The Fighter (The High Rise, Book 1) (18 page)

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Authors: Harper Bentley

Tags: #construction worker, #tattoos, #weight lifting, #alpha male, #hot guy

BOOK: The Fighter (The High Rise, Book 1)
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“We’re going
really fast.”

Well,
fuck.

I gaze back at
her resigning myself to the fact that I’ll not be getting any sex
tonight but that’s okay. If she needs more time, I’ll give her more
time.

“We’ll slow
down,” I concede.

“Really?” she
asks as if she thought I’d put up a fight. Christ. She must’ve
dated some real winners.

I nod.

“Thank you,”
she whispers as she moves toward me. Once there, she wraps her arms
around my waist resting her head against my chest.

I enfold her
in my arms and kiss the top of her head holding her for as long as
she needs me to.

She pulls away
and looks up at me. “Want another beer?”

I smile down
at her. “Yep.”

She picks up
our empties then goes to the kitchen coming back and handing me a
new one. “Have any good movies?”

“Depends on
what you mean by good. If you mean chick shit, then no.” I chuckle.
I next pick up the remote and turn on the TV. “I have Netflix if
you want to watch something.”

“Oh, good!”
she says and sits down on the couch. I pick up my jacket and shirt
hanging them on the coat rack then sit next to her and she
immediately pulls up a movie and turns to me all giddy. “This is
one of my favorites!”

For the next
hour and a half I watch a movie about a British woman who writes in
a diary about how fat she is. Then she breaks up with her
boyfriend, ends up being imprisoned in Thailand, of course being
treated pretty nicely which makes me roll my eyes, and by the end,
two men have fought over her and she ends up with the dude she
started out with.

The best part
is that I sit close to Laney, my arm around her as we watch, well,
she watches. I choose to think about how I need to get into Edward
Kyle’s office somehow.

The worst part
is that I’m sitting close to her and can’t touch her too much. Her
perfume’s an assault on my senses and the fucking dress she’s
wearing is hot, the V down the front just showing enough cleavage
to make me want to keep looking at it. Which I do constantly. And
then there’s her shoes. Heels so skinny they could pierce a man’s
heart and laces that wind around her ankles and tie in the back.
Damn.

When the
movie’s over, she looks up at me.

“That was
good, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah. Pretty
good,” I lie.

She fidgets
for a moment before saying, “Well, I probably should go to my
apartment.”

It’s not even
midnight but whatever.

I stand as she
does and we walk to the door.

“I had a
really good time tonight,” she states, looking up at me, running
her fingers down my face.

“I did too.”
I’m not sure what to do anymore because she’s in control and I
don’t want to scare her off by breaking the rules somehow. I stand
there waiting to see what she’ll do which is totally alien to me
because I’m usually the one in charge.

She then
slides her hand to the back of my neck pulling me down to kiss her,
and my hands go to her waist as I brush my lips across hers before
pulling back.

“I’ll walk you
down the hall,” I tell her unlocking the door.

“Wait,” she
whispers suddenly putting her hand on mine making me turn the
deadbolt back to lock it.

I look down at
her wondering what the hell’s going on.

“Don’t be
mad,” she says, still whispering and looking up at me.

Fuck. Is she
going to tell me that she doesn’t want to see me anymore? I grit my
teeth trying to keep from saying something mean like, she could’ve
told me this before I watched some ridiculous chick movie for an
hour and a half.

“Promise you
won’t be mad,” she presses.

I sigh.
“Laney, I can promise I’ll keep my temper but I can’t promise I
won’t be mad.”

“Fair enough,”
she mutters. “Okay, when Dani and I were in college, we’d both
gotten screwed around by guys. We were tired of it, so we made up a
test.”

I’m staring at
her wondering what the hell kind of test she’s talking about.

“It kinda
sounds dumb now but, um, you passed,” she adds sheepishly.

“What test?” I
ask, finding myself getting annoyed.

