“So…I know we work together. I know it’s a complicated situation. But I won’t pretend that kiss on Friday night didn’t happen. I won’t pretend I’ve stopped thinking about you and won’t pretend I don’t want it to happen again. I’m sorry,” I said,dropping my tone low. “I’m sorry I didn’t text. I’m sorry I made you think I was blowing you off. I’m sorry I?—”
She kissed me.
Put that beautiful mouth right on me. I was surprised, but only because I’d been prepared to grovel more. The shock of it knocked a grunt from my throat before I could catch myself. I cupped her face, cradling her jaw in my palms, and kissed her back like I’d been starving for it, my tongue sweeping into her mouth.
Her lips were soft and she opened for me immediately, her tongue slick and warm as it slid against mine, the friction of it making my knees weak. She moaned, pressing herself up against me. The feel and the sound went straight south.
“I missed you,” I whispered against her mouth. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you. About doing more than kissing you. I really…reallywant to do more than kiss you.”
“Prove it.”
My hands slid down to her waist, gripping her hips. “Prove I missed you? That I haven’t stopped thinking about you?”
“The more than kissing me part. That.”
My brain short-circuited. Blood rushed through my body so fast I felt dizzy.
But I wasn’t about to decline.
I gripped her waist and lifted her onto the table in one smooth motion, stepping between her legs. My hands slid under her skirt, up her thighs. Her skin was so warm, so soft under my palms.
“Like here? In this closet?”
She shrugged, offering a grin with a brief look around the space. “You have a better idea?”
I did not. I kissed her again, slower, deeper, savoring her lips. One hand tangled in her hair while the other worked at thebuttons of her blouse. When I got it open, I let my palm slide inside.
Beneath my fingertips, her bra felt expensive—smooth satin with delicate lace. Through the fabric, I found her nipple already hardening at my touch. I flicked it gently and Harper’s head fell back against the shelf behind her with a soft thud, her breath coming out in a shaky exhale.
“God, Cole…”
I leaned in to kiss the column of her throat, tasting the salt of her skin. “Harper…if we’re singing the same song, this is a bad idea.”
“I know. I don’t care right now.”
“Someone could walk in.”
“You locked the door,” she said.
“Harper—”
“Cole, please.” The words were ragged at the edges, a plea that went straight to my nerve center. “If you don’t fuck me right now in this closet, I’m going to lose my mind.”
Whatever control I had left snapped like a rubber band. My hands moved faster, pulling her blouse open the rest of the way. I bent my head to her breast, taking her nipple into my mouth through the lace, sucking hard enough to make her arch against me.
I reached under her skirt, my fingers tracing up her inner thigh. The heat radiating from her was obscene before I even touched her. When I found the edge of her panties, the fabric was already soaked through. I pressed my thumb against her damp center and felt her pulse against me, her hips rising in response.
“You’re so wet, baby. Is that for me?”
“I’ve been thinking about doing more than kissing you all weekend too.”
A low, primal groan rolled from my lips. I pushed her panties to the side, slipping two fingers through her lips. Her clit was swollen, yearning for attention. I barely brushed a fingertip over her before Harper gasped, then clamped a hand around the back of my neck. Her nails dug into my skin as she pulled my mouth back to hers.
She kissed me as I circled her clit, painfully slow at first, then gradually increasing the pressure.
“More,” she pleaded against my lips. “Please, Cole, I need more.”
I worked her slow, watching her face. Cataloging every reaction— how her breath hitched when I pressed just right, the sultry roll of her hips against my hand when I didn’t give her enough pressure, how she dug her heels into the wall behind me, using the leverage to grind hard against my fingers.
