Harper
The last of Wade’s men stride out of the office, plastic sheeting folded between them. The privacy we demanded feeling more and more like an unnecessary precaution the longer I sit with the information we gathered.
A whole lot of nothing.
All the planning, the secrecy, the bloodshed, just to hammer another nail in my coffin.
The Jester isn’t content to simply use Cirque as a cover.
They want everything I am, wrapped up to use as one big shield.
Smart really, to make sure when the ship goes down, the captain has no choice but to sink with it.
And why would they look elsewhere when everything about me screams guilty.
The shipment receipts, the product designed to mock Cirque, a recent employee getting sent to rehab, the cameras conveniently not picking up anything out of the ordinary…and now my name.
My name.
They are painting a target on my back and I’m running in circles chasing my own tail.
I feel my phone buzz on the desk at my back and open it to see a text from Sadie, no doubt checking on me.
Sadie: Wade is taking me home. The cameras are off.
What? The cameras are off? We’re at war and now she decides security measures are a guideline and not the law? For someone who demanded that I have round the clock security, she had no problem bumming a ride home from my bodyguard.
Not that I’m complaining. As lovely as Wade is, the constant shadow has been suffocating and right now I just need to breathe.
As the first exhale leaves my lips my nose twitches with the scent of burnt sugar. Is something on fire? Great, I guess if Cirque burns to the ground I don’t really have to worry about this anymore. And I can stop bribing the fire department to look the other way during inspections.
I grumble as I leave my office, wishing I didn’t love this place so much to prevent it from burning all my problems away.
After such a disappointing night, I didn’t think anything would be able turn it around. Yet as I follow the burning smell, I see Colton, standing behind the bar quietly cursing out the mini cotton candy machine, willing it to behave. I don’t say anything for a minute, just watch how he moves.
He stayed.
He didn’t just help me clean up the mess. He watched me make it with a smile on his lips.
Those fucking lips.
I silently make my way over to where he fights for a sweet treat, back to me, muscles flexing and relaxing as he shuffles around. That back has taunted me since the first time I saw him working out shirtless, invading my gym time and thoughts.
I place my hands on his back, and his swearing immediately stops. I circle his waist, pressing my forehead against the curve of his spine and soak him in.
“How much of that did you hear?” Colton asks, a hint of embarrassment coating his words as he flips off the power switch.
“Enough to know you’re losing,” I tease. “Do you want help,” I ask as he turns in my hold to face me, shifting my hands up to circle his shoulders, fingertips barely coming high enough to brush against the hair on his neck, even with the added height of five-inch heels.
“I was craving something sweet,” he answers, eyes fixed on my lips.
“I can help with that,” I say, leaning into his body, tilting my head up to brush my lips against his, a whisper of a kiss. He lifts both hands to my hair, threading his fingers through the strands, barely restrained tension radiating off him as he holds me there, speaking against my lips.
“Put me out of my misery,” he begs, trying to hold himself together and fraying at the seams. “Tell me I’m yours. Please, Harper.”
There is no hesitation this time, no excuse I want to make or distance to create between us. He has stripped me of my armor and wrapped me in his arms.
He stayed.
“You’re mine.”
I barely get the words out before Colton’s lips crash into mine, unleashing weeks of pent up want. He presses forward, holding me against the bar with his hips, tilting my head to the side to better claim me. I let out a whimper as his tongue moves against my own in languid strokes.
“Fuck, if you keep making noises like that Sunshine, we aren’t going to make it very far,” he sighs against my lips, moving to trail open mouthed kisses against my jaw and down my neck.
He moves his hands down my body, teasing and caressing over the corseted top as he nuzzles against my neck. His fingers tease over the slits separating the panels of silk that part against my outer thighs, playing with the fabric and my patience.
He shifts his body down, large palms covering the globes of my ass before he stands back to full height, casually pulling me up with him. My legs instinctively wrap around his waist as he walks us out from behind the bar, kissing every inch of my exposed skin as we move.
Colton weaves through the first few tables, holding me tight against him, steps confident and sure until I lean up to nip at his ear, my fingers tightening in his hair.
He growls, the rumble deep in his chest that vibrates against my body.
