“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.