Page 42 of Take the Blame (Seaside Mergers #3)

Me . Sweet little Alta. He wanted me of all people, and that burst something in me. Sending not only a need for this pleasure he promised but also a need to please him right back.

I looked at him over my shoulder, greedily eating up what I could see in the dark. Bare chest toned and partially inked, abs defined, sweatpants tight along his thighs and outlining that huge thing I still hadn’t gotten to see in full light.

Beautiful. Mine. For right now at least. Same as I was to him.

I swallowed, my throat dry. “Permission granted.”

I was against the wall in another second. “Hands up, baby. Hold onto that.”

I did as he said, holding onto the wall in front of me, and I was rewarded with his hands again. They were everywhere. On my breast, in my panties, in my hair. They yanked me by the waist so that my butt was angled toward him, my back arched so that it was in the air.

I think he still had his pants on, but some pants they were, the way I could feel him so well against me. I officially wanted the useless fabric gone and him inside of me right now.

Harper felt the same.

I vaguely recognized the rip and snap of a condom before his long member was stroking against my butt.

“Yes?” a soft grunt asked from near my shoulder.

“Yes,” I said immediately. “Please.”

No other words were necessary. Not for the way he angled himself at my entrance and slipped all the way inside. Not for the rough delivery in which he stroked. Pounded. Lost control.

My body felt like his outlet, his muse . And I felt reverent as I fell apart from him playing me, pinching my nipples while he was thrust deep inside me. Coming undone completely as he strummed my center and lost himself to the baser desires of his body.

When we were done, we stayed there for a second, maybe longer, as he pressed his entire body against mine. Kissing me until I literally had to beg for air. I like how he kissed me after sex. Like he needed to sign a letter his body had just written to me.

It was consuming. So much so that, if I thought about it too much, it could become overwhelming. But instead of fighting the emotions falling over me, I let them bathe me. Let myself wash in the glow of being something transformed in someone’s eyes. Being exactly right for someone in something.

“Good?” I asked him in a shuddering breath.

“Fantastic,” he said. His eyes bore down into mine and I could tell he was trying to see more than he was able to in the dim lighting. “Sorry for the ambush.”

“It’s okay.” I bit my lip. “I liked it.”

He smiled, his nose coming down to rub against my own. “I could tell by your screams, sweetheart.”

I smacked his shoulder playfully, but it was weak. Honestly, I wasn’t sure I could stand straight on my own right now. Though I wouldn’t tell him that.

Wariness leaked through my gut as I took in his space. He hadn’t even turned the light on. Maybe this was one of those hit-it-and-quit-it sort of things. That’s what they called them, right?

“Should I… go?” I asked.

Darkness shadowed his brow as he looked at me. “You’re kidding?”

Slowly, I shook my head.

His eyes changed. If his teasing on the phone made me wonder if I was just a convenience for him, the look he was giving me now made me wonder the opposite. His words didn’t help to ease those suspicions. His throat bobbing slightly in a swallow.

“Is that all you came for?” he asked carefully.

It shouldn’t have been a hard question. But it was. Or rather, it was hard to admit. Because what did it even mean that no, I hadn’t just come here for his body?

That instead, I wanted to tell him about my day.

I wanted to hear his deep laughter or for him to tease me like he always did.

I wanted him to turn on the lights and show me his space and the life he lived outside the lines of our little deal.

Outside the lines where he was just my client, or I was just his student of sorts.

The truth was, I liked being around him. I always had. I thought he was funny and sweet and maybe a little gruff sometimes but only sometimes. Before, I thought he didn’t see me as an equal. I thought he only saw me as the same naive girl everyone else seemed to see.

I didn’t think that now. He was making it clear that he thought me capable of more than I even thought of myself. Stronger. And ever since that switch flipped, I found myself addicted to letting myself finally enjoy being around him.

I could have lied but looking at his eyes, I think he could already read me, and I didn’t feel like pretending right now.

Slowly, I let my head shake again, the truth of it heavier in my chest than I thought as I hung my heart on my sleeve waiting for his response

My dread was unwarranted. A moment later he smiled, because of course he smiled, and he kissed me. Speaking close to my lips, he said. “Then gimme your keys. I’ll pull your car into the garage.”

