“Want this?” I ask.
She nods against my chest.
“Say, ‘Please, Leo. I want this for my birthday.’” I tease her with the press of one finger against the damp fabric.
“Yes, please, Leo.” Her head’s still down on my chest, and she places both hands on my shirt. Her fingers curl into the fabric.
I move the crotch of her panties aside and stroke the tender flesh. I rest my finger at her entrance and kiss the top of her hair. “Want more?”
She nods and attempts to pull me closer. There’s no way to get closer unless I’m inside her. And even though that’s what I want, I restrain myself. This is a present for her, not me.
I slowly push my finger inside her and she squirms on the edge of the desk. I add a second finger and she gasps.
“Too much?” I say while continuing to pump my fingers in a rhythm.
She lifts her chin and looks at me wild-eyed. Frantically shaking her head as if she’s afraid I’ll abandon her.
I bend and slant my lips against hers. She’s hungry for me. Her tongue thrusts into my mouth immediately. I suck on it and she moans. The sound is edgy, wounded, needy.
I love it.
My free hand moves to the top of her panties. I should’ve ripped these off her by now, but I risk insanity at the thought of her going back into the bar without them.
I continue to pulse inside her opening with one hand and my other dips down into her panties from the top, skims the sensitive flesh it seeks, finds her sweet spot. I rub once with my thumb, and she jolts against me.
Her lips break away from mine, and she stares into my eyes. “What are you doing to me?”
I give her a heated look, not slowing the pace of my busy fingers. “Making the birthday girl blow out the candles.”
She’s not even hearing me, or she’d smile at my cheesy line. My thumb plays back and forth in a quick motion over her clit. Her pleasure builds in sync with my movements. Her head is back enough for me to see the moment she breaks apart and it’s breathtaking. The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, and I don’t want anyone else to see it. Ever.
Her forehead creases at the end and she shakes her head. Her face is unreadable. “What about you?” she asks.
I shrug and feel strangely vulnerable. Thrown off-balance by the intensity of the last few minutes when I only wanted her pleasure. I can’t remember if it’s always been like this when I was with someone else, because her face and scent and body are too close. I can only think about being with her.
She is filling my head. If I tell her how she’s grabbing a hold of me—each day a little more even though I’ve pushed her away—will she disappoint me like Tori did?
Will I ever be able to trust her?
A knock sounds at the door and Harper jumps. I stumble back, embarrassed that I’ve taken what I wanted here in Dane’s office. Even though I’m not the one who got off, the last few minutes were about me and what I want.
I need her to want me—in every way—and the thought scares me shitless.
I’ve behaved like a child. One minute demanding we downgrade to friendship and the next minute proving I’m more desirable than a guy in a stripper getup.
The thought sends an uneasy shaft of fear into my gut. I rub my hand over my face. Her scent mocks me.
There’s another knock on the door. “Hey, somebody in there?” It’s Dane’s voice, and he’s pissed.
“Come on, birthday girl. Time to get back to the party.” I grab her by the waist and place her on her feet. Her confused eyes cause my stomach to bottom out, making me mad at myself. I pull her by the hand toward the door.
Tori’s lies did a number on me. But I’m honestly okay about losing her. Jaded about dating, but really fucking okay.
Betrayal from Harper wouldn’t leave me jaded. She could crush me.
18
Sleight of Hand
Harper
No one uses postcards anymore. No one except for Leo and the random traveler who can’t get a freaking cell signal in Siberia.
This postcard that I’ve stolen back from Leo taunts me. The words on the card have an ugly voice that speaks of my impulsiveness. My hurt. My life that was nothing but a lie for four years.
I grip the pink postcard with two fingers, intending to rip it straight down the center and then into giblets. My fingers are poised at the top between two Rhododendron flowers and above the statement, ‘Finest Beauty of the Evergreen State.’ I allow a tiny tear in the paper. It should be the impetus I need to shred the evidence. Continue until there’s nothing left of my life in Tacoma.
My hands shake and I drop it onto my bed. I need to return it to Leo. Am I crazy? Thinking it’s OK to steal?
I fold the postcard and tuck it into my back pocket. Saturday mornings in our building are noisy. The downstairs bakery bustles with activity and the pan banging and voices are louder than normal. I walk across the hall to Leo’s.
He answers after only one knock. He’s wearing track pants, a T-shirt, and a wary expression. “Morning.”
“Hi. Um…can we talk?”
“I have a few minutes.” His answer is even, not cold or warm. His tone edges on impersonal.
This is not the response I expected. I’m not a door-to-door salesman or something. He stands back to let me enter. “Thank you for the gift. Josie said the ereader was from both of you. That was too generous. I love it.”
“I’m glad.”
“About last night,” I say, wondering if I should sit or stand since he’s made it sound as if he doesn’t have time for a conversation. If only I’d said I’ll come back or this will take more than a few minutes.
“About that,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I got carried away. This thing with being friends will be tricky since we’ve—”
My mouth opens. Not to actually form words because I have no clue what would come out. Last night meant nothing? Because I’d bet my last chocolate bar it was hot and emotional and special. It was certainly not something I practice with my friends.
I shut my gaping mouth. My gullibility is limitless. “We are back to this? The friend thing?”
“Don’t read too much into it. We’re both adults. Just because we had a little fun in Dane’s office—”
I slap him and the pop of my hand against his cheek rings out in the room, seeming to echo. He flinches, but stays standing in the same spot with his impassive face. My heart beats faster, pushing air from my lungs as it tries to fill my chest with its fury. “You are unbelievable. I’ve never felt so used. So degraded.” My throat catches. “So cheap.”
“It got out of control.” He looks away and then back to meet my gaze.
“What? Your pride? Didn’t want some stripper touching me, so you needed to prove something?” My chest rises and falls like I’ve been running.
“It was my fault.”
“Yeah. It was. But you can’t do that to me. Friends don’t behave this way and lovers don’t either. I don’t know what your game is, but I’m not playing. I’m done. You’re vile and I pity the woman who is ever fooled by you.”
Leo’s rubs his fingers along the crease between his eyes. “Come on. You’re upset. We can forget about last night. People make mistakes. I made a mistake.”
I smash my lips together so I won’t cry. At least when Wesley literally screwed me and left for weeks on end to go to his real family, I didn’t know what was going on. It’s my excuse for not doing something at the time. I back away from Leo. “I deserve better treatment than being some toy for when you feel like playing around.”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“Oh wasn’t it? I really am an idiot. I thought yesterday made you see how much you missed us together. That there was actually something real there. But no.”