by Tess Summers
Harper wrapped both hands around his biceps as they made their way toward the door, her head periodically resting on his shoulder. She missed the glare from the hostess. You never even had a chance, sweetheart.
She continued holding onto him while they waited for the valet to bring her car around, and Ben managed to slip his arm around her while they chatted about how perfect San Diego was in the summer. Her car rolled up to the front; it really was beautiful under the awning lights. He opened her door and got her situated, tipped the valet, then slid behind the wheel of her beautiful Corvette. Shifting into drive, he couldn’t help but smile at the sound of the engine, then noticed the sound of her carburetor.
“You need to bring Cary Grant into my shop this week,” he told her as they drove along the winding road. “The one on Miramar Place specializes in vintage cars. I’ll take good care of him personally, and I promise to give you a good price.”
“Your boss probably wouldn’t like that. They see me coming and immediately start rubbing their hands together in glee.”
He let out a small laugh and entwined her fingers in his. “Well, good thing I own the place, then.”
She tilted her head. “Oh. I didn’t realize.”
“I get that a lot,” he teased.
She looked embarrassed, and he thought she was changing the subject when she said, “So where should we get cheeseburgers?”
“Boomerang’s is close by.”
Her eyes got big and her lips formed an ‘O.’ Apparently gourmet hamburgers were a good choice, and he smiled with satisfaction at her response to his suggestion.
Ben felt her staring at him, and glanced over at her. “What?”
The blue-eyed, black-haired beauty in the passenger seat simply smiled. “Nothing. I’m having a fun night. Not at all what I was expecting when I left the house, to be honest.”
That made two of them.
Out of the blue, she started to giggle. “Don’t you think it’s funny that Sloane Holden is marrying Hannah Caulfield? Do you think that’s an omen? I mean, I guess it’s good that it’s not the other way around. What if she wanted to hyphenate her name? Could you imagine? ‘Hi, my name is Hannah Holden-Caulfield.’”
And that was when he knew she was the one.
Chapter Five
Harper
Ben kept taking his eyes off the road and looking over at her in the passenger seat, almost curiously. Like he either found her fascinating or a complete weirdo.
Feeling self-conscious and a little tipsy, she assumed the latter and felt the need to explain herself.
“You know, The Catcher in the Rye? The main character’s name is Holden Caulfield.”
“I know,” he answered immediately. “I just haven’t met anyone else who got the connection.”
His revelation made her smile and feel smart, while simultaneously making her look at him in a whole different light. She’d already found him sexy and masculine and protective—a total alpha caveman—but now she had to add educated to the list. Not at all what she’d thought when she first met him, with those tattooed arms and that hulking, mammoth frame. Another pleasant surprise to add to the evening’s list.
He pulled the car into the parking lot of Boomerang’s and turned to her as he shut the engine off. “Ready?”
Instead of answering, she launched herself into his lap and captured his mouth with hers. He was obviously taken by surprise, and he held his body and lips rigid while she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her boobs against his chest. Then his arms came around her back and she felt his body loosen as he began to return the kiss. Soon, one of his hands was digging into her hair while the other tightened his grip around her middle.
Harper felt something impressive against her ass, and she shamelessly adjusted her position to hike her skirt higher and straddle him, rocking her now-wet panties against the bulge in his slacks.
Instead of behaving like thirty-something-year-old professionals, they were like two horny teenagers—in her Corvette convertible with the top down, while the smell of hamburgers filled the air under the bright lights in the middle of Boomerang’s parking lot. On a busy Friday night.
Headlights shining on them and young male voices shouting, “Get a room!” brought them back to reality, and Ben broke the kiss with a chuckle.
“Do you want to go back to my place?” she panted, her lips against his neck as she continued rocking her needy clit against his hard-on.
Ben’s hands slid to her hips and held her still, not allowing her to grind against him any further, much to her dismay.
“We need to stop. You’re drunk. Let’s go inside and get you a cheeseburger.”
Now she felt embarrassed, like the attraction was one-sided. Although the tent in his pants seemed to dispute that.
“Oh. Yeah. Good idea,” she replied, ice dripping from her words as she slid off his lap.
He grabbed a fistful of her hair, rendering her still, and pulled her mouth back to his for a spine-tingling kiss. When he broke the kiss, he brushed her hair behind her ear then let his fingertips travel along her jaw.
“After you’ve gotten some food in your system to soak up those martinis, if you still want to go back to your place, I’ll be happy to take you home and fuck you senseless. But I want you sober when I do fuck you. I want you to remember every second.” He kissed her mouth, whispering in between kisses, “Every touch. Taste. Breath.” He nipped her lips and added, “Bite,” then she felt him tug on her hips so her clit was getting the friction it so desperately wanted.
That was all the encouragement she needed to go inside and eat something.
****
Ben
She felt exactly like he’d imagined all night: soft, sensual, perfect.
And she tasted like gin.
His cock was going to hate him.
She began to grind against him, and he groaned internally. Damn, she was making it difficult to do the right thing.
He pulled apart from her lips and rested his forehead against hers. “Mmm, baby girl, you are sexy as fuck, but we need to stop. You’re drunk. Let’s go inside and get you a cheeseburger.”
