Harlow
I wake to a low masculine growl that sounds like satisfaction and contentment all in one. Wade pulls me into his body, his breath warm and soft against my shoulder when everything else about him is spectacularly hard.
“You awake, Good Girl?”
“I am.” I smile, turning over in his arms so we’re facing one another. It’s morning and our one night is done. Still, I’m not quite ready to give up the connection and intimacy, and I snuggle closer. “We’re late for our run.”
Wade rolls his head back and forth against his pillow in what I’m taking to mean no. “Not leaving this bed until you kick me out.”
“That so?” Trailing my fingers over his shoulders and chest, I soak in the feel of him. A few more minutes won’t hurt anyone.
He catches my hand with his and holds it against his heart. It’s such a tender move. So sweet. So Wade. And for a minute I imagine being able to wake up like this together each morning.
It would never work, but it’s a nice thought. The kind vacations are made of.
“You okay about last night?” he asks, eyes holding steady with mine.
So much more than okay. “Last night was amazing. I usually don’t…” I can’t believe I’m considering even telling him this, but as evidenced by my actions last night, I trust him with things I’d never trust anyone else with. “Okay, I’ve never actually—when I’m alone I have, but even then—”
In my mind, it was so much easier to say the words. But trying to voice them, I can feel the heat burning through my cheeks.
Oh my God, why did I think I could tell him?
I start to turn away, but he catches my shoulder and gently guides me back so he’s leaning above me, those gorgeous blue eyes peering down into mine.
“Are you saying I’m the first guy who’s ever made you come?”
“I’ve only been with a few men, and no one serious. But it’s never been like that.” Never like my next breath depended on having just that much more of him. With the others, it had been more about waiting it out for them to finish.
Wade slowly shakes his head.
“Good Girl, what kind of guys are you dating?”
The wrong kind. “The kind who are probably more interested in my father than they are in me.” Another admission I can’t believe I’m making.
“Wait, what? Why?” Then, “I’m starting to think I’m failing at this fake boyfriend thing… Who’s your dad, anyway?”
And that, right there, is what makes Wade so perfect for this break out of time.
“He’s got some clout in the financial world. A lot of connections. And to be honest, most of the men I’ve dated swim in the same circles.”
He nods, seeming to process this information. Then he squints. “You keep telling me I’m not your type. You don’t dig jocks. And yet, not one of these suits who supposedly are your type has gotten you—”
My hand covers his mouth, holding back those last words as I shush him with a laugh. “Okay, fine. I would like to amend my previous statement. It’s possible that I might be marginally attracted to men like you.”
Wade’s brow rises and he shifts over me, sliding his knee between mine.
“Marginally?” His eyes drop to my mouth as he brings his thigh against me. “And for a minute there, I thought my ego had a chance. But you’re just downright trying to kill the poor guy, aren’t you?”
My answering laugh is breathless and a bit broken. And then my hands are on his chest, sliding up over his shoulders and neck, my fingers sifting their way back into his hair.
This isn’t the plan.
I was going for a swift exit, intending to make the transition back to friendly and fake as easy as possible.
I could stop this. All it would take is one word. Probably less than that if I meant it… But the hard-muscled friction he’s giving me feels so good.
“I thought last night was a one-time thing?”
He lowers his mouth to my ear, catching the lobe between his teeth for a gentle tug. “Last night was a three-time thing if I’m remembering correctly.” He shifts lower, his tongue working over the tender skin beneath. “But maybe you need one more?”
I bow into his touch, leaning into that sensual space Wade carved out for me.
His lips ghost over mine, barely making contact. “Or I can stop if you want.”
He pulls back, showing me the hunger in his eyes, the taunting gleam that says he knows I want him as much as he wants me.
“Say it, Good Girl.”
My knees slide up to his hips, my heels pressing at the backs of his thighs. “Don’t stop.”
Wade
I don’t stop. Not until I’ve made up for a few of the shortcomings from Harlow’s dating past. Knowing that not one of those worthless dickheads was able to satisfy her is the mouth-to-mouth resuscitation my ego has been waiting for. But damn, I hate that that’s how it’s been for her.
So yeah, I make it last. I make it good.
I even make her beg just a little on this last one. But judging by how hard she comes around me and the following assault of kisses raining over my face, neck, and shoulders, I’m gonna go out on a limb and say she doesn’t mind.
Thing is, it’s just sex. Pretty spectacular sex, yeah, but as much as I’m hoping Harlow has had a miraculous change of heart on the “just” subject… I’m not banking on it.
Turning on my side, I trace light patterns around the flat of her belly.
“So was that just these four times… or do we want to go with six?”
She laughs, and it’s this breathless sated sound so sweet I’m pretty sure I’ll do anything to hear it again.
“What? I don’t know how you’re counting.”
“For real? You’re counting?” she asks, eyes soft, lips kiss-swollen and tipped up at one side.
My chin pulls back. “You’re not? How do you grade if you aren’t keeping score?”
Lifting her hand a couple inches, she gives it a limp wave. “You blew the curve.”
That’s right, I did. But this is Harlow. “Good Girl, are you seriously telling me that you’d accept that generic result? That you wouldn’t demand accuracy in reporting?”
She bites her lip, that hot-as-hell light firing up in her eyes. “You’re right. I would.”
So sexy.
I growl, reaching for her again, but she flees the bed with a shriek, pulling half the covers with her. “Fine, it was a six-time thing. Six. But there’s no seven. This was it, okay, Wade?”
I flash a wink. “Got it.”