One Night More (3 page)

They walked without saying a word through the lobby to the elevators. And just as silently waited for an available car. Harper moved toward the first set of doors to glide open, but when he noticed someone was already inside, he held her back. “Go ahead,” Harper said with a nervous laugh as she urged the woman to go on without them. She must have been on her way up from the underground parking garage. Cutting an annoyed look Harper’s way, she jammed her finger onto the control panel and the door glided shut.

As they waited for another car to get to the lobby floor, his warm breath caressed her ear. “Sorry, but I want you all to myself.”

Chapter Three

Was she crazy to trust a perfect stranger? A second set of doors slid quietly open to reveal an empty car and he pulled Harper inside. She pressed the number four on the panel and when the doors shut, he brought their clasped hands to his mouth and kissed each one of her knuckles.

“If I asked, would you tell me your name?” Harper whispered as he abandoned her hand for that sweet spot on her neck that made her break out into delicious chills.

He didn’t pull away, but kept his mouth on her, the words vibrating against her skin when he said, “Would it matter? Would you trust me more? Less? If you knew my name, would it change what’s happening right now?”

“No,” she breathed, knowing that it wouldn’t change a thing. He was still her knight, the guy who’d taken down the slimeball who’d tried to drug her. Knowing his name wouldn’t change anything they’d talked about in the bar, the stories they’d shared about their lives and childhoods. What did his name matter? Harper already knew everything she needed to know about him.

He brought his face up to hers, his eyes boring through her as if searching for some hidden truth in her expression. And then his mouth descended in a ravenous kiss, urgent as he backed her against the wall, lifting her up until Harper had no choice but to wrap her legs around his waist. He reached under the hem of her T-shirt, his touch like a brand as he grazed his fingers against her bare skin. Harper gripped his shoulders, arching into him, as he twined his tongue with hers in a sensual dance that left her breathless and aching for more.

Too soon, the elevator doors opened to the fourth floor. He set her down on her feet and Harper led the way as she dug her keys out of her purse. His footsteps were a steady cadence beside hers, a dull thud on the industrial carpeting, as she walked to the end of the hall and her studio apartment. When she got to the door, she fumbled with the key, suddenly nervous as she realized she’d come to the point of no return. Once on the other side of that door, she was one hundred percent committed to whatever was going to happen. And of course, this was the perfect time to realize that she couldn’t remember if she was wearing a nice bra/under wear combo.
Crap
.

As though sensing each and every one of her fluttering nerves, he reached out and eased her key from her grasp. Harper turned, her back plastered to the door, breath speeding in her chest. His arms were braced on either side of her, caging her in, and Harper’s eyes locked on the navy-blue ones gazing back at her with that same openness and intensity that made her knees go weak. “Are you sure you want this?” he asked, low. “I won’t go in unless you’re positive this is okay.”

Harper reached out and laid the flat of her palm against the hard planes of his chest. His warmth penetrated the fabric, heart beating in a steady rhythm. She closed her eyes, reveling in that reassuring thrum for a moment. “I want this,” she murmured without opening her eyes. “I’m sure.”

At those words, he slid the key into the lock and turned it. The door eased open and Harper took his hand as she backed inside, the layout of the tiny six-hundred-square-foot apartment leaving her nowhere to go but toward the bed. Through a narrow hallway, she backed her way past the cramped closet and bathroom and into the kitchen. He set her keys down on the counter and took her other hand in his. The apartment was dark, the only illumination coming from the streetlights outside. Harper wanted it this way, not because she was embarrassed or worried, but because she wanted her senses to be heightened like they were in the cab. Only the sound of his breath, the sensation of his touch.

When the backs of her legs hit the bed, she stopped and quickly deposited her purse and cell phone on the bedside table. The streetlight cast shadows on the lines of his jaw and nose, morphing his features into sharper angles, adding to her superhero fantasy. She disengaged her hand from his grasp and reached up to thread her fingers through the silky-soft strands of his hair. He lowered his mouth to hers in a gentle kiss, the same teasing flutter that had driven her mad when he’d kissed her in the taxi. Her hands moved to his shirt, and one by one she released each button, spreading the halves of his shirt apart. In the low light and play of shadow, every defined ridge of his chest and torso stood out. She passed her palms up from his washboard abs up and over his pecs and flat nipples, across his collarbone to his shoulders, where she eased his shirt the rest of the way off. It hit the floor in a whisper of fabric and his breath seemed to hitch as she tucked her fingers inside his waistband.