She shrugs.
“We decided that if a guy was sweet enough to sit through a chick
flick with us then he was worth our time.”

“You made me
sit through that movie to see if I was ‘sweet?’” I let out a
humorless laugh. “I can tell you this much, darlin’, I’m anything
but sweet.”

“I knew you’d
get mad.”

“I’m not mad.
I’m annoyed. What you did was basically a form of emotional
blackmail and I don’t appreciate it.”

I turn to pull
her wrap off the coat rack when she presses her body to mine.

“I’m sorry. I
know it seems weird, but it proved to me that you care about me. A
lot of guys would’ve gotten mad and had me leave once they realized
we weren’t going to have sex.” She bites her lip. “Does that make
sense to you?”

In a way it
does but I’m still pissed. What she did was fucked up.

“So when you
said you were scared, that was just bullshit?” I question.

She shakes her
head. “No, I am scared. Terrified, actually, because I really like
you a lot and you could hurt me badly.”

She tiptoes up
and presses her lips to my chin whispering, “I’m sorry.” She does
the same to my jaw then my neck still whispering, sliding her hands
down to untuck my undershirt, tugging it up so I take it off. Her
hands glide over my chest as she presses soft kisses behind them.
The next thing I know, she’s dropped to her knees and has my belt
unbuckled and my pants unbuttoned and unzipped. Damn. She looks up
at me as she reaches in and pulls out my cock smiling coyly as she
pumps her hand on my shaft getting me hard. Then I watch as those
lipstick-covered lips of hers slide their way down my length as she
takes me inside her mouth.

“Jesus fuck,”
I groan, wrapping my fingers in her hair, watching her move her
mouth on me.

After several
amazing minutes, she takes me out of her mouth and still holding my
dick in her hand, she licks the underside all the way up, moaning
like it’s a goddamned lollipop. Her head dips again, and I watch as
her red lips follow the same path her tongue just made, sucking me
in as she goes making me groan. Then bringing her other hand up she
cups my balls before moving down to suck each inside her hot little
mouth while her other hand strokes my length.

Fuck. Me.

She brings her
head back looking up at me seductively before taking me into her
mouth again this time all the way to the back of her throat, trying
to but not succeeding in getting all of me inside and gagging
slightly which lets me know I’m too big for her which is really a
huge turn on, and I’m ready to be in charge now. I reach down
putting my hands under her arms pulling her up to stand.

“Take off your
dress,” I order watching as she reaches a hand behind to unzip it,
her eyes on mine the whole time as she slips it off her shoulders
and down, stepping out of it and laying it across the chair by the
door.

She stands in
front of me now, braless, wearing a nude lace thong and those
shoes. Jesus.

“Touch
yourself,” I command watching her bring a hand up to caress her
breast, her fingers rolling her nipple between them as her other
hand drops to her pussy, moving her thong to the side as she begins
sliding her fingers over her folds.

I remove my
shoes and socks before completely disrobing then watching her, take
my cock in my hand stroking it seeing her eyes close and her head
fall back as she lets out a soft moan at what she’s doing to
herself. Oh fuck yeah.

“Are you wet?”
I growl.

“Yes,” she
breathes, looking at me through half-lidded eyes as her fingers
work her clit.

“Did it make
you wet to suck my dick?”

“God, yes,”
she says on an exhale.

“Do you want
my cock inside you?”

“Oh, yes,” she
pants. “Please.”

“You’re gonna
have to work harder for it than that,” I say, still pissed at her
for what she did.

It’s not that
I had to watch a fucking movie. It’s that it feels like what she
did was deceitful somehow, like I had to prove my worth to her
because she didn’t trust me, that’s got me angry. I know, I know.
Turnabout’s fair play and all that shit but I still can’t help
being mad.

“Make yourself
come, Laney,” I tell her.

Her eyes go
from mine down to me stroking myself and back up as she fingers
herself, her breaths coming harder as she lets out little mewls of
pleasure. My God she’s gorgeous. A fine mist covers her chest
shimmering in the light as she pants out each breath. She appears
wild, out of control and that’s fucking hot.

