Bliss Series Boxed Set: The Whole Damn Harem

by B. J. Harvey

  When I continue, my voice is low and full of grit. “I want to know whether you’ll still scream my name until your voice is hoarse when my mouth is on you …” I lean in to place a gentle lingering kiss on her soft red lips before kissing her cheek with the same treatment, then whispering in her ear, “Whether you’ll still tremble when my cock’s buried deep inside you, our bodies so close you can’t tell where yours ends and mine begins.”

  Her eyes turn dark and her body unconsciously lean toward mine, and I realize that if I don’t end this now, I’ll push her too far, too fast. I take a step back and try to reel in the unbridled desire pulsing through my body. She looks down and sees exactly how I’m feeling right now, and when her eyes snap back to mine I decide to press my case, using all the confidence and bravado I’m known for in the courtroom.

  “But these are all things we can discuss at dinner. I’ll call you with the reservation details. Now I must check on my impromptu house guest before I get back to my case. Do you need me to show you the way out?”

  She looks at me a heartbeat too long before breathlessly answering, “No.”

  Fuck if I don’t feel that deep in my groin.

  I give a short sharp nod of approval before spinning on my heel and walking toward the hallway. The string may be stretching between us as I leave but not once do I feel it snap and recoil.

  My week is suddenly looking brighter.

  Chapter 8

  “Can’t Remember To Forget You”

  Sam

  “What the fuck was I thinking, Helen? Dinner with Sean? That’s it. I’m calling to cancel.”

  “No, you’re fucking not. You’re going to finish getting dressed, you’re going to go to that restaurant, and you’re going to show Sean Miller that you are even more of a knockout than you used to be. You’re going to sit down and have a friendly meal with the man. You’ll be cordial, witty, charming, and funny. All of the things we both know you can be. You’re not going to shut down on him, you’re not going to brush him off and, repeat after me, you’re not going to go to bed with him.”

  “But … what?”

  “You heard me …”

  “Helen, like hell that is going to happen. This is a dinner between old friends.”

  “You two were never old friends. You were made for each other. Well, I thought so until the lingering doubts in your head were fed and cultivated and you fucked it all up.”

  “Why am I friends with you again?” I ask, half serious and half deflecting. She’s right, of course, but I’m pushing back the need to admit that she’s one hundred percent right.

  “Because you love me and I’m the annoying voice of reason at the back of your head that you need to hear when you’re thinking about being a dumbass.” She giggles and I struggle to hold back a smile.

  “See! That’s what you needed to hear. A good ol’ Helen pep talk before the big game.”

  “Game?”

  “You and Sean. I’d love to be a fly on the wall in the restaurant. I just know the sexual tension is going to be epic.” She claps her hands in glee. “I’m kind of glad there is finally a man with brass balls in your life again.”

  “Helen!” I growl.

  “What? You cannot tell me that Tanner is not a pussycat in the sack. I’ve seen that guy around and I’ve seen him around you. He’s a pussy whipped sap who would let you spank his ass and literally bust his balls.”

  “He is not a pussycat in the sack. He’s a pussycat out of bed,” I retort with a smirk.

  I think back to last night when Tanner had turned up on my doorstep, disrupting me from my CSI New York episode. “Tanner,” I mumbled through a yawn as I answered the front door wearing a tank top, pajama shorts and purple fluffy slippers. Turning up unannounced was not an uncommon occurrence for him, but knowing that I had dinner with Sean the next night, I wasn’t in the mood for company. My mind changed when he presented me with a tub of Ben & Jerry’s ‘Karamel Sutra’ ice cream. He had the cutest grin on his face, so I couldn't turn him away after that, could I?

  “Baby, you didn’t reply to my text so I thought I’d head over with dessert. That’s okay, right?”

