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My lips curve, because what’s crazy is the fact that this billionaire wants me, a girl with no permanent address and a closet full of damage. Harrison’s shoulders pull tight under the shirt. He’s gorgeous and a little reckless, his hair sticking up as if he’s been running his fingers through it.

“Crazy enough I only wore a damn shirt to dinner.”

I slide a hand under the edge of that shirt and rest my palm over the scars on his chest. My thumb traces the edge, and I get off on the way his pulse skips beneath my touch. “It’s a good shirt,” I whisper.

Riding a wave of arousal, I reach back for the knot on my dress and unfasten it. It falls to the floor.

Harrison’s gaze roams my body, from my bare legs to the curve of my hips to my simple, nude lace bra, before landing on my face. “Beautiful. Everywhere.”

My skin hums at his praise.

He inches closer, threads his fingers into my hair. “Feel how hard you make me.” He takes my hand from his chest and places it over the bulge in his pants. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you.”

“Pshh. The tiniest fraction of your life,” I breathe. “You are ten years older.”

“Means I know how to make you mine.”

My hand wraps around his length through his pants. His grin fades, his gaze flaring with heat.

I unfasten his shirt one button at a time, pushing it off his shoulders. He tosses it to the floor without looking.

What’s between us might not end well, but I’ve never felt the rush I feel around him—outside of the booth.

I’m willing to take this chance…

As long as he’ll let me drive.

I sink to my knees and take him out of his dress pants. He’s huge and hard, and I’ve never salivated for a dick before, but apparently there’s a first time for everything.

“I prefer it when?—”

“I know how to give a blow job,” I retort, earning myself a chastising look.

“I’ll enjoy it more if you do it the way I like.”

I flip him off, for old times’ sake. He grabs my hand and sucks my middle finger into his mouth.

A jolt of pleasure grips my spine as heat wraps around me, settling into a dull ache of pleasure between my thighs.

“Is that a request?” I manage, but his wicked tongue is messing with my head.

“I prefer those hands engaged in more productive pursuits,” he rasps when he releases me.

For once, I’m not arguing.

I turn my attention back to his hard cock. I wrap my fingers around him, using the wetness from his mouth to slide up and down.

His exhale is half-groan and entirely sexy.

I take him in one long ambitious stroke until he hits the back of my throat.

“Fuck, Raegan. Your dirty mouth is so fucking sweet.”

He wants to take control. His hand fists in my hair, pushing me down, and I shove him away. Eventually his touch comes back, cupping my face, fingers threading into my hair, thumb brushing my hollowed cheek as I suck him.

Having this kind of power is like the feeling of playing to a huge crowd, only this is better.

“You’re preening,” he rasps when I pull off him to catch my breath.