His house in the light was every bit as surprising as it was in the dark. Harper seemed like he’d be a modern guy—one of those stainless steel everywhere men who only used the color black in their decorating.

No. His place was warm. Bright. Accented everywhere with light wood colors and warm textured fabrics.

And he had pictures everywhere. Not in the family portrait way but in the art way.

Paintings and collages and drawings decorating the walls periodically in tasteful configurations.

All his art was beautiful, but it was notable that he almost didn’t have any pictures of real people anywhere.

Almost.

There was one person he had a picture of near the entryway.

A girl. Skin dark like his, hair long and deep brown like his too.

She was a repeat offender, with a photo by herself, pictured holding up a certificate with the biggest grin on her face and another one with Harper, hopped onto his back with her hands spread high in the air.

They looked young in it, though Harper was still old enough to have some of that rugged handsomeness surfacing. He was looking up at her with love in his eyes, that much was obvious. Maybe adoration too. But strangely enough, he didn’t have any tattoos.

How long ago was this? And who was this girl to still have a hold on him after so long?

Given the grand tour, Harper showed me the majority of his place. It consisted of all the regular stuff—kitchen, living room, hallways and more rooms.

It also consisted of some pretty amazing features too, like tall floor to ceiling windows which overlooked the rocky waves on one side, and the lights of the city far off in the distance on the other.

His office especially caught my eye. Drawings, paintings, scraps and printouts hung everywhere. Two desks sat on opposite sides of the room, each sprawled with so many things, but surprisingly not just with drawings, but with gadgets.

I didn’t get to look at it for long but the little metal pieces scattered about, not to mention the tool kit, all caught my eye, striking me as strange.

I wanted to ask him more about what I saw, but he rushed me out and as we walked away I found more pressing questions weighing on the forefront of my mind.

“Who’s that girl in the pictures in the entryway?” I asked over the glass of water he just gave me .

He didn’t need to ask who I was referring to. He already knew. “My sister.”

That explained some of it, but still, why was that picture so old? Why wasn’t there an updated one anywhere? I sipped my water. “Does she live close by?”

“No.”

“Well, where does she live? What does she do?” I asked, wanting to break into something that was important enough for him to display in his home.

His sad smile instantly made me want to take it back. His eyes flashed up to me for only a second, shameful and weary. “I dunno.”

Oh .

Without a shadow of a doubt, I hated that look on his face. It didn’t belong there, that frown. Not where the guy I knew always smiled. Always laughed. Always stood tall.

I wanted to ask him more about her, more about what not knowing where she was in the world could mean about their relationship, but I wanted to get that look off his face more.

My eye caught onto my clothes which he’d picked up from where they’d been strewn on the floor and draped over the back of wooden dining room chairs. Seeing them, I scoffed a laugh that was only half-forced.

“Did you hate my outfit that much?” I asked.

Immediately rewarded by the mirth in his eyes, I watched as he searched my face for clues. “How do you figure?”

“You ripped it off fast enough. And I think you growled at my gloves.”

His soft laughter filled my ears and calmed my stirring heart. “I wasn’t expecting the marshmallow getup after all that sexting you did. I thought you would come, like, naked under a trench coat or some shit.”

“Sexting!” I laughed. “I was not sexting. ”

“You so were,” he grinned. “Don’t worry, it turned me on enough that even your Michelin man coat couldn’t deter me.”

I snorted. “I like my coat!”

“It’s cute. I like it too,” he said. “I like it better on the ground.”

“Oh I get it.” I nodded, setting my glass down on the counter beside me, I pulled myself onto the dining table to sit. My voice took on as low of a monotone as I could get. “Harper’s so tough, he only fucks , and all his girls wear lingerie, and he never kisses on the mouth, and?—”

Soft lips cut me off, a strong hand their contrast as it held onto my neck and pulled me tight against him. This kiss was as punishing as it was consuming, and it had me feeling hot and needy way too soon after just coupling not twenty feet away nor twenty minutes ago.

He pulled his lips away, but that’s it. Letting his fingers sink into my hair, the pads of them running along my scalp, his other hand held my hip gently.

