Page 69 of Tanner

“Most importantly, I’m crazy about you. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the way you kiss me. Or how it feels, being wrapped in your arms, or how amazing it feels when you—”

I don’t get to finish my sentence as Tanner rushes toward me, wrapping his fingers around the nape of my neck and through my hair, and his lips crash onto mine. I drop my bag to the floor, slinging my arms around his neck.

Our kiss is feverish.

Our bodies are on fire.

My hands grip him tighter, pulling him into me. He molds his hardness against me, letting me feel every piece of yearning he has.

Tanner doesn’t kiss with his lips. He kisses with his entire being.

“I saw the painting,” I say when he pulls back, running his lips down my neck.

“I figured,” he says against my skin.

“Does this mean you forgive me?”

“Sweet Harper”—he wraps his hand around my hair, gently pulling it to tilt my face up at him—“don’t leave me again.”

It’s a demand.

“Never,” I sigh as his lips brush against mine.

I think he’s going to ravage me again. Instead, he swoops me into his arms and carries me into his building.

I giggle as he takes the stairs up to his loft. When we get to his studio, he sets me on the island in the kitchen and spreads my legs to stand between them.

“I see you got my book.” I motion toward Chéri that’s sitting next to me. “Is that what made you create the mural?”

He pauses, slightly leaning back as he unbuttons my blouse. “No. It pissed me off actually.”

“Why?”

“That book has a horrible ending. It’s not the ending I wanted for our story. This”—he slides my shirt down my arms, revealing my black lace bra—“is how our romance continues.” He kisses the supple skin above the lace, making me whimper. “Paul is the reason I spent two days on a ledge.”

“Paul?” I chuckle under my breath.

“Yep.” He reaches behind him to remove his T-shirt, pulling it up over his head. “Old man’s got some great advice.”

“Maybe I should thank him. What did he say?”

“Something about pussy. Not to be crass, but I think I might have to devour my own tonight.” He smirks as he lifts me off the island and carries me over to the bed.

As he undoes his pants, I stare at the man in front of me, thinking of nothing, except that he’s a man. A tall, strong, virile man with the sexual appetite of a beast. His pupils dilate, and I reach behind me and remove my bra, letting it fall off the side of the bed.

He slides his pants down his legs, and I shiver with each inch of skin he exposes. With only his boxer briefs on, he lays a knee on the bed and bows down to kiss me. He makes a low, husky sound as he pushes hard into me, his full erection sparking my very sensitive clit to life.

“Do you feel what you do to me?” His mouth travels down to my breasts, taking a nipple and sucking on it hard. “I’ve dreamed about this body, praying that I’d have another chance to watch you come apart in my hands.” His fingers dance down to my clit, rubbing it, making my hips buck off the bed. “My mouth.” He unbuttons my jeans and slides them down my legs. I let out a small scream when his tongue swipes up the sensitive bud. “And my cock.”

His body is back on top of mine, grinding into me until the friction becomes too much to bear.

At the thought of him inside me, feeling needier than I’ve ever been, I undress him with my toes and grab ahold of the steel, letting my finger graze over the engorged head.

I already accepted that I wouldn’t be here again, but now that I am, joy, elation, and pure heaven don’t come close to explaining the way my soul feels at this exact moment.

When he slides inside me, filling me like only a true man can, my entire body goes slack. I lose all control of my arms, my legs, and more importantly, my mind.

Moans I didn’t know could come from me fill the room. Screams of ecstasy that I don’t want to hold back bounce off the walls.