She leans forward. “It’s cute you think I’m a rich airhead, but I’m no more an airhead than you are a dumb lumberjack.”
“Fisherman.”
“What?”
“I’m a fisherman, Harlow.”
She licks her lips before growling, “Same. Fucking. Thing. My job might not be very glamorous but I am damn good at it. Best fucking coffee fetcher out there.”
I burst out laughing. “You’re a trip.”
“You’re a hot piece of ass.”
I lean my chair back, balancing on two legs, watching her watching me. She’s hands down the sexiest girl I’ve ever seen. Surprisingly, she may also be the smartest. “Yeah. I know.”
“So what about you? Do you have siblings? Brothers, right?”
I nod, reaching for my glass to take a sip of beer. “Colton and Levi.”
“You guys work together?”
“Yeah, plus my dad. He had a heart attack and a stroke a few years back, so he’s not as hands-on as he used to be, but he’s still always around.”
“What about your mom?”
I shake my head. “Died when I was twelve. Breast cancer.”
Her face seems to literally fall and she lifts her iced tea to her lips, taking a sip with a shaking hand before she manages to say, “Finn. God, I am . . .” She shakes her head, takes a deep breath, and then closes her eyes. “That is heartbreaking.”
What else can I say but, “Yeah. Long time ago.”
She blinks away and for the first time it occurs to me that she looks exhausted. “So what has you looking so beat?” I ask. “A grueling Facebooking session during your day off work?”
I can tell she’s on the verge of saying something smart in response, but her expression softens and she says, “Just looking some stuff up.”
“Next season’s top shoe picks?”
“Something along those lines.” And wow. Harlow is a terrible liar.
But if she’s not sharing, then I suspect I shouldn’t push, anyway. Lord knows I don’t really want to lay my woes on this table, either.
“Come on.”
Looking up at me, she draws her brows together.
I stand, holding out my hand. “Let’s go.”
SO WE’RE DISCOVERING a pattern. We fall into the hallway at Oliver’s again, hands in hair and mouths everywhere. Her body is warm, her skin soft and smelling so fucking good.
Harlow leads this time and steers us down the hall, stumbling blindly in the direction of my bedroom.
“Oliver?” she asks, breaking away just long enough to glance around, and listening to the empty house. Her lips look bitten and her cheeks pink. Her hair has come loose from the bun and some smooth strands fall around her face and shoulders.
“Not home yet,” I say, and pull her back to my mouth. Our feet shuffle along the wood floors and I wonder if I’d have time to fuck her right here, bent over the couch or with her hands pressed to the wall, the sound of her screams ringing through the silent rooms. “Not sure when, though; think you can be quick?” I circle my thumb around her nipple and she groans.
“Mmm, I didn’t come all the way over here to be quick.”
I don’t want to, either. In fact, I’m beginning to wish we’d gone to her place. Someplace we can take our time like we did the other day.
We get to my room and I close the door, flipping the lock behind me.
“On the bed,” I say.
Harlow pulls away with a final kiss and—surprisingly—does what I tell her, making a show of kicking off her shoes and climbing up onto the mattress. I cross the room and stand over her, meeting her gaze as I unfasten my belt.
“Take your clothes off.”
Harlow nods and we each begin to undress: shirts first, her bra, my jeans. She takes hers off slowly, not like she’s putting on a show, but like she’s relishing the way my eyes move over every inch of newly exposed skin and is trying to make the feeling last. Her tits are fucking fabulous, high and full —a generous handful, and I have big hands—with tight pink nipples that make my mouth water. She has to lie back to shimmy out of her skirt and I step over, reaching forward and pulling it down her legs.
“Wonder what you’d look like with these ankles tied up in the air,” I say, bringing her leg to my shoulder and pressing a kiss to her calf. I don’t mean it—not right now, anyway—Oliver could be home any minute, and for something like that I want to tease her, take my time until both of us are absolutely wild. But remembering last time, the suggestion is enough to do the trick, and Harlow’s eyes widen, her breath picking up.
With an arm braced near her head, I reach between our bodies, slipping my finger into her panties.
She gasps and I push in more, adding a second alongside it and moving my thumb in circles over her clit.
“Look how wet you are,” I say. “Just from taking off our clothes. I’ve barely touched you and you’re ready to come all over my hand.”
Harlow huffs out a breath, like she can’t decide if she wants to deny it or not, but still she rocks her hips, taking more of my fingers. I kiss along her ribs and up, taking a nipple between my lips, sucking until she’s wet and slippery. She gasps in a breath as I use my teeth, easy at first and then just a bit sharper.
“More,” she groans, and I move to the other, sucking, biting. I don’t want to hurt her—that’s never what this has been about—but I do want her to feel it later. Those small, lingering aches that catch her off guard. “Finn, more.”
“Roll over,” I say, and grip her hips, helping her to her stomach. Her lace panties are barely a scrap and I reach for them, slipping them down and off her body, leaving her completely, gloriously naked in front of me.