She hiccupped and gave him an icy stare, and he could tell she thought he was rejecting her, which couldn’t have been further from the truth. He just wanted her sober when he fucked her.
“Oh. Yeah. Good idea.”
She started to move but he grabbed a fistful of her hair and kissed her, then saw the look of lust in her eyes that matched his own.
He growled against her lips. “When I do fuck you, I want you to remember every second.” He whispered in between kisses, “Every touch. Taste. Breath.” He nipped her lips and added, “Bite,” then pulled on her hips so he was pushing into her heat. “Let’s go inside and eat so I can take you home—sober.”
Harper whimpered her agreement with her eyes half-open.
Ben hoped she still felt that way when the alcohol had left her system. He guessed he’d find out soon enough.
****
They sat in an out-of-the-way table in the restaurant, on opposite sides of a corner on the laminate top, and she spent the evening subtly touching him every chance she got. To an outsider, it might have appeared innocuous, but after their exchange in the parking lot, he knew it was anything but. Her soft hands on his forearm every time she threw her head back and laughed, her peek-a-boo cleavage beckoning him when she leaned forward… his cock was hard throughout their meal.
Then there was the matter of how fucking perfect she was. Not only was she hot as hell, but god damn, she was brilliant and witty, and the more sober she got, the sexier she was. He liked her when she was tipsy and her inhibitions were down, but he loved when she was ready to go toe-to-toe with him. She was fierce and beautiful, and he was fairly certain he was in love with her before they even left the burger joint.
Chapter Six
Ben
They walked out to her Corvette, hand-in-hand and laughing. Her smile was so beauti
ful, he couldn’t help but wrap his arm around her waist and pull her into him when they reached the driver’s door. Harper pliantly leaned against his body and turned her face up to his, as if offering herself to be kissed. He happily obliged and softly captured her mouth with his, tugging her bottom lip between his teeth as he wove his fingers in her hair. He was fishing for another invitation back to her place without having to actually ask.
Ben pulled away and jingled the car keys at her. She took them from him, and he opened up the door for her to slide into the driver’s seat with a smile. He got in on the passenger side, but instead of fastening his seatbelt, he moved her long hair from her shoulder and began kissing her neck. He was instantly rewarded with the sight of her stiff nipples jutting out from under her silk blouse.
Harper put both hands around his face and drew his mouth to hers; once again their tongues began to tangle. She wrapped her arms around his neck and inhaled sharply as he slanted his mouth and deepened the kiss. He could smell how aroused she was, and he was ready to fuck her in the middle of the parking lot, so when she whispered against his mouth, “We should go,” he readily agreed.
Had the top been up, he would have finger-fucked her the whole drive, but since it wasn’t, he opted to casually caress the inside of her lower thigh, right above her knee.
She glanced at him occasionally with a soft smile, but for the most part, concentrated on the road, so he took that as a sign not to bother her—too much.
When she turned onto the winding country club drive, Ben tried to mask his disappointment. Apparently she wasn’t ready to take it to the next level, and while he respected that, he didn’t necessarily like it. His dick reluctantly accepted it, too.
Relief flowed through him that he hadn’t taken her home earlier and fucked her. It would have really sucked to wake up in the morning and find her full of regret. He wanted to see her again—if that meant going home alone tonight, so be it.
She reached over and squeezed the inside of his upper thigh, grazing his cock as she made the slow trek to the clubhouse. Too cruel.
He directed her to the thinned-out parking lot where his bike was parked and moved her hand away from his dick, pulling it to his lips and kissing her fingers.
“I’ve had such a great time with you tonight, little Scout. When can I see you again?”
That brought a look of confusion to her face, followed by a pout as she snatched her hand from his grip.
“You’re not coming home with me?”
He hesitated—now he was confused.
“I assumed since we came back here instead of your house…”
With a seductive grin, she undid her seatbelt, leaned over, and kissed his jawline while her fingertips brushed his short hair above his ears.
“My house is a lot farther away than Boomerang’s,” she murmured before nibbling on his earlobe. “I thought it would be easier to get your bike tonight than have to drive all the way back here for it tomorrow.” She squeezed his bulge while breathing in his ear, “I definitely want you to come home with me tonight.”
Cupping her cheek, he knew he looked smug as he stared into her royal blue eyes. “I definitely want to come home with you.” He leaned over and nipped her lips with his teeth while slipping a hand under her yellow skirt and moving her panties to the side. She was drenched. As he moved his middle finger in circles over her clit, he growled against her mouth, “And I definitely am going to make you come. More times than you can count.”
Her quick intake of breath and the subtle spreading of her thighs was all the response he needed.
He plunged two fingers into her tight cunt, and she let out a low moan with her eyes closed as he slowly finger-fucked her until the sound of her orgasm filled the night air. Taking his time pulling out of her, he waited until she opened her eyes before sucking on his fingers.
“Mmm, you taste sweet. But I need more, baby. Should we go?”
She nodded wordlessly, and he opened the passenger door.
Ben was going home with Harper Finch tonight. And he was going to fuck her until the only name she remembered was his.