  Tanner, the sweet, hot as fuck, sensitive new aged guy who’s been a frequent inhabitant in my bed for the past few months. He caught my eye when I was at the academy working as a field training officer. I’d needed a work out and decided to join in with a bunch of recruits who were working their way through circuit training. When Tanner knelt in front of me and held my feet down while I did sit ups, it was one of those swoon worthy moments where our eyes met, the air crackled between us, and his huge white smile did me in.

  Much to Tanner’s chagrin, I could only offer him a physical relationship, not an emotional one. We went out for a drink after work where I explained this to him. After the impromptu date, he was the perfect gentleman and walked me to my door. He then moved toward me, forcing me back until my body was flush against the wood paneling of the doorway and proceeded to kiss the shit out of me. It was soft, almost cautious at first, then the moment I opened my mouth to him, he went in for the kill. Long, languid strokes of his tongue explored my mouth with such enthusiasm and passion I was left a panting mess when he finally pulled away, resting his head against my forehead while he recovered. When I whispered in his ear asking if he wanted to come inside with me, he stood up straight and looked down at me. His eyes widened in surprise before he reached around me and pushed the door open. He gently moved me inside and shut the door behind us. I don’t think we made it to the bedroom that first time, or the second. By the third round, we were at the slow, lazy, sleepy sex stage and the bed was the most comfortable place to be.

  That was the first night of many that Tanner and I ended up in bed together. We occasionally work out together, we share a meal once in a while, and we’ve attended work functions as the other’s plus one, but it’s always been a ‘friends with benefits’ situation. I didn’t go after an arrangement like the one we have, but it fits into my life perfectly. I know Tanner wants more, he’s always wanted more, and I don’t miss the looks of adoration he shoots my way when he thinks I’m not looking.

  But Tanner, for all his fantastic qualities in and out of the bedroom, is not who my heart truly desires. He makes me hot, but he doesn’t make my blood boil. He has the stamina of a teenager and can provide encore performances over and over again, but he doesn’t have me panting with need, desperate to be touched and begging to be taken.

  Only one man has ever had that effect on me. And my reaction to him as well as ideas that were planted in my head that I allowed to take root, is why I ran from him all those years ago. Not that he knows that.

  Having already had a memorable visit with Sean earlier in the day, when Tanner moved close to me on the couch and started stroking my bare leg, moving his fingers in tender, wide circles higher and higher, I had to put a stop to it. There was no way I could sleep with Tanner when the only man in my head was a dark haired, blue-eyed dominant who had my body burning with spoken words and unspoken promises.

  So here I am, 7.30 p.m. on a Friday night, putting the final touches of my makeup on while Helen acts as the good angel on my shoulder. Sean called me yesterday afternoon saying that he had an eight o’clock reservation for us. When I tried to probe him for more information, he chuckled and called my enthusiasm endearing.

  For the record, Sean chuckling … actually, anything resembling laughter from him is as rare as a Sasquatch sighting. It happens, but the occurrences are so few and far between that it’s a beautiful sight to see and hear when he did. It’s not that he was so tightly strung that he couldn’t laugh, or didn’t want to. No, the Sean of my past had an intensity about him, a presence that you felt whenever he was in the room with you. He was like a silent assassin. He would sit back and study people, trying to get a read of them without uttering a single word. And from what I’ve seen of the Sean of today, that intensity has increased tenfold with a carnal edge that is just too much to take
… yet so irresistible.

  “Earth to Sammmmmm,” Helen calls out teasingly as I’m snapped back into reality.

  I shake my head to clear Sean from my head momentarily.

  “Sam, seriously hon. Don’t overthink this. Just go with your gut. As you said, even though I don’t believe you, this is just two friends having dinner and catching up on what they’ve missed. Just be careful, okay? And whatever you do, don’t let what you did in the past stop you from doing anything now. Regret is a pointless emotion unless you learn something from it. In your case, you—”

  “I learned not to listen to everything I’m told and to make up my own goddamned mind instead of listening to others,” I finish for her.

