Page 19 of Breathless in Love


  "Did you like the show?"

  "It was wonderful. Thank you so much for taking me." The plot was a little fuzzy, though, since she'd been so taken over by him that she couldn't remember much of it. But what she did remember--all of his incredible kisses, the way he'd teased her with barely-there caresses--made her tingle all over.

  "It was my pleasure. Being with you always is." He tipped the stem of her glass, and murmured, "Drink."

  It was ambrosia, with a hint of almonds and the sweetness of the fruit at the bottom.

  "Now try a caviar chaser." He unscrewed the lid of the caviar and dipped his finger into the pot.

  No spoon, no cracker. Just him. His lids half-closed, he fixated on her lips as they parted, and she took his finger into her mouth.

  He was a burst of flavor--the rich, buttery taste of the caviar and the saltiness of his skin. An ache blossoming deep in her core, she licked him clean, every last morsel. The sensory overload was already close to sending her over the edge, but when he trailed a kiss along the low neck of her dress, over the swell of her breast, she was sure she would die of wanting him.

  Slowly, he pulled away, raining more kisses over her skin before saying, "Your turn."

  Dazed with desire, Harper dipped a finger into the pot, retrieving a scoop of the luxury before Will set it back on the console. Then he captured her wrist, bringing her hand to his lips. His eyes on hers, he went down on her finger and sucked the caviar away.

  The limo idled through the city traffic, but she no longer needed speed to get that wild, crazy feeling from racing fast in a car.

  All it took was one touch from Will.

  He licked her finger once more, his gaze smoldering. Then he tipped her champagne against her lips. She took a long drink, the bubbles bursting all the way down her throat. When she was done, he leaned in and tasted her mouth, licking away the drops of the champagne.

  "I want you now," he whispered against her lips, "but I swore to myself I'd have you in my bed tonight. All night long. Over and over."

  Moments later, the car stopped and the door opened, garage lights beaming beyond the driver's shoulder. Her knees seemed to wobble as Will helped her from the car. He carried the two champagne glasses in one hand as he walked her to the elevator, which he opened with a special key card. There were no floor buttons. Once inside, he simply inserted the key again. The doors closed as the limo rolled away.

  His arm wrapped around her, he held the glass to her lips once more. "Eat the fruit. It's been sitting in champagne." He tipped the glass until the berries slid down into her mouth. They were rich with bubbles, sweet and sparkling.

  Then Will's lips crushed hers. He held her tight against his body, pressing her up against the elevator wall as he tasted the fruit with her.

  But though she'd truly had an amazing time at the show tonight and the fancy ride, complete with fruited champagne and delicious caviar had been seductive and decadent, she hadn't needed any of it to be happy.

  All she'd needed was him.

  *

  Harper's taste on Will's lips lingered as the elevator doors opened and they stepped into his flat.

  "Wow."

  Harper's breathy exclamation of wonder called him to her. She glided to the wall of windows showcasing the vast blackness of a nighttime San Francisco Bay, with the blazing lights of the city, the Golden Gate Bridge, Sausalito, and the East Bay surrounding the water like a ring of fire. Abandoning the champagne glasses on the coffee table, Will shadowed her.

  "It's so beautiful." She spoke to the inky night and to him.

  With the room still dark behind them and moonlight falling across her, she was more beautiful than any landscape. He shifted to stand close at her back, seeing through her eyes. He'd bought the place because of the view, but he'd long since stopped noticing it. Harper made it fresh again as he shared her awe, revealing the beauty he'd forgotten.

  She turned her head slightly to gaze at him over her shoulder. "Do you sit here at night just staring at all this?"

  "I haven't." But he could sit here all night watching her. "But I see now that I've been missing something."

  He'd been missing so damn much until she'd walked into his life. If only what he felt for her was enough to wipe out ten years of his past, from the ages of eight to eighteen...

  She turned back to the vista, leaning against him. "Just looking out your windows would be like meditation after a long work day."

  "Maybe I should rearrange the furniture and make this window the centerpiece."

  "Yes, you should," she said, and her hair, still fragrant with some sweet shampoo, brushed his cheek, his chin.

