“My turn to ask a question.” She stands at the top of the stairs looking down at him, surrounded by a mist of light.
He holds his breath again and the smile falls off his face.
“Why do you wear a gun, Harley?”
He doesn’t like the way she pronounces his name, but that’s an easy one. “Protection.” He doesn’t elaborate and she doesn’t ask for him to.
Aliah tries to take a deep breath, but the adrenaline has her limbs shaking and she can’t seem to slow her nerves.
Harley scales the stairs and stops at the top. He flicks the light out, but not before seeing her standing there, looking all small and helpless. “We don’t want anyone to know you’re home,” he explains, while the image of her trembling frame haunts his present.
He opens his arms to her. “Come here.”
She recklessly obeys and crashes into his arms. Even though he still has to be well over the legal limit for alcohol consumption, with her in his arms, he feels strong and protective. When he cups her cheek, he feels a tear trickle down her face. She lets it fall.
Harley’s finger traces its path and lands under her chin. He tilts her head up with a finger and stings her with his midnight gaze. “I will never let anyone hurt you.”
She holds his stare and it is as if they are sealing a promise. “Never?”
He steals a chaste kiss, and it happens so fast that she can’t even stop him. She presses her lips together and narrows her eyes.
“What are doing?” She sounds so exasperated.
“I kissed you,” he states, as if he’s proud of his misdoing.
“I told you not to,” she whispers, as if someone might be listening in on them.
Harley’s smile slants across his face. “I never was very good at listening to reason.”
Without warning, Aliah’s mouth crashes into his. Harley instantly lifts her into his arms. She wraps her legs around his torso, and he doesn’t stop kissing her as he kicks off his shoes and maneuvers his way blindly to the kitchen table.
He can sense that she’s wondering what the hell he’s doing as he unfastens his belt. Then it seems to dawn on her when his pants slide down to his ankles. He puts her down to remove her clothes and he doesn’t stop until she’s completely naked. Then he makes a grab for his shirt and watches the way her eyes widen in the shadows when she gets a good look at his tattooed abs.
She pounces on him, feverishly kissing every rigid muscle, as he tugs off his tie and tosses it aside. He takes a seat on the chair, with his massive thighs exposed, and his overpriced slacks pooled at his ankles. Aliah climbs on top of him, knowing exactly what he wants. She reaches for his unyielding cock and lowers herself on top of him.
He groans with every roll of her hips and enjoys every inch of her pussy perfection as her breasts rub up against his chest. Her strangled moan has him harder than a surf board, and he has to grip onto the chair to hang on for the ride. He loves that she’s going slow, but he’s about near ready to drill a hole through her. He needs things to go fast.
Taking control, he clasps onto her wrists and locks them behind her back like he’s arresting her. Then he latches his mouth onto a straining pink nipple and sucks from it like he’s a starving infant. Aliah’s head rolls back and she cries out in pleasure, as he grips onto her hip with his free hand, demanding that she bounce faster and drop harder.
She squirms on top of him, until he’s the one thrusting upwards, lifting her feet from the floor. Aliah wraps her suspended legs around the back of the chair, and closes her pussy around him. That single act represents the sweetest of surrenders, leaving him in control everything. Needing more friction between them, he releases her wrists.
“Hang on,” he grunts, as he pumps into her repeatedly.
Knowing exactly what he means, she grips the chair behind him, until she’s white in the fists. It looks like she’s hanging onto the chair for dear life, as he thrusts into her again and again, their skin slapping in a magical medley of sounds. She’s bouncing up and down from the sheer force of his thrusts and it all feels celestial as he seems to leave his body in a moment of complete bliss.
“Holy shit!” Aliah screams out, as he drives into her harder. The chair breaks into pieces beneath them, as her pussy squeezes around his dick in the most amazing of finales. They’re both panting, with eyes closed, not quite realizing what has happened. Then Aliah releases her clenched fists, dropping the back of the chair onto the floor.