He took her wrists in an iron grip, stopping her before she could unbutton his pants. Harper’s heart beat wildly as he held her, the thought of giving him total control causing her body to clench with lust. She stood perfectly still, no longer on the offensive, waiting for him to act. After several moments, he raised her arms above her head and released her wrists. Harper didn’t dare move as his fingers traced down her sides, eliciting chills and a flush of heat all at once. The pads of his rough fingers skimmed her skin as he grasped the hem of her T-shirt and pulled it up her body and off. Still, she didn’t put her arms down. Harper refused to make a move until bidden. He rested his palms flat against hers and stepped close until his bare chest touched hers. Slowly, he caressed down her arms, his fingers brushing the outsides of her breasts downward to her torso and then around to her back. Then, he traced his way up her spine and she couldn’t help but arch into him as he unclasped her bra.

“Put your arms down,” he commanded in a husky growl.

Harper obeyed, and he pulled the straps over her shoulders, discarding the garment somewhere behind him. Her breasts became heavy, her nipples tightening, exposed to the air. Eyes closed, she waited for him to kiss her, touch her, anything to end the desperate need throbbing low in her belly. Breath stalled, anticipation unfurled within her like a length of ribbon. He cupped her breasts, his thumbs flicking across her nipples, and Harper let out a whimper, a surge of sensation clenching between her thighs.

When his hands left her body, she wanted to guide him back. Or better yet, bring his mouth to where his thumbs had just been. But she resisted the urge to take control of the situation, giving herself over to him completely. He lowered his hands to her hips and spun her around until her back was flush with his chest. Harper let her head fall back against his shoulder, and he cupped her breasts again, this time pinching her nipples with enough pressure to cause a sudden rush of wetness between her legs. She’d never been so ready, so damned wound up. If he didn’t take her soon, she’d come before they even got started.

As he continued to tease her nipples with maddening precision, he lowered his mouth to her throat, kissing, biting, licking. She tilted her head up and his mouth seized hers, desperate, hungry, his tongue thrusting into her mouth, his lips hard and demanding. His hands traveled from her breasts down her belly to her jeans. He popped the button and slid the zipper down, pushing her jeans and underwear over her hips to the floor, where Harper kicked them free of her ankles in a rush. Then he brought his mouth to her ear and whispered, “Get on the bed.”

Harper hesitated. Did he want her to turn around? Lie flat on her stomach? Uncertainty filled her with anxiety that she might do the wrong thing and ruin the moment. Again he took control, easing her forward until she was on all fours, arms stretched out on the bed, her ass jutting up in the air. Never had she allowed herself to be so vulnerable, yet with this stranger, she could let go in a way she’d been too guarded to do with anyone else. Her body stilled, heart hammering in her rib cage as if it were looking for a way out. She heard him shift behind her and then the silky strands of his hair brushed her thighs as he positioned himself beneath her. Harper took a deep breath and held it, her heart hammering with anticipation. His tongue flicked out at her clit and Harper let out a low, drawn-out moan.

Like his kisses, each pass of his tongue was a tease, the contact deliberate and too soft for her to find release. She pushed against him, desperate for him to increase the pressure, but he gripped her hips to keep her still and continued his unhurried assault, wringing desperate moans and near sobs from her throat with each pass of his tongue. A rasp of stubble brushed her inner thigh.
Oh, God
. That coarse contact with her flesh made her crazy. Harper buried her face in the coverlet of her bed, winding the fabric in her fists as he began to alternate between tentative licks and deep, hungry sucks that brought her to the edge.

“I’m so close,” she gasped, not caring if she sounded desperate. She was. “Don’t stop.”

But at her words, he stilled and Harper groaned in frustration. This was his show, not hers. He stood, and the rustle of fabric as he shucked his jeans caused her to shiver with delicious anticipation. Harper didn’t move, didn’t turn around to see what he was doing. Completely at his mercy, she waited, her body humming with pent-up energy that ached for release. Large hands gripped her thighs, sliding up and over her ass, his thumbs pressing into her spine as he caressed his way up her back. He leaned over her and she stiffened as the hard, velvet smooth length of his erection brushed against her. “I don’t want you to come until I’m inside of you.” He paused before asking, his tone almost embarrassed, “Do you have condoms?” The tense laughter that followed made Harper smile.