  He'd planned the evening meticulously, from dinner to the sold-out tickets for the two-week run, the limo, the caviar, the fruit in the champagne glasses. He'd wanted to wow her.

  But he was the one wowed. From the very first moment he'd set eyes on her.

  She needs to know how you feel. Trust her with your secrets.

  Susan's words had been his constant companions since their talk. Wrapping his arm around Harper's waist, he pulled her back tightly against him, as he wondered for the hundredth time: Could she handle what was in his heart? Or would it send her running?

  Rich men in fast cars, the teenager who'd run her brother down, the wealthy father who'd bailed him out--Will knew he embodied all Harper's fears and he instinctively stiffened at the thought of losing her.

  "Will?" She turned slightly to look up at him again, her eyes meeting his. "Is everything okay?"

  He brushed her hair aside to plant a kiss on the sensitive skin of her neck. "You're here." He sucked her skin, leaving his mark on her, then moved up to her ear, a sweet little hot spot, and nibbled. "Everything is amazing."

  "You make me totally crazy when you do that." She twirled and wrapped her arms around his neck. "You're such a tease."

  He wanted to tease her right up to heaven, wanted to give her so much pleasure that she'd never, ever think about leaving him. "The word tease implies no follow-through. And believe me, I intend to follow through." He kissed her lightly. "All--" Kiss. "--night--" Kiss. "--long." Then he parted her lips and took her mouth, hot need spiking through him. "You're absolutely perfect."

  "So are you."

  But he wasn't.

  Not even close.

  *

  Harper was dying for him to tear off her clothes, throw her down on the carpet, and take her right in front of the window.

  That was how he always made her feel--totally wild, crazy, and out of control. But this was going to be a night for firsts: the first time in his bed, the first time with him completely naked, the first time she'd have him all night long and wake up beside him in the morning.

  They'd rushed everything else, but she couldn't bear to rush this.

  Even if it killed her.

  And yet, when she looked into his eyes, she saw shadows. The same shadows that had been there moments before when his whole body had tensed against her back.

  "Will." She reached for his cheek. "If something's wrong--"

  "No." The word sounded choked. "Nothing's wrong when you're here. Nothing's wrong when you're with me." But there was a storm in his eyes. "Let me love you, Harper. Please, just let me love you."

  His words rippled over her, through her, tugging at her heart. So even though she knew this was just supposed to be for fun, how could she say anything but, "Love me, Will."

  The next thing she knew, he tugged her dress off her shoulder and traced a finger down until it rested against her breast. Slowly pulling the material aside, he revealed the lace of her black bra. Slowly, so slowly that she nearly went crazy, he pulled the cup down until her aroused flesh finally popped free.

  "Delicious," he whispered before he bent his head.

  His thick, soft hair caressed her skin, and his tongue devastated her. She held him tight as he licked her, then closed his lips around the peak and sucked.

  All her electrons were firing like crazy when h
e raised his head and said, "More."

  He always wanted more from her. And she always gave it to him.

  When she whispered "More," he splayed a hand across her back and turned her insides to liquid with his lips and tongue.

  Then his teeth scraped across her, like a live wire straight to her center. Her body shuddered, and she clung to him, gasping, writhing. It wasn't an orgasm, but a deep, needy quaking that made her moan, clutch him tight...and beg.

  "Please."

  "Whatever you want."

  "I want you naked." Her need whispered out on a breath. "I want to see all of you."

  He was always the one taking her clothes off. But she couldn't wait any longer to see every inch of that gloriously hard flesh.

  She expected his usual grin, but just that quickly, the storm was back in his eyes as he suddenly lifted her in his arms to carry her through the dark living room. There was no hall, just a doorway off the central area. In his bedroom, city lights illuminated a four-foot rectangle in front of the window, hiding the rest in darkness. He walked unerringly to the bed and laid her down gently.

  They'd been in the dark since they'd entered his apartment, but that wasn't enough for her anymore. "I need light," she said, "or I won't be able to see you." And she had to see.