  She stands up from my bed where she has been lying down and walks over to the dresser where I’m getting ready. Standing behind me, she puts her hand on my forearm and looks at me in the mirror. Her gaze softens, her eyes full of understanding. “You know …”

  “Yep,” I reply. “Figured that one out after the damage had been done. But by then, I’d already seen him at the dorm party with Jennifer Murray and the rest, they say, is history. You’d remember that night. You were the one I came crying to.” I smile half-heartedly at her and she gives me a gentle squeeze of encouragement just as my front doorbell rings.

  “Well, there is no Jennifer hanging around now, is there?” She wiggles her eyebrows and we both crack up laughing.

  Chapter 9

  “Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word”

  Sean

  All day I’ve been willing time to speed up. When I last saw Sammy she was standing in the middle of my living room looking stunned, speechless, and turned on. When I rang her yesterday to confirm dinner for tonight, she sounded surprised that I’d called so soon. Strangely enough, she never asked how I got her number. I guess she assumed I got it off Ryan.

  Speaking of my errant baby brother, he’s stuck to himself the past two days. We’ve arranged for him to return to work next Tuesday, and this weekend I’ll be sitting down with my PI to put some measures in place to protect myself in case things start to turn south. I’ve already asked him to look into Ryan’s affairs and try to find out exactly what and who we’re dealing with and I’m hoping he’ll have some answers for me when we meet.

  Until then, I have the company of the delectable Miss Richards to look forward to. I’m not nervous about dinner. In fact, I’m looking forward to finding out all that has happened in her life since we broke up.

  It may seem like this huge mystery as to why Sam ended our relationship and never spoke to me again, but that is because it is a mystery, to me. But I hope to learn a lot more about that by reconnecting with her again. However, I meant every word I said to her yesterday. Seeing her again has reignited something inside of me, something that was snuffed out a long time ago. I need Sam in my life; she brings color to an otherwise black and white world. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not unhappy or depressed, I’ve got a successful career, a thriving club, and I’m never short on options for female companionship. The thing is, I never realized how much I was settling until I saw Sam again.

  She is more radiant, more magnificent than she ever was. When I first met her, Samantha Richards took my breath away. Yesterday, seeing her in my house in painted on jeans and a tight tee, she was an instant fucking hard on wrapped up in fabric.

  Now I’m in a town car headed toward her apartment. All of a sudden, my stomach tightens and for the first time in years I feel nervous as I walk up the few steps to her door.

  She opens the door just as I reach the top step and I’m frozen on the spot as I take her in. Her sun-colored hair is tied back in a high ponytail, and I swear that her flawless face is more beautiful than yesterday. My heart stutters as my gaze moves down her body which is covered in a simple yet elegant red dress. Her matching red heels make her silky smooth legs look impossibly long, which just leads my heated stare back over the curve of her hips and the swell of her breasts before meeting her eyes again. Then I see the impish gleam in her eye and it becomes glaringly obvious that she’s succeeded in her desire in driving me to distraction. All of it just reaffirms to me the fact I want Sam back in my life.

  “You look gorgeous.’ My gravelly voice resonates between us as I try to recover my scattered thoughts. She unravels me and she doesn’t even realize.

  Looking to the ground, she blushes, obviously uncomfortable with my compliment. It makes me wonder what kind of men she’s had in her life since me. I was taught by my grandfather that a man worth anything at all will tell a woman how much he adores her, showing her with his actions that he’s the luckiest son of a bitch on earth to be with her.

  And right now, I want to be that son of a bitch.

  “Your carriage awaits.” She looks up and past my shoulder at the car idling at the curb.

  “Oh, right … just let me lock up.” I smirk, loving that she’s off balance again. “What can I say? Once a cop, always a cop.”

  “It suits you, you know. It makes sense. I always wondered what you pursued after college.”

