “C’mon, Mr. Sweet, happy hour is around the corner. Mama needs an Irish car bomb and fries.”
He turned toward the smaller fridge that resided in his sister’s kitchen and opened it to dig out the chocolate dip Harper had made.
“Owen.” Janet shook her head. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because one, Harper said not to fuck in her kitchen, and when Harper says not to fuck in her kitchen, she means it. Two, that’s unsanitary.” She waved a hand around the space. “I eat out here. And three, you know how I feel about food play.”
His grin was as slow and as lecherous as he wanted it to be. “Who said anything about dipping you in the chocolate?”
Janet blinked, then started moving. “Why are we still here? Why are we not in the car on our way home?” She snatched up her jacket, bag, and keys, heading for the door, only stopping to say, “Grab more cookies...and the wine!”
Five
“Ah-ha!”
“Jesus Christ!” Harper dropped the bag of candy bars in her hand, swinging around to face Konstantine, who was standing in the doorway of her kitchen, one finger pointing at her accusingly.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
She looked from her empty hands to the bag on the floor. “I was just...”
“Just what?” Closing the distance between them, he snatched up the bag and shook it in her face the same way he’d done her bra days ago. “Sneaking around with candy? I see the addiction hasn’t ended.”
“I was...” Harper’s eyes suddenly narrowed as she stared at him. “Wait a goddamned minute.” She snatched the bag from him. “This is my house. I’m well past grown, and if I wanna sneak around with candy bars, I fucking well can!”
Konstantine’s eyes sparkled as he stared down at her in the low light coming from the overhead near the island. “I was wondering how long it would take you to realize that.”
She started slapping at his head.
Laughing, he gripped her wrists to stop her before picking her up and setting her on the counter. “From the way you’ve been acting, I was starting to wonder if you actually did live here, or if you were just some creepy resident hiding out in the attic, occasionally sneaking out to steal food and use the bathroom.”
Biting her lip, she focused her attention on the candy once again. “I’ve been busy.”
“You’ve been avoiding me.” He took the bag from her hands and opened it. Harper’s gaze was drawn to the way his arms flexed from the simple task. Then she became aware of the fact he wasn’t wearing anything aside from a loose-fitting pair of sweatpants that had slid low on his lean hips, the cut of his pelvic bones quite clear. In a word, Koz was built.
This was exactly what she’d been trying to stay away from—seeing him half naked. Which was why she’d chosen well after midnight to finally slip out of her room, thinking he’d be on his way to sleep by now after having spent the entire day in conference calls with Ivan. Something she knew about because he’d texted her to tell her how bored he was listening to his father argue back and forth in Japanese.
“The question,” Konstantine continued, breaking a chocolate bar in half and placing one piece between her lips and the other between his own, “is why?” He chewed, and all she could do was follow the movement of his mouth.
Harper rolled her eyes. “Get over yourself, Russian. No one’s avoiding you.” She shrugged. “I have a business to run, and friends, and—”