A masterful smile curls onto Harley’s lips, as he starts to chuckle, realizing it was the force of their joint orgasm that totalled the dining chair. Aliah joins him in a fit of laughter. With every giggle, her insides tighten around him and he winces from the sensitivity still affecting him.
After climbing off of him, Aliah points at the floor behind him. “Look what you did to my chair!”
He thinks to plead the fifth, but decides against it. “It was me.”
Her jaw drops, but her smile is still gorgeous. She loves his honesty. Now only if he could be more honest with her. She escapes to the washroom with her clothes, and he gives her a few minutes to wash herself, as he tries to put the hopeless chair back together.
Not going to happen.
After pulling on his underwear and an unbuttoned shirt, he peers out the front blinds. No one is visible, so he barges into the bathroom to see what is taking her. Though she can’t believe the intrusion, she doesn’t make him leave. Their smiles eventually soften, but when he leans down to kiss her, she doesn’t stop him. He reaches for the warm washcloth, snatches it from her hand and gently caresses between her thighs, as his lips descend on hers. His excitement bubbles back to the surface, as he strokes her tenderly and she accepts his tongue through parted lips.
Washing up only instigates their next engagement. He drops the cloth to the floor, his fingers continuing with the sensual assault on her clitoris. When Aliah’s legs get wobbly, he lifts her into his arms and carries her to the bedroom. His weight bears down on her as they crash onto the bed. He knows she wants him to conquer her body again, but she looks so scared. Scared for her life.
Scared for her heart?
It’s written all over her face in a painful mix of color, as Harley continues to kiss her. He can’t stop, afraid that she might take back the silent offering if he does. But eventually his lips slow, until time freezes between each emotional peck. The sound of his lips connecting with hers and the draw back to him every time he pries his lips away seems to trip her up.
Aliah starts to slide his shirt open, but he catches her hand.
“It’s been a long night.”
Her face looks so sad that he considers giving her a pity fuck. She’s using all her wiles to her advantage. He relies on sheer willpower to push through the temptation. It has been a long night, and he doesn’t want her turning to sex as her only comfort. He wants her to need him in other ways too.
What the fuck?
He did not just think that. Since when did he care about that kind of shit?
Aliah gulps and he thinks she’s going to demand they do it again. If she does, he will have to screw her to the headboard. But then she rolls over and curls up into a ball, without a mess of words. There wouldn’t be any more sex after that move.
Harley skims his fingers down the length of her leg and unlatches the surprisingly dainty shoes from her feet. He presses a kiss to each foot, just then realizing that she has been wearing them all along. When he drops the heels onto the floor beside the bed, they land with a thump, much like the steady beat of his heart.
He pulls the sheets out from under her, so he can wrap her up in the them. He doesn’t try to hide from her, as he stands next to the bed. He watches over her for a minute, but she doesn’t look up at him. She’s so delicate when she wants to be; a small, colorful flower in full bloom.
Harley leans over top of her and plants a kiss on her forehead. Then he climbs onto the bed and huddles against her back. The moment feels so intimate, th
e room so quiet. Everything about this moment feels just right. He hasn’t felt this way before. He’s putting Aliah’s needs before his own. He can hear what her body’s asking for.
Sex.
And he wants it too. But more importantly he can see what she needs even more.
Love.
Aliah is doing right by herself. She is a smart girl to protect her heart from the Big Bad Harley. He’ll surely huff and puff and blow her life in. But she has failed herself. She has let him in.
Why did she let me in?
Aliah reaches for his hand and wraps his arm all the way around her. He has a sudden urge to tell her the truth. Right all his wrongs. Lay it all out on the table.
“Aliah?” he whispers. He starts to think she’s fallen asleep already.
“Yeah?” Her voice is as soft as her curves.
“There’s something I have to tell you.” He sighs and he feels her cheek lift into a soft, contented smile.
Why is she smiling?