“You didn’t leave the house prepared tonight?” she teased.

His body stiffened as individual muscles rippled against Harper’s sensitive skin. When his erection brushed her ass once more, Harper rocked into him. He groaned, and pulled back. “I might be a superhero for the night, but apparently I’m no Boy Scout.”

“Top drawer, bedside table,” Harper said on a breath, thankful she’d kept the condoms left over from her previous relationship.

His sigh of relief brushed the back of her neck. “Thank God,” he said, and she laughed.

It should have been awkward, Harper sprawled out on all fours, waiting as he retrieved the condom and ripped the package open. But it wasn’t. She thought back to all of the clumsy sexual encounters she’d had—truth be told, they’d all been a mess in one way or another—and weighed them all against this one moment that was more perfect than all of her previous ones combined.

When his strong fingers gripped her hips, Harper started, and his deep, rumbling laugh made her smile. He eased her over until she lay on her back. With the streetlight casting its glow on his body, he looked all the more commanding—too perfect to be real. She drank him in, committing every shadowed detail of his body to memory. A grin of pure male satisfaction curved his lips as her gaze roamed over him, and when it lingered on the thick, hard length of his erection, his fists clenched at his sides as if it took a conscious effort not to pounce on her.

Harper kept her eyes glued to him as she eased her way up higher on the bed until her head rested on the pillows. She let her knees fall open and his gaze followed the path of her legs, settling on the spot where his mouth had been, sending a rush of excitement through Harper’s body. He crawled up the bed, reminding her once again of an animal on the prowl, and settled himself between her legs. A stab of apprehension twisted her stomach. His size was enough to make a girl’s breath hitch.

He lowered himself on top of her, his arms bracing him up. Harper arched up to meet him, tasting herself on his lips as he opened his mouth to her. Seized by lust, she lapped at him, twisting her tongue against his, her teeth scraping against his bottom lip as she took it into her mouth and sucked. He trembled above her as though fighting for control and eased himself slowly inside of her, not completely, just enough to get her body used to his size, and then just as slowly pulling out. For long, agonizing minutes he taunted her this way, making sure her body was ready for him. She trembled with the need to have him fully inside of her and thrust her hips up to meet his, biting the inside of her cheek as a slight sting of pain shot through her.

He drew his breath in a long hiss, and stilled, waiting a moment for them both to adjust. But then he began to rock slowly and the discomfort melted away into a warm, throbbing sensation as her inner walls clenched around him. He kissed her again, his control finally slipping as he slanted his mouth furiously across hers. Harper gasped against his mouth as he pulled almost completely out of her and then drove hard and deep, his shaft grinding against her clit in a way that stole her breath—and her ability to form a coherent thought. Swept up in passion, she arched into every frantic thrust, his pace increasing with his labored breath. Harper dug her nails into his shoulders, clinging to his body like a lifeline, her teeth gnashed together as her body coiled tight, constricting until she felt as tiny and inconsequential as a speck of dust floating in a vast universe. Then, bliss crested over her, an explosion that broke her apart, sending wave after wave of sensation coursing through her body, the orgasm so intense that she sobbed her pleasure in tight little moans until her throat felt raw and her limbs limp and heavy. His body stiffened as hers yielded, and he thrust deep inside of her, his own voice strained and primal as he came.

For a moment they lay still, the only sound that of their racing breaths. Harper enjoyed the weight of his body, the way his arms encircled her as he planted featherlight kisses on her brow, cheeks, and lips. She twined her fingers through his hair, slick with sweat, down the back of his neck and he shuddered. She suppressed the laughter that threatened, wondering at his sensitivity. Where else was he ticklish? Did he have to work tomorrow? What was his favorite breakfast food? TV show? Was he a reader or did he always wait for the movie? Questions assaulted Harper’s mind, details that she wanted to know, little inconsequential facts she was dying to learn about him. Her chest swelled with emotion as he held her. She marveled at the intimacy she’d shared with him, a total stranger. And yet, in this moment, she felt as though she’d known him all her life.