Page 23 of Take the Blame (Seaside Mergers #3)

I didn’t fight him as he pulled me into the tattoo shop, locking the door behind us as he did. Inside, he brought us around the front desk and handed me the water bottle. It was cold in contrast to my overly warm everything else.

I watched him closely as I took slow sips trying to gauge what on earth he could be thinking behind those eyes. He watched me just as closely, but instead of the uncertainty and caution that I felt, he seemed to have an air of surety to him that I didn’t possess but wanted.

Finally, with a sigh Gus leaned back against the desk. “I assume you’re here for a reason.”

Gulping down one last sip, I closed the water bottle and set it down in the chair beside me. Then I proceeded to wring my fingers in front of myself.

“Um…” I said nervously. I glanced around myself, remembering it was just the two of us here. “About what you said the other day. All that stuff about, um, using you. Do you have proof?”

A dark eyebrow raised along his face. “Proof?”

“Yeah,” I said. “You know, like proof of concept. Proof that… this will do what you say it’s going to do.”

“Are you kidding?” he asked.

“No.”

“You want me to show you how I can take your mind off all your shit?”

“Yeah?” My voice went up, nerves kicking in.

His smile ticked up, wicked as he watched me. “With my mouth or something else?”

“What else?”

“Now, Boss,” he chided, clicking his tongue slightly. He folded his arms across his chest, his body leaning deeper into the desk. “Do you really need me to answer that?”

“No,” I whispered breathily.

Shaking his head too, his hand going under his chin, his thumb swiping at his lip absently. “Proof of concept, huh?”

Slowly, I nodded .

He slid his hands into his pockets, his voice still casual as he said, “Come take it then.”

I fidgeted nervously but kept his gaze. “Just take it?”

“Mhmm,” he said, watching me closely. When I just stood there staring, he gave me a smart aleck look. “Need me to show you how, Princess ?”

My stare turned into a glare, that fast. And just as quick, I felt the rushing thrill of being able to glare at someone. The euphoric release of being mad, something I could only do so freely with him. Maybe he really was onto something. “I told you not to call me that.”

“You gonna do something about it?” he asked.

The full force of my indignation pushed my next movements, propelling me forward so that one second I was standing across from him and the next I was right up under him. He was tall, and even though he was leaning enough to bring him to my level, I still had to tip my chin to glare up at him.

He didn’t look fazed, not even removing his hands from his pockets in response to my advance. I started there first. Circling my palms around his large wrists and placing them down on the counter at his sides.

Thrill shot through my gut when he didn’t fight the movements, instead letting me. Next, I ran my hands up the taut muscles of his forearms. Each tattoo my fingers brushed, I wanted the story behind. But something else I wanted more guided my hands further over his body.

Harper let me step close to him. He let me press my body between his spread legs and anchor myself against his chest and lift my face close to his, and he didn’t say a word.

His eyes said plenty as they burned into me, following my every move like a predator.

But he did nothing to deter me from my cautious explorations with his body as my muse .

“Is this what you wanted, Harper?” I asked, hovering against his lips.

He chased my touch, leaning closer but curbing himself before he could press his mouth onto mine. “Just waiting on you.”

And wait we did. One second. Two seconds. Three, four, five. My heart raced as I was a literal millimeter away from crossing this line with him.

But I couldn’t do it.

Pulling away, I tried to take a step back. Harper was quicker, though. His large hand sliding behind my neck, cupping it and the back of my head in a gentle hold. His other hand slid along my waist, holding me to him. Pulling me closer.

“Woah, woah, woah,” he said. His voice was a murmur, his words spoken along my lips. “Don’t you dare wimp out now, Boss.”

“I—” I stopped, not knowing where exactly I was going with that.

I could push him away now and I’m absolutely sure he would let me.

Yet I was not absolutely sure that I wanted to.

I looked up into his eyes. Brown eyes that I hated.

But did I? No, I don’t think I did. Not when they were looking at me with what I now realized was respect.

It was pathetic that it had taken me so long to place it.

That I didn’t even recognize it when it was hitting me in the face.

But there it was, Harper respected me, and he always had.