“Are you
close?” I ask.

“Yes!”

“Do you want
me?”

“Yes!” she
cries.

I pick her up
and carry her to the bar setting her on it. “Put your hands back to
hold yourself,” I instruct, grabbing her shins, holding onto them
just above where the straps of her stilettos are tied before
sliding inside her, going so deep we both cry out. She’s so fucking
tight like this and when she comes I’m right there with her because
her pussy is clamping down so tightly on my cock and feels so
damned good it’s perfect. She’s perfect.

I slam inside
her several more times before coming so powerfully my legs threaten
to buckle. She lies back on the bar and I come down on top of her,
my head at the side of her neck, both of us breathing hard. Good
God.

When I catch
my breath, I pull back looking down at her. She lifts a hand,
cupping my face and I turn so I can kiss her palm.

“That was…”
she breathes out. “That was… so… so… good…”

I nod in
agreement leaning down to suck her nipple into my mouth tugging on
it lightly with my teeth.

“Heath,” she
groans and I feel her pulsing around me some more which makes me
thrust a few times, my body involuntarily reacting to hers.

Damn.

Sliding out of
her I say, “Wrap your legs around me,” putting my hands under her
back to help her up then I carry her to my bedroom where I pull
back the covers and putting a knee to the bed, I lay her down
giving her a quick kiss before going to my bathroom to grab a
washrag.

After cleaning
her up I toss the cloth into the hamper, and turning back to her,
pull her legs up one at a time to undo the laces around her ankles
taking off her sexy shoes. I cover her before going into the living
room to turn off everything, grabbing my shirt and jacket from the
coat rack. Back in my room, I toss them onto a chair near my bed
then slide under the covers beside her.

When she lays
her head on my chest throwing her arm across my stomach, I curl my
arm around her and kiss the side of her head.

“Don’t ever
pull that shit on me again,” I say quietly.

“It led to
great sex,” she mumbles.

“Laney,” I
chide at which she giggles sleepily.

Lying awake
staring at the ceiling long after her breathing evens out and I
know she’s asleep, I find myself thinking maybe I should be the one
scared of getting hurt.

Fuck
.

 

 

Fifteen

 

The next morning, I
miss running again because I’m not sure Dani will want to go and
it’s not like I’m dying to get down there. Heath’s sleeping, so I
assume he’s not going to the weight room either. I look at the
clock to see it’s just after six rolling my eyes because of course
I wake up this early when I don’t need to
.

I get up and
use the bathroom, finding an unopened toothbrush and helping myself
to it. Heath’s still asleep when I come out and I can’t help but
look at him for a moment taking in all his handsomeness. He’s lying
on his side facing me, his chest and tattooed arm that’s outside
the cover all on display for my pervy ogling appreciation, his
beautiful face relaxed in repose and I see a cowlick at the front
of his hair that I haven’t noticed before which makes me smile. The
shirt he wore last night is on the back of a chair and I pull it on
before going into his kitchen to make up for last night because I
know it was shitty of me to test him that way.

As I walk
through his living room, I see a pen on a desk, and twisting my
hair into a messy bun, I stick the pen through it effectively
holding it in place. Now on to business. In the kitchen, I take
eggs, cheese and bacon from his fridge, setting them on the counter
then seeing an onion and a couple bell peppers in a basket, I
decide to make omelets.

Cracking an
egg into a bowl too late I realize he probably only eats the whites
seeing how picky he was at the restaurant last night, but as I try
getting the yolk out of the bowl, I only end up cursing the damned
thing when it breaks. I shrug thinking he’ll just have to deal this
once. My phone’s on the counter, my playlist streaming at a low
volume as I cook making it more fun because, well, music, when just
after I slide the second omelet onto a plate and turn off the
burner, an arm goes around my middle pulling me back into a hard
chest while a stubbly cheek brushes against my neck and soft lips
deliver sweet kisses making me shiver.

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