  He paused for a long moment, his face still grim in the shadows, before finally flicking a light switch. The lamp lit the bed, his scrumptious black tux, white shirt, and lightly mussed hair.

  A dark wood bureau matched the nightstands and headboard. White tile glinted through the bathroom doorway, and a big jet tub two steps up lay just beyond in the shadows. His personal space was expensively furnished with a fabulous view and probably cost a fortune--he even had his own elevator, for goodness sake--but while it was rich, there was nothing that shouted Will's ownership.

  Instead, it looked almost lonely.

  He advanced on her. "You have on too many clothes."

  He was still minus his usual grin, but the sensuality in his tone made her forget all about the room and its lack of a personal touch. There was only the huge bed and the gorgeous apartment.

  And Will.

  "So do you," she agreed. And this was her turn. All the other times, he'd managed to keep even his shirt on. "I want to see you, the way you've seen me," she insisted, her pulse throbbing.

  He moved away from her then to snap the blinds closed, so that it was just them--no people on the street far below, no cars honking. And when he turned back to face her, she realized he'd never looked at her with such raw hunger...or such deep, tormented emotion.

  "I'm all yours, Harper."

  All hers.

  At least for tonight.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Harper rose slowly, shrugging the shoulders of her dress up and letting it fall back into place. For once, she was going to keep her dress intact while Will was the one exposed.

  "Shoes first," she directed.

  He quickly toed them off and kicked them away.

  She stepped close, talking as she undid his jacket. "I love your tux." She loved him in the tux.

  Walking around him, she slipped her fingers inside the front lapels and pulled the jacket down his arms. She folded it, laying it across a chair in the corner. Even from this angle, he was strong, muscled. She trailed a hand across his back as she circled him once more. "I've never tied a bow tie."

  "All you need to know is how to untie it."

  She slipped the knot, smiling as she noted, "No cummerbund."

  "I thought that would make it easier when you undressed me."

  She tsked. "You didn't know I was going to undress you."

  "Yes, I did." His eyes were hot.

  Of course he did. Because she'd never been able to resist him, had she? But there was no time--and no need--to beat herself up about that now. Not when he was still waiting for her to undress him. And she was dying to see every last gorgeous, naked inch of him.

  She cocked her head. "Hmm. Cufflinks first? Or shirt buttons?" She put a finger to her lips. He'd kissed her hard and deep, but the lipstick was long-lasting and wouldn't smudge. She liked the idea of her lipstick against his--

  "Shirt buttons," he decided for her.

  "Definitely." She wanted to feel his skin, the sooner the better.

  She pulled the shirt from his waistband and slowly unbuttoned it, her fingers caressing his flesh. The dusting of hair on his chest was soft, silky. She trailed down, and when she looked up, he was anything but unaffected. A pulse beat at his throat, and his gaze seared her. She loved the power his eyes gave her, how potent he made her feel. She pushed his shirt aside and slicked her tongue over him, eliciting another telltale quiver.

  "You like?"

  "You make me crazy, I like it so much." Need turned his voice harsh.

  She wanted to go straight for his belt, to see what she could only feel right now. To touch. And taste. But this was a strip tease, for both their pleasure.

  Running one hand down his arm, she flicked the cufflink at his wrist and pulled it free. She did the same with the other, loving the soft plop as they hit the carpet. More touching, teasing, her hands on his skin as she walked her fingers up, to the top of the shirt, over his shoulders beneath the cotton, then down his strong arms. She let the shirt billow to his feet.

  "You're beautiful." She stepped back to absorb him and couldn't resist touching. Muscled shoulders down to pectorals and tapering into washboard abs. "And you've got a tattoo."

  His biceps hardened as she traced the ink's contours. A muscle car. And over it, the stylized phrase, Road Warriors.

  "Very sexy. Like Sons of Anarchy or something."

  He clenched his teeth and hissed in a breath. Then he said, "Or something."

  "Was it a club you belonged to?"

  Two long beats of silence. "Yeah."

  "You're a bad boy." One who made her weak in the knees every single time he kissed her. "And you know how women feel about bad boys," she teased.

