“Maybe they kept it hidden.” The way he had.
“I don’t think so.” She kept her gaze and her touch on the tattoo, the barest hint of a smile on her mouth. “I’d never been with a bad boy before. Not until you.”
He flexed his arm, the tattooed car undulating as if its engine were revving, which made her smile. “I used to be a bad boy,” he said, “but now—”
“You’re still one,” she said in a husky voice. “Every time you kiss me. Every time you touch me. Every time you look at me from across a room and I know that you’re mentally stripping me bare. Or,” she added with a sexy little smile, “when you’ve got me naked beneath you on your plane.”
“Naked and so damned sweet that you blow my mind every single time.” He licked her lips, then trailed his mouth along her jaw, down her throat. He tongued the sweet skin at the hollow of her collarbones. He worshipped her breasts, tasting them until she moaned and arched beneath him.
Thank God she’d said she liked being with a bad boy, because he couldn’t stop himself from taking her with his fingers, hard and fast until her breath became sexy little pants that strummed his nerve endings. He bit her neck then, in the way she loved, and she tightened around him, her body rising, her breath falling, her pleasure sounds wrapping around his insides and pulling him in deep.
Until Harper, sex had never been more than a physical release. It hadn’t been sweet. It hadn’t had meaning. But now her pleasure meant absolutely everything to him as she writhed on the bed, brought her legs up around his back, fisted her hands in the sheet, and cried out. Her body bucked against his and tiny tremors rippled across her belly as she climaxed hard.
But she didn’t cry out again, and he knew it had to be because she’d obviously remembered where they were. She’d thought about his cabin crew, and she’d shut herself down.
For so long, ever since she’d had to take charge of her brother, she’d shut down her innate passion, and along with it, so much joy.
But he didn’t want her to ever have to do that again.
* * *
Harper had barely come down off her delirious high when Will said, “You were thinking.”
She opened her mouth to reply, but he kissed her before she could. Framing her face with his hands, he delved deep. Her scent was on his fingers, his body was hard between her thighs. She was all skin and sensation.
When he lifted his head, he stared her down with hot, dark eyes. “No thinking. That’s my only rule for you and me.”
“I wasn’t thinking.” How could she when the pleasure he’d given her had turned her upside down and inside out, until there’d only been room in her mind for his touch?
“Then why didn’t you let yourself cry out?”Her answer came before she realized he’d been right. “Your crew.”
“That means you were thinking.”
He swept in for another long, hard, delicious kiss, making sure she couldn’t possibly think anymore. He filled her up, every space, until there was no room for anything but his possessive mouth, his skin soft and rough against her, the electric hum through her body, and the warmth around her heart.
God, he did things to her. Made her feel. Hot and needy, soft and gooey. It was beyond getting physical, beyond his mouth on her, his hands stroking her. Beyond the climaxes.
He made her feel beautiful.
He turned her over, setting her on her hands and knees, and pushed up flush against her. Big and beautiful and dangerously sexy, he made her wild all over again. Wonderfully, perfectly wild, as he gripped her hips with his hands and was inside her before she could even take her next breath.
A moan escaped her as he plunged deep, clear to the very heart of her. Everything spiraled down to the connection between them, his heat, his hardness, his relentless movements. She braced herself on the bed and pushed back on him, meeting each of his thrusts.
He completely surrounded her then, leaning over her, a blanket, lusciously hot and heavy. They strained together, hard breaths, hammering hearts, rushing blood.
And this time, when she shattered, she couldn’t think about anything but him, crying his name as he called out hers, too.
* * *
Will had never been more content as he hauled her closer, her arm splayed across his chest, her hand resting at his shoulder.
She fell asleep against him, and after they woke, he loved her again, head to toe, top to bottom, inside and out. He’d loved her with every inch of his body, touched, kissed, licked, and adored every inch of hers. He knew every scented hollow, each sensitive patch of skin.
But it still wasn’t enough. He ached for more. And they had only thirty-eight hours left. He considered canceling the plant tour and holing up with her in his Knightsbridge flat. But he wanted to show her London. He wanted to give her something she’d never had before—that trip to Europe she’d been saving for but had never been able to take after her parents passed away.
“We’ll be landing in a little over an hour. I ordered the coffee.” They’d never gotten around to the mousse. “Do you want to shower before breakfast?”
She flexed and stretched before cracking one eyelid. “I’d kill for a shower.” She opened both eyes and smiled at him. “Come with me.”
“Can’t resist me?”
The teasing curve of her smile faded. “No. How could I?” She put her hand over his heart and he swore it skipped a beat as she said, “How could anyone resist you, Will?”