The Allure of Dean Harper

I couldn’t find the words to respond.

“Oh, Dean, what strong arms you have.”

I smiled.

“Good?” she asked.

“Terrible,” I said, taking her ear lobe between my teeth.

“You’d hate a woman like that,” she said, slipping her hand beneath the waistband of my pants.

I reached for the zipper of her dress and I slowly pulled it down, splitting the lace apart to expose her soft skin. I dipped my hand beneath the fabric and pushed the zipper lower, following the curve of her spine. I kept pulling her dress down and she kept slipping her hand lower. What a maddening game.

“This is the only thing we’re good at,” she said, stroking me.

I couldn’t disagree.

If I didn’t want to kill her, I wanted to possess her. I wanted to seduce her to the brink of madness so that for thirty minutes she could do nothing but moan in my arms, too lost in the moment to hate me.

“Take me to my room,” she begged.

I pushed her dress to the floor and kicked it aside. She gripped my tie in her hand and tugged me forward. We were lost in the darkness, tripping over end tables and couches and lamps. We fell into her room and closed the door behind us. The room was just as dark as the rest of the villa, but we found the bed and fell onto it. Her limbs tangled with mine, but I pushed her higher, up against the pillows. She was soft everywhere, but the skin between her thighs was pure velvet. I stripped her down to nothing and she pulled the tie from my neck, nearly choking me before finally getting it off. I think she enjoyed it, that line between hurting someone and loving them. I think that’s how she felt about me.

“Lay back,” I told her, pushing my hand to her stomach and keeping her flush with the bed.

“I still don’t forgive you for what you did earlier.”

I smirked and bent low, dragging my tongue up the inside of her left knee. “Maybe you’ll find forgiveness after I’m done with you.”

She arched her back, pushing up against my hand.

“Never.”





Chapter Thirty-Three


Dean





Lily stood in the doorway after her shower. She was naked and using one of the oversized hotel towels to dry her legs. I sat on the bed watching her, momentarily sated. We hadn’t said anything for what seemed like hours, but I knew the truce wouldn’t last long.

“You told me to prove it, and I did.”

I frowned, trying to place her words.

“Us,” she said, wrapping the towel around her chest. “It’s just sex.” She smirked. “Dark smoke, but no fire.”

She turned and closed the bathroom door without another word. She’d thrown her knife and it had met its mark; the only thing I could do was leave before she threw another.

I was exhausted, especially after the last few hours, but I couldn’t find a comfortable spot on the sectional. I angled my body one way, then another, then stood and tried a different direction. The couch felt lumpy in places it hadn’t the night before. I stared up at the villa’s ceiling and tried to ignore the dull ache in my gut.

My parents’ words rang back through my mind.

“You think that fast life will sustain you for long?”

“Aren’t you lonely?”

Their questions had always been easy to deflect. I’d moved to New York to become a one-man empire and I’d had no intentions of stopping any time soon. I’d been happy with that life.

One day, I was content, and the next, I was lying on a couch in Vegas with lumps of indecision disrupting my sleep.

I didn’t want this.

I didn’t want change.

I didn’t want to lay awake with a hollow gut and the taste of regret in my mouth. I couldn’t build a one-man empire if I lost focus. I’d pushed away every distraction that had come my way in the last two years, yet somehow Lily had seeped through the cracks, like a poison. I just had to find the antidote.





Chapter Thirty-Four


Lily





Something about Dean kept me coming back for more. It had been wrong to sleep with him the first time and just plain idiotic to agree to round two. Dean had stripped me to the bone on that hotel bed and then he’d left me high and dry. Well technically he’d left after I’d all but pushed him out, but that was the way we were. He pushed, I pushed back. He didn’t want an insipid Barbie. He wanted a challenge, but he kept denying it, so things between us would never change. It was a vicious cycle. I needed an intervention. I needed to cut Dean out of my personal life. Cold turkey.

“Does sitting at a coffee shop across from a cycling studio count as exercise?” Josephine asked as she sat down with her latte.

I blinked away my thoughts and nodded. “The calories transfer. Like osmosis.”

She smirked. “So then we should split that banana nut muffin?”

I didn’t even turn to inspect the case of pastries behind me. I had no appetite. “I’m good. You go ahead.”

R.S. Grey's books