  She turns and hurriedly locks the door, spinning back around to face me. I need to touch her again. The fleeting moment between us yesterday was not enough. All night, instead of focusing on my upcoming case, I was thinking of all the things I wanted to do to her. I dreamed of touching her, exploring every inch of her skin, tasting her …

  “Hey, are you okay?” she asks, snapping me out of my thoughts and I realize she’s taken a step toward me. “You were a million miles away.”

  “Sorry. You’ve kind of thrown me for a loop.” I lean forward, placing my hands on her bare shoulders and slowly stroking down her skin, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake. Our eyes stay locked as I move back to cup her shoulders and I clear my throat, trying to strengthen my resolve to get answers from her. “We should go before I make a whole new set of plans, and none of them involve dinner.”

  “Yes, let’s go,” she replies quickly. I take her hand and give her a light reassuring squeeze before I lead her down into the car.

  Once the car is on its way, she pulls her hand away and inconspicuously places it back in her lap.

  I see her shoulders straighten as she turns toward me. “So, where are we going? You were rather mysterious on the phone.”

  “Well, I remember a long time ago we talked about traveling, and you always said you wanted to travel around Africa.” I raise my brow, waiting for her affirmation. She nods and a sly smile graces her lips. “That’s why we’re heading to a great Ethiopian restaurant one of the partners recommended.”

  “Oh, wow, if it’s the one I’m thinking of, I’ve wanted to go there forever.” I grin at the emergence of goofy Sam. Her true nature, the one I suspect she endeavors to hide away from most people, is one of her most endearing qualities. She was always one of the most ‘real’ people I knew. There were no pretenses and no falsities; what you see is what you get with Sam.

  One of the biggest issues in our relationship was Sam’s submissive side; a wrongly perceived weakness that was preyed upon by someone who should have known better than to meddle in other people’s lives.

  And tonight, I plan on finding out exactly why that happened.

  Sam

  My body is on fire. Ever since he picked me up, I’ve felt off balance. And now he’s being all thoughtful and even remembered that I want to travel around Africa. I mean, I haven’t seen him for ten years since we broke up, and it wasn’t exactly a nice break up either. It was a clean break, with no warning, and I had really shit timing too. To be honest, I’m wondering why he even wants anything to do with me. Does time heal all wounds?

  His touch on my skin simply stoked the fire that has grown from a deep buried ember. I still know that there are huge fundamental differences between Sean and I. He is a dominant, he likes to control and manipulate women. I’m a woman that does not want to be controlled. See, insurmountable differences that I’m unsure a simple dinner can erase. But then
there is the other part of me that relishes in his dominance. The way he takes control of a situation, like paying Ryan’s rent and making sure that he’s safe despite vowing to never bail out his brother again. Or turning up on my doorstep and telling me that I deserve a man who showers me with compliments and acts like a man who deserves to be with me.

  Major swoon factor there.

  Now we’re walking hand in hand (again) into one of the city’s top restaurants. So not where I thought I’d be two days ago.

  The maître d’ shows us to a corner table near the back and Sean pulls out a chair facing away from the door. It goes against all my trained instincts, but I push them aside and sit down, unable to hold back the shiver that wracks my body when his hands graze my side, stopping just below my breasts.

  Once Sean takes his seat opposite, the maître d’ lights a single red candle sitting in the middle of the table. “Your waiter for the evening will see you shortly. Have a great night.”

  “Thank you,” Sean says, not taking his eyes off me. His presence still consumes me. He may be sitting a few feet away from me, but I can still feel his touch like an invisible brand that warms my skin and seeps through me. It’s confusing. My brain, the sane part of it anyway, knows that this is a dinner between two old friends. As much as Helen tells me otherwise, surely that is all it can be. It doesn’t matter the effect Sean has on me or my body, or the natural way he can bring out my passive side with a single smoldering stare. It definitely has nothing to do with the fact I’d rather be somewhere less public and more naked with him. No, that has nothing to do with it.

  To distract my mind from these befuddling thoughts, I scan my surroundings, falling back on my habit of always being on the job.