“Not tonight. Okay?” she insists softly.
He doesn’t answer, and neither of them speak again, as they fall asleep in each other’s arms.
Harley wakes and glances immediately at the alarm clock. It’s three in the morning, but Aliah is nowhere to be seen. He pads barefoot out of her bedroom and instantly finds her in the kitchen. She’s sitting in the dark chewing on her fingernails, the light of the moon illuminating her beautiful features through the kitchen window.
She glances over her shoulder. “I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”
“I can’t sleep,” he admits gruffly.
“Me either.”
He takes a few hesitant steps toward her and toys with a piece of her hair that is dangling in her eyes. She’s been crying, but he won’t bring attention to the unattractive smears across her cheeks. Instead, he takes her hand and leads her back to the bedroom.
He slides into the bed first and tucks a few of her decorative pillows against the headboard. He opens up the covers and drags her underneath them with him. He props himself against the headboard, and pulls Aliah toward him, until she’s flattened against his chest.
When she sighs softly, he knows he’s exactly what she needs. Whether she knows that herself yet or not is another thing.
Her eyes close, as he kisses her forehead, but there are no more tears. He isn’t sure he’d know what to do if there were. He strokes her hair and closes his own eyes, comforting himself with his continuous caress. He isn’t used to being this gentle. It is a different feeling, that is for sure. But it feels good.
He’d never tell her this, but he can see himself wanting to make her feel this good for many more nights to come.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Aliah awakes to an unfamiliar ringing sound and a sexy as sin man standing in the corner of her room with his back to her. She gawks at the winged bird spread across his expansive upper back. She’s never seen anything more sexy.
After ending his call, he picks up his pants off the floor and pulls them over each long leg. His agile fingers have his shirt done up in seconds flat. She fears if she doesn’t say something quick, he’ll be blasting out her door without saying goodbye.
“Harley?” She rolls up to a sitting position and rubs a tired eye.
“I have to go.” Harley doesn’t say another word as he pulls on his jacket.
Angered by his avoidance, she yanks off the covers and retrieves her silky robe from the floor. She heads to the kitchen before wrapping her naked self up. After getting her coffee going, she struts to the bathroom, wearing nothing but the crumpled silk from the previous night.
When she returns, she finds her bed not only empty, but made. She takes off sprinting to find out where the hell Harley thinks he’s going now. She isn’t done with him yet. He can’t just up and leave when he pleases. Not until she says so.
She stands in the door of the garage, with her arms folded across her chest, watching the way he paces the driveway. She wonders what has him so muddled. Then his eyes connect with hers. It’s broad daylight but still he looks dark and menacing. It’s then when she realizes she’s not wearing any panties. A scalding heat pools at the juncture between her thighs and her lips part for a breath.
“Why don’t you come back inside for a cup of coffee?” Her voice sounds soft, because she’s trying to act like it’s no big deal either way.
The way he stares at her, she knows he’s heard her. His glance continues to sear her as he considers what he’s going to do next. She’s not about to make that decision for him. In the blink of an eye, Aliah flips her attitude upside down.
“I’ll be inside, in case you decide not to be a prick.” She goes for the dramatic bitch voice, hoping to make a point. Then she turns away and slams the door between them.
She can’t believe he was just going to take off. Was she the only one who thought they’d shared a special moment last night? He was probably too drunk to notice.
Why do I even care?
When the door opens behind her, she starts up the steps. She was not expecting that! She hurries upstairs, but not nearly fast enough. Harley’s hand flattens against her ass, making a loud smacking noise.
“Harley!” she screeches, feeling the sting across her naked flesh. The tingles sprinkle across her senses, only amplifying the delightful ache she’s been suffering from since she’d opened her eyes.
“I’m sorry, but you can’t be flaunting that sexy thing around my face and not expect me to touch it.”