  "Tell me how you feel, Harper."

  Couldn't he tell already? Didn't he know? "It makes me hot. You make me hot."

  The air soaked up his tension, raising the hair on her arms like static electricity. Until he blinked it away...and moved her fingers to his belt.

  *

  Harper unbuckled and unzipped while he watched. Her hands were trembling slightly, but she didn't stop, just tucked her lower lip between her teeth as she concentrated on taking off the rest of his clothes. And when her lips curved up in a little smile and she gracefully dropped to her knees...oh hell, he nearly lost it right then and there. Nearly tore her dress from her and took her the way he'd been wanting to take her all night long.

  "You're gorgeous." There was no artifice in her voice, just reverent awe.

  He kicked aside the pile of his clothing. "You've seen me before."

  Still down on her knees, she tipped her head back, her hair falling in waves around her shoulders. Will's heart thumped hard knowing she was his for this night. He'd waited so damn long and now his hands shook, just as hers had when she was undressing him. He fisted them in her hair to hide it.

  "Only parts of you." Her gaze was soft, her lips sweet. "The parts you've let me see. Tonight is the first time I'm seeing all of you."

  Jesus, she had no idea what she was saying, did she? No idea that she'd just seen more of him than any other woman had. She hadn't balked at his tattoo. She'd thought it was sexy. But it would lose all its sexiness if she knew what it really meant.

  She leaned in to swipe her tongue along his length and his thoughts scattered as everything inside him clenched, coiled, made ready to pounce. She smiled as though she knew exactly what she did to him.

  "You still have all your clothes on," he somehow managed to say.

  He wanted her naked. On the bed. Spread out. He'd never wanted anyone this intensely, with every cell primed, each sense attuned. Only Harper. Her scent was sweet, with the added spice of arousal. Her fingers were silk caressing
his skin. Her kiss was a drug he couldn't get enough of.

  "We're even, then," she replied, "since I'm always the one who's naked."

  Susan had said he needed to let Harper know how he felt. There were so many things--need, desire, amazement, love. But right now all he could get his brain to manage was, "I need you, Harper." He pulled her to her feet and unzipped the cocktail dress. Pressing kisses to her spine as the material slid down and pooled at her feet, he licked the sensitive hollow at the base. The last to go was her bra. Standing behind her, he cupped her breasts in his hands. "I need you so damned much." Her head back against his shoulder, she arched into his palms, silently begging.

  Until tonight, he'd tried to play it cool with her, teased her, made her climax in ways he was sure she never had before. But he'd never completely let go. Not even the night in his '57 Chevy. Even then, he'd been aware of every action he took, calculating whether it gave her what she craved. Letting go was risky.

  But if he didn't let go--and if he didn't let her in--then all he could ever be to her was some hot sex on the hood of his car or in the front seat of his Chevy. But he wanted so much more with Harper. Needed more with every cell in his body, with every heartbeat, every breath.

  He reached around her and dragged the coverlet down the bed, tugging the blanket and sheet to the bottom. He picked her up and was so far out on the edge of reason that he all but tossed her onto the bed.

  He went to her nipples first, licking, sucking, until she arched against him. "The way you taste." He swiped his tongue across a peak. "The sounds you make. The way your body begs for more. All of you makes me crazy, Harper."

  She threaded her hands through his hair. "You make me crazy, too."

  He crawled up her body, then rolled until she was on top. Spreading her legs over him, he pulled her hips down, riding her center without actually entering her. She was slick and hot. She curled her body around him, her hips moving up into his, quaking, gasping, her heart beating so hard he could feel it.

  He'd never felt so wild with a woman as when he hauled her up, clamped his hands on her hips, and pulled her to his mouth. Jesus, she was sweet. Wet. He held her to him, drinking her in. He circled, spiraling down slowly until he touched the center of her pleasure.

  Above him, she grabbed the headboard, her hips undulating, her body directing him, telling him how to move, where to kiss. He kneaded her hips in his hands, increasing the friction, the pleasure. Her sounds filled the room, gasps, sighs, little cries. He was voracious, consuming her as she shuddered, trembled.