He saw all of me, not just the sweet parts and he still respected me.

And that alone was the reason I felt comfortable enough to give him a tiny moment of vulnerability when before I might sooner die than show him my weak points.

“I need help,” I admitted on a bated breath.

His smile was intimate this time, like we’d already shared something. Like he already knew. “So it’s my turn now?”

“Yes,” I said.

Hands gripped either side of my waist and spun me so fast I lost my breath.

Before I knew it, I was being lifted onto the counter behind me, my legs spreading apart wide enough to allow Harper to step between them.

Those hands slid from my waist, over my hips and onto my thighs where he gripped me.

I had to fight to keep my legs from falling completely apart for him.

And when he raised his palm to graze my face I all but shuddered.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” he said, his hand running up my jaw. “In a few seconds, I’m going to kiss you. And when I do, I want you to use all those feelings from when you’re mad, or frustrated, or just want to let it out, and let it out on me.”

“But how?—”

The pad of his thumb traced my bottom lip. He leaned forward, his nose grazing along mine as he pressed into me, insisting, “Take what you need, Alta. Take it from me, take it out on me. Take whatever, baby. Just make sure it's with me.”

And he kissed me.

Soft at first. His cushiony lips pressing over mine in a mirror of the way I’d pressed into him the other day.

A question, a precursor to what came next.

Waiting for my response, I shuddered, the feeling just as good now as it was before, but not as simple.

Not with the way he soon pressed further, his hand finding the back of my neck and tilting my head the way he wanted.

My lips parted on a soft pant and he used the opening to slide his tongue inside.

He groaned when I touched mine back to his and growled when I pushed in further, desperate to explore him more. The hand that was not controlling my neck was firmly gripping my thigh, squeezing and stroking in a way that elicited an ache at the center of me.

All over, his touch made me heated. Teleporting me from being in the tattoo shop to being in the clouds.

I liked the way he controlled everything, from the position of my neck to the pace in which he ravaged my mouth.

He had this, and he knew how to make it feel good. Showing me, just like he said he would.

But something about the way Gus responded to my own touch. The vocal ways in which he hummed, moaned, groaned when I did as little as respond to him had me remembering that this was my show. He said so himself. Take it out on him.

And even though his lips were already making me feel loose, maybe even a little too loose as I slipped a little closer to him, my legs tightening around his hips, I wanted to try it.

I moved my hands. Sliding them up his chest and circling them behind his neck.

Then I tugged him over me. It wasn’t soft either.

The force pulled him so far down that he had to catch himself and me with a palm pressed to the counter and another to the middle of my back.

I didn’t stop there, especially not when he growled his approval and kissed me harder as a result.

I met him with just as rough of a kiss. Our mouths scraping together with friction and fervor, our tongues hot yet soothing as they passed over and over each other, and our bodies smashed together like they were next.

In my haze of taking, my hips slid even further. My chest arching up into his as he held onto my back like I was hanging over a cliff. And when that part of me connected with nothing other than his freaking belt. A whimpering moan fell out of me so hard that I trembled.

Harper pulled away, our lips breaking apart but our heads and bodies continued to press together. Our breathing was ragged and out of tune as we both sucked in air.

“Shit, Alta,” he hissed, and another tremble passed through me at the guttural sound of his voice.

Had I done that to him?

I peeled my eyes open, my head tipping back slightly so I could peek at him. What I saw made me want to do it all over again.

Here was a man who smiled at every turn, who constantly teased me and challenged me. Here was a guy who, until recently, I was sure I’d never seen with a serious bone in his body. And he was staring at me like he wanted to eat me alive.

In a good way .

Clearing my throat, I leaned backward against my hands to keep my balance. I managed to meet his eye as I asked, “Like that?”

“Yeah, baby.” He was still looking at me in a daze. Clearing his throat, he added, “Just like that.”

My stomach somersaulted at his husky words. It took me a while to place it, but I realized after a moment that Gus Harper was flustered .

I couldn’t help it, I giggled at his astonished expression. I also couldn’t help the electric sense of triumph that raced through my body.

I finally let it out.