****
Harper
She’d had her share of one-night stands. Something she wasn’t exactly proud of, though she wasn’t ashamed of it either. But as she drove through the streets of San Diego with a motorcycle following her home, something told her this was going to be so much more than a one-night stand.
There was something about him; she couldn’t quite explain it yet, but being with him she felt—loved. Whether that was his intention or even his true feelings remained to be seen. In the meantime, though, she was simply going to enjoy being with him because damn, did he know how to kiss. Not to mention he was freaking gorgeous. She’d thought she was going to have to cut a bitch tonight at the restaurant. Their waitress couldn’t have been more obvious about wanting him, yet he only had eyes for Harper. He had barely glanced at the skanky girl practically rubbing her tits on him when she refilled his water.
He probably got that a lot.
But he didn’t give off the player vibe. She’d dated a lot of those over the years, and her gut always let her know, usually by the second date with a man. The way he’d look around at other women, as if checking to see if there was someone better. Flirting with the waitress, or the hostess, or one—or all—of her friends. Never being fully present with her, in case he missed someone else he might be interested in later.
Not Ben. He was completely—one hundred percent—focused on Harper. She’d never felt more adored in her life. And by a Greek god, no less.
Because he was a fucking Adonis. Hot with a capital H, and he had the sexy bad-boy vibe going. The three-quarter sleeve tattoos on both muscular arms peeking out from the rolled up sleeves of his navy-and-black striped button-down shirt, and the expensive silver watch on his wrist, made for delicious arm-porn. The twinkle in his hazel eyes cancelled out the don’t-give-a-fuck attitude; his brown hair was soft and silky on top, and surprisingly, his beard was, too.
With his swagger, tattoos, full beard, and six-foot athletic frame—at first glance, he was bad boy personified. Yet he had been a complete gentleman with her. Well, sort of. He’d treated her with respect and deference until it became obvious she wanted to be manhandled. Then it seemed he was more than happy to oblige.
Dirty talk in that deep voice? Yes, please. The sound of his voice alone made her wet.
And when he straddled his bike with a quiet confidence… good grief. It was all she could to stay in the car and not hop on and press her chest against his back.
Now he was following her home with the promise to make her come—multiple times. Funny thing was, she was eager to return the favor.
Chapter Seven
Ben
They turned into an upscale beach neighborhood, near where his former roommate Luke and his wife, Cassie, lived. He pulled into the driveway leading to a California-style stucco house with a mission tile roof. Harper opened one of the doors of her three-car garage and parked Cary Grant next to a silver Volvo XC90.
The third-stall garage door slowly opened to reveal an empty stall. He assumed she wanted him to park his Harley there and pulled in. Looking around, he noticed an organized workbench with tools hanging tidily on a pegboard behind it, and a wall of cabinets lining the front of the garage. Everything was neat and orderly, making him want her even more. There was nothing he liked better than a well-ordered garage.
He dismounted his bike and met her at the door leading to her house. Harper pushed two buttons on the wall, and the doors started to come down as she gestured him inside with a sudden, shy smile. What was that about?
Ben followed her into a modern kitchen with black and tan cabinets, recessed lighting, and a large bronze exhaust fan over the kitchen island. Upon closer inspection, her stovetop was part of the island—he’d never seen that before. It was kind of cool.
“Come on in,” she said as she walked through the kitchen into the adjoining fa
mily room, where floor-to-ceiling windows faced her fenced backyard. He heard a high-pitched whining sound. Harper approached a black dog crate next to the patio door, bent down to unlatch the door, and was attacked by a wiggly blond cocker spaniel puppy who, in between high-pitched excited barks, wouldn’t stop jumping up and kissing her happily.
He understood that feeling completely.
“Hi, Honey,” she cooed, holding up the squirming pup in her arms to stop it from licking her anymore. “I missed you too, sweetie. Come on, let’s go outside.”
Ben followed her outside and watched as the puppy dashed in circles on the grass bordered by a lighted brick walkway and spotlighted palm trees.
“Goddamn, she’s got a lot of energy,” he remarked.
“She didn’t get her walk tonight. I’m glad she’s burning this off.”
Just watching the little cocker spaniel tear around the yard exhausted him, and she hadn’t slowed down to do her business yet. Harper tugged on his sleeve.
“Come on, let’s go inside. She needs to go potty, and she tends to be shy about doing it front of an audience. She was a rescue, so who knows what happened to her to cause that.”
Back inside, he leaned over and took off his black motorcycle boots, then followed her over to the carpeted area.
“Nice place,” he murmured as he removed his jacket and set it on the brown leather furniture. He noticed the unique kidney-shaped mahogany coffee table, and realized there was a matching bar in the corner of the room when she started walking toward it.
“Thank you. Can I get you something to drink?” she asked nervously from behind the bar.
“I’ll have what you’re having,” Ben answered, not taking his eyes off her as he sat down on one of the metal barstools.
He noticed her hands trembling as she put ice cubes into rocks glasses using tongs. Harper being shy was adorable, but it wasn’t going to fly right now. He guessed she’d had too much time to think while she was alone on the drive home.