“Yeah.” I sit up, checking to make sure everything still works. Harper won’t enjoy me quite so much if I’m bruised. She likes looking at me.
Romeo slaps me on the back and reaches down a hand. “Who is she?”
I let him pull me up. “None of your business.”
Not that she should be my business, either, but we’ve already established that I don’t always do the right thing. Which has to be why I race to Harper’s place. Lucky I don’t get picked up for breaking every traffic law. She’s got a new rental in one of those swank, super-modern high-rise buildings, the kind of place where the windows don’t open because the people inside are living in an air-conditioned bubble. Not sure I see the appeal myself, but it’s not my call.
I’m standing in front of Harper’s door before I realize I probably should have called first. Or texted. Fucking sent a carrier pigeon with roses. Doesn’t matter now because I’m here.
I knock. Then fucking knock again. And again. I’m about ready to text Romeo to get his ass over here and help me bust the thing down when she finally yanks the door open.
“Vik?” She sounds part horrified, part dazed.
What the fuck?
“You texted me.”
She’s wearing a pair of silky pajamas covered with a ridiculous quantity of pink and orange butterflies. The top is one of those camisoles that button up the front and the fabric’s sheer enough that I can see the outline of her bra and the soft curve of her belly. Best wrapping paper ever for my Christmas present.
She crosses her arms over her chest. “An hour and a half ago.”
“Didn’t see an expiration date on your text, so unless you want to fuck in your hallway, let’s go inside.”
Her mouth falls open and I smell champagne and raspberries. “Excuse me?”
“I’m just keeping my word.” Christ, I’m practically a Boy Scout. “I offered to be your booty call. You called, so here I am.”
While she splutters, I lean down and kiss her. Our kiss is way too quick but gives me enough time to discover that she tastes like champagne, raspberries and Harper. Not sure what that is other than pure fucking heaven. Letting go requires more self-control than I’d like to admit, but I have plans and it’s time to put them into action. Step one? I shrug off my club vest and then whip my T-shirt over my head. I do my best work naked, and something tells me that stripping down in a public place is guaranteed to get a response out of Harper.
Three, two, one...
Sure enough, she goes ballistic.
“You can’t do that here!” She grabs whatever she can, yanking at me. Not sure what her objective is, but since it involves her hands touching me in about a hundred different, bare places, I approve. Fuck, she’s fun. I start working on my belt.
“Inside,” she hisses, hooking her fingers in my belt. Since my dick’s huge and my pants hang low, she skims my goodies and jolts backward. I’m commando beneath the denim. While I try not to spontaneously combust, she reaches around me to grab my shirt and vest from the floor outside her door. Guess I’m gonna be her not-so-little dirty secret.
In it is.
“You,” she snaps as soon as I’m safely out of the hallway and the door’s closed. “You’re impossible.”
She slaps my chest with her hand, then stares down at her fingers lying right there over my heart. She looks surprised. Not sure if it’s my ink or my muscles that’s got her going. I’d play show-and-tell with her, but I don’t need her distracted right now. Plus, I’m semihard already, so I have better plans for our time together.
I tug her into my arms and spin her around until her back’s against the wall. “I’m fucking easy for you.”
Probably should have brought wine or flowers or at least asked for a tour of her new place, but we’ve both waited long enough. Then I’m lifting her up, spreading her legs around my hips and pinning her against the wall. Only thing between my dick and her pussy are my jeans and her shorts, and that’s not gonna keep me out of heaven.
She makes the cutest little growling sound in her throat, so I’m half expecting her to go for my balls with her right knee when she surprises me by going to work on my belt buckle. The leather slaps against my abs as she pulls it free so fast I almost get rug burn.
“Don’t mark the merchandise.” I nip her ear. “You spank my dick with that shit, and I’ll get even.”
She makes a scoffing sound, even as I wrap the belt around her wrists—loosely because I’m not that much of a jerk—and pull her hands above her head. I give her a moment to realize her predicament, and then I lean down and kiss her.
She tastes even better than I remember, and that’s before she shoves her tongue deep into my mouth. Not sure she knows I’m the one who’s in charge here, and somehow that just sets me on fire more. Fucking need this woman bad because until I’m inside her, filling up that place she’s got for me between her legs, I’m nowhere.
So I kiss her back, going harder, deeper, until we’re pushing and fighting each other with our mouths because neither of us will back down. Our mouths clash, all teeth and tongues, and it’s wet and slippery, and absolutely fucking perfect. We don’t kiss pretty but somehow we fit together. We’re burning together, and I don’t need words to know that. When I pull back, I’m panting, and so is she. We’re belting out the same chorus of the same song, and it’s all halle-fucking-lujah. I’m not alone in what I’m feeling here.
“Tell me yes,” I say. “Also? You got some fucking specific requests, you make them now.”
“Or what?” Her words come out in a pant, and her