She finds it hard to argue with the man, when he makes such a good point. She continues to her kitchen and immediately pulls two mugs from an upper cabinet. She reaches for the carafe and pours them each a cup of coffee. The only reason she knows he’s still seated behind her now, is the scent that is undeniably Harley clouding her judgment.
Her eyes give a provocative look over her shoulder, but she’s not quite smiling.
“Which one of those is for the prick?” he asks, trying to get a rise out of her.
She smiles. He always manages to get her body curling, whether it’s her lips or her toes. She hands him a mug. But it’s not just any mug. She’s pulled out the special hot pink one with zebra stripes, just for him. She smiles, as she adds sugar to hers. He drinks his black.
Neither of them speak, but he’s looking down at her, waiting for her to give him the time of day. She can’t stop smirking, as her nose hovers over her cup, hiding her smiling lips behind her plain black mug.
“You’re seriously going to make me drink from this one?”
Aliah glances up into those beautiful eyes and grins. “If you’re thirsty, you’ll drink it.” She takes a sip from her simple black mug. “Mmm. This is so good.”
Harley reaches out to take her mug and she has to turn away to avoid him. “Why can’t I drink from yours?”
She walks around the table and takes a seat at the opposite end, while clinging to her coffee. “I’ve already had my lips all over it.” She sticks out her chin, to teach him a lesson. “That makes it mine.”
He sips the coffee from his girly mug, and takes a seat on the wobbly stool next to her. He sears her with a glance that has her desperate for air. The memory of what had happened on that chair the other night has them both fidgeting in their seats. He tears off his jacket, acknowledging the rising heat in the room, and it pulls at his shirt, exposing a set of washboard abs.
He clears his throat. “Following your theory then, wouldn’t that make you mine?” Another layer of clothes comes off, until he’s beautifully bare chested.
She’s sure the deer-in-headlights look wasn’t the most brilliant response. But he freaks her out and she doesn’t know how else to respond. She anxiously licks at her lips.
“You really shouldn’t do that around me.” The promise in his growl terrifies her even more.
What the hell is he up to this morning?
Not quite sure how to handle Harley at the moment, Aliah takes her leave to the washroom. She blames it on the coffe
e she’s only sipped on, but she knows he knows she’s only trying to hide from him. It is no wonder he’s started stripping. The temperature in that room seems to have spiked beyond one hundred degrees in a matter of seconds.
Aliah stares at herself in the mirror, trying to look for something, but not finding it. Not having anything else to do, she turns on the water and splashes her face. The coolness helps a little, but she still doesn’t know what to say to get Harley to stop with the sexy mushy shit.
Everything was going just fine until he’d said that!
She blows out a breath. She knows she can’t hide in the bathroom forever. In fact, it was only a few minutes earlier that she was practically begging him to come back inside. Maybe she could tempt him for another round in the bedroom before he takes off. That would be enough to take her mind off of other things.
With renewed confidence, Aliah opens the door. Harley’s not in the kitchen, and after peering in her bedroom, she realizes he’s not there either. She hasn’t heard the front door open or close, so she assumes he’s roaming her house.
As she rounds the corner, she catches him casually slipping into her spare bedroom. She peers in the door and decides to keep quiet and see how long it takes for him to realize that she’s there with him. He takes a good look at her desk, like he’s looking for something, then he flips through her mail with a fleeting glance. There’s nothing out of the ordinary he’s going to find there. Junk mail. Bills. More bills.
She finds it difficult to concentrate on what he’s doing, when he’s shirtless, with the sexiest of tattoos painted across his back. Then he seems to redirect his attention to the diploma framed on the wall.
Shit!
As he reads it over, she watches his mug drop to the ceramic floor. It crashes with a horrific clash of sounds, as chunks and shards scatter and black coffee splatters across the floor, staining her desk and wall.
“Looking for something?” Aliah stands in the doorway with her arms clutched across her chest, trying really hard not to overreact. She still appears on edge, as if he is nosing around where he doesn’t belong.
Twisted Desire (The Twisted Series) Page 11