“Fuck. This ass,” I say, squeezing it, not even knowing where to look. I grip her tighter, a little rougher, rubbing my palm over her again and again to prepare her for what’s to come. “Seem to remember I had plans for it.”
Her entire body is tense, practically vibrating, every muscle poised and waiting. I move my hand over her hip and up to her lower back, dragging my short nails along the skin there. She lets out a little sound, and I can hear each of her breaths, how they’re almost even and controlled but still just the slightest bit shaky.
“Has anyone ever spanked you, Ginger Snap?”
She shakes her head against my pillow, loose strands of dark hair following the arch of her back.
“Only you.”
I try not to think too much about the spark of pride I feel when she says this, and attempt to tamp down the curl of possessive heat in my stomach. “You want this?” I ask.
She nods, but it’s not what I need, and I slice my hand upward through the air, landing with a quick smack on her backside, just enough to get her attention.
“Say it, Harlow.”
“Y-yes,” she says. “Yes.”
I do it again, my palm connecting with her skin, a little harder this time.
Harlow gasps, her fist closed tight around the sheets, and she arches her hips, pushing back toward me. Wanting more.
“Didn’t I tell you I’d give you what you need?” I say, and bring my hand down again, on the other side. The sound she makes is louder this time, more desperate. I spank her a few more times, just until her skin is warm and pink, and she moans as I soothe the flushed skin with my palm. I wonder if she’s ever thought about this kind of thing before, had any idea how much she’d like it.
There’s no doubt Harlow Vega gets off on a little manhandling, or that I very much enjoy being the one to do it. There’s just something so hot about the way she lets me. She knows she could take control at any moment, but I’m sensing that she doesn’t want to. I’m sensing that maybe she needs someone else to lead right now.
By the tenth spanking, Harlow is wet down her thighs, and I’m not sure I’ve ever been harder. Her hand has disappeared between her legs, fingers slipping over the slick skin.
“You do like it,” I say. “Feel that.” I lean forward, touch where she’s working herself over. My fingers push in alongside hers and fuck. I need a condom right now.
Straightening, I reach for the box I’d hastily tossed into the dresser drawer. Harlow moves to her back and watches, eyes fixed to where I slide the condom down and over my dick.
I climb over her, lifting her arms above her head, helping her reach for the bed frame. “Keep them here, okay?”
She nods, and I see the way she tightens her grip, knuckles turning white with the effort.
I press the head of my cock against her, moving it back and forth before beginning to push in.
“Think you can be quiet?” I ask, gauging her expression as I continue to move. “Oliver could come home anytime. You need to be quiet. Okay?”
She looks down the length of her body, where my palm slides over her skin, and nods.
I reach for the pillow next to her head and lift her hips to position it just beneath her ass. “That’s right,” I say, pressing deeper and deeper, watching as I disappear entirely inside her.
Her teeth bite into her bottom lip and she moans around it. I shush her gently. “Look so good like this,” I tell her, watching her breasts bounce with each snap of my hips. I place my hand on her sternum to hold her down, and admire the color of my skin against hers, tan and rough against golden softness. A rough engine sounds outside and I recognize Oliver’s car, hear it move up the street and pull into the driveway.
Harlow’s little gasps are still too loud, and so I reach near her hip for her panties, ball them up in my fist, and, after I kiss her on the lips, I stuff them into her mouth.
Her eyes close like she’s grateful, and she moans around it—and it’s enough that I nearly come.
“I said quiet, Ginger Snap.” I spread her legs even more. I tilt her hips in a way that my pelvis doesn’t rub against her clit while I fuck her.
And again, she moans, a deep, desperate sound that makes me fuck into her harder, wanting to make her do it again.
“You definitely like this,” I whisper into her ear. “I bet you think I won’t be able to stop thinking about this later, how wet you’re getting my cock.” I suck along her neck, careful to leave the skin red, but not marked. “Can you tell I like it, too? You nearly made me come before I was good and ready.”
She groans around the fabric and presses her knees to my waist, using the leverage to bring me closer, harder.
“I wonder if you’ll get wetter?” I say. “Should we see if I can make you wetter when you come?”
She nods urgently.
I can hear Oliver outside, laughing and shouting something over to a neighbor. I hitch Harlow’s leg up higher and reach down, smacking her ass again. She cries out, clenching around me. Her skin is flushed, her nipples hard and goose bumps spread along her skin.
“He’ll be inside any second. Do you think you can be quiet? I can make it so good for you if you can.”
She nods and I fuck her harder, my arms shaking, neck corded and tense as I hold myself back. I see the moment it happens: Harlow’s eyes widen before they close again, a tear slipping down her cheek as she struggles not to make a noise.
It’s enough to send me spiraling after her. I lean down, nearly bending her in half with my thrusts —just one more time before I’m coming and have to muffle my sounds against her skin.
When I can move, when my heart doesn’t feel like it might burst out of my chest, I push up, slipping out of her carefully before tying off the condom. I take her in my arms, kissing her fingers, her wrists, the corners of her mouth.
“You did so good.” I press my lips to her shoulder, drag my nose up her neck, and growl in her ear.
“You did so fucking good, sweet girl.”