“You’re so wrong,” he said.

“Yeah? What about?”

“I never said I don’t kiss. I’d kiss you from sunup to sundown if you let me,” he said.

“Hmm,” I replied. Only because what else was there to say? There wasn’t a singular word that could express the cocktail of emotion his words pulled from me, so I wouldn’t even try. “Anything else?”

“Yeah.” He ran his eyes over me, before saying. “Sure we’re fucking, Alta, but I want to make two things clear. One. Just because I like to call it vulgar words and tease, doesn’t mean I don’t cherish every fucking time you let me share this with you. And it doesn’t mean it means nothing to me.”

I swallowed. “And two?”

“Two.” His eyes lowered, his gaze going dark. “There are no other girls. ”

Sweat licked the back of my neck. Hot. I was so hot, every inch of me warm with his touch and his words and the overwhelming feeling he was conjuring in my chest.

“Is that it?” I whispered. Begged. I don’t think I could take anything else.

“Nope.” My breath hitched, but his smile returned.

Soft and sweet with that little lilt of mischief that was so him.

“I like your clothes, Boss. I was just messing. I like seeing you done up for work, I like seeing you decked out for Halloween, and I like seeing this side of you too. Dressed down and comfortable. I like you comfortable with me.”

In a few minutes flat, he’d turned me into absolute mush with his words alone. But I wasn’t ready to give up his attention yet.

I sniffed into the air dramatically making a show of snubbing him. “How would you know if you liked my outfit, you didn’t even see the whole thing.”

He paused, eyes drifting over my body. “Is there something I missed?”

I nodded. “A thing or two.”

“Show me,” he growled.

My smile felt impish as it hurt my cheeks. “Oh, now he wants to see?—”

“You are being such a smartass tonight,” he fake grumbled.

The pressure of his body closer to mine was very real, though. His hips coming between my knees, his hands around my back.

He kissed me, slow and sweet. “Show. Me.”

“Say please,” I said.

He grinned. “How about I make you?”

I pretended to think about it. “I could work with that.”

I was out of my pants again a moment later. A second after that, my top was over my head and what I’d put on under my clothes was on display.

“Well goddamn ,” he breathed. His eyes were wide as he took me in, the brown irises bouncing everywhere and his appreciation pouring from every part of his expression. “Tell me you wore this for me.”

Laughter lived in my chest with him here, my body feeling light and weightless in his presence, allowing me to do and say things I normally wouldn’t with anyone else. Crooking a finger, I gestured him closer. Thrill shot through my entire body when he obeyed. That alone almost got me wet.

Leaning his palms on the table at my sides, Harper leaned over me. Waiting.

“Wanna know a secret?” I asked. He nodded so quickly, his head could have bobbled off his shoulders.

Slowly, I pushed my hands along his skin.

Running them up the sides of his neck and onto the back of his head, then down over his shoulders and onto his sides and his waist. Arching up, I brought my lips near his ear and whispered. “I’m always wearing stuff like this.”

“Fuck,” he groaned, and that sealed the deal.

He was on me so hot and hard and fierce that he had me panting and squirming for him in record time. With my fine lace bra pulled down under my bust and the matching lace thong yanked to the side, Harper was naked and hard from the waist down for the second time in the same hour.

He was bare again and pressing up against my heat in slow, agonizing slides. By the second minute of teasing I was whimpering. “Harper please.”

“Mmm, mmm,” he hummed against my lips. “Ask me pretty, how I like.”

It took me an extra second to work out what he was saying through the fog of my brain, but once I did I didn’t even hesitate. “Fuck me, Harper.”

His smile felt like a part of me now as it spread along my lips. “As you wish, Boss.”

Later, he gave me clothes to pull on instead of my own.

On the couch, he pulled me close to him and tucked me into his arms before handing over the remote.

And when my eyes started to droop with heaviness, my head bobbing all over the place, I remember feeling his familiar hands slip through my hair, gentle as he guided my cheek to his chest.

I was on the edge of sleep, the world feeling like a dream when his soft lips touched my temple and his low words murmured, “Thank you for staying.”

I spent the rest of my dream fighting to tell him there was no place I’d rather be.