He doesn’t make it to my office, he barely makes it two more steps before sliding me down his front and dropping my ass onto one of the audience tables.
I’ve barely caught my breath before he drops to his knees, flicking the sheets of silk away from my body like they offend him. I lay one hand flat against the table behind me, keeping me upright as the other threads through his hair, guiding him where I’m desperate for attention.
He refuses to be rushed, licking, kissing and biting his way up my thigh before he gets to the barely-there lace covering of the body suit. He pauses, taking in the expensive and delicate material before whispering, “You can replace it,” the sound of fabric tearing cleaves the silence.
Colton’s tongue licks one smooth stroke across my center and he hums, finally getting the taste of what he’s been craving.
“I knew you would be fucking sweet for me, dripping down your thighs like my new favorite treat. Fuck the cotton candy.”
My God, his words. He paints my skin with praise, each word sending a shiver down my body, wanting his filthy praise as badly as I want his cock.
I open my mouth to beg him for more when he plunges one finger inside me, tongue lashing my clit with a steady rhythm. A long moan is the only sound I can conjure as my body melts against the onslaught, hand giving out as I lay my back flat against the table.
“Ohh fuck, fuck,” I chant to the ceiling, opening my legs wider as he joins a second finger with the first, pumping into me harder.
He makes a small shift with his hand, curling his fingers up, and the sensation makes my back arch and thighs tighten around his head.
My whole body is vibrating with pleasure, pulling tighter and tighter, ready to snap.
“I’m going to come,” I pant, “Please Colton, I— ” The words turn into a cry as his fingers pull from me, his tongue disappearing.
My head whips up, pushing myself up so I can see what tragedy struck to have stopped him when I was so close. No gun pressed to his temple, no meteor crashing to earth, just Colton standing at his full height once again to look down at my glistening core with a predatory smile.
Staying between my spread thighs, he runs a single finger through my slit up to my clit, my body ready to break apart at the smallest touch.
He’s toying with me.
I snake a hand down to press the pads of my fingers against my swollen clit, my release clinging to the cliff I was ready to fall over.
I don’t get farther than the barest brush of my fingers before his hand presses firmly against my own, dragging it away from my body.
He pulls my hand to his mouth, licking my fingers to savor the wetness I stole before bringing his mouth to mine.
“Mine,” he purrs against my lips, drawing my bottom lip between his teeth in a quick nip.
I need more. I need him. Now.
I lean into the kiss, hands caressing his shoulders, gently pushing his suspenders down until they fall away.
I fumble between us, undoing his pants and pushing them over his bite-able ass until they pool at his feet.
I palm his length over his briefs, giving a gentle squeeze as he hisses between his teeth.
He breaks the kiss to look down at where my hand is pressed against him, his breathing coming in shallow pants. I trail the line of his waistband with a sharp nail, slipping my hand inside to wrap around his base. His eyes close as I stroke him once, twice.
I’ve seen him through the steam of a shower, felt him pressed against my ass, but somehow the feel of him in my hand makes my eyes widen and glance down. His large hands didn’t do his size justice, my grip feeling insignificant against him as I imagine the wobble in my step tomorrow.
I wrap my legs around his waist, digging the heels of my feet into his ass, trying to get him closer, desperate for the soreness he’ll leave. He huffs out a laugh, tipping my chin up to meet his eyes, “You made me wait, Sunshine, now I want to take my time. Lay back, let me play.”
I whine, leaning back slowly, forcing his hand to drag from my jaw down the front of my bust, palm spread wide as it caresses its way down.
I’m still making the slow descent when he leaves my parted legs, stepping out of his discarded clothes to circle to where my head now hangs off the opposite corner of the table.
His thumb brushes against my bottom lip, slow and intense.
The frantic clawing at each other replaced with sensual touches and ravenous need.
“Open,” he commands, the word dancing over my skin, leaving gooseflesh in its wake. I’ve always fought to hold on to control, but this doesn’t feel like a loss. I want to give myself over to him, to feel what he can do to me. It doesn’t feel like submitting—it feels like trust.
I open my mouth slowly, and Colton runs his hand up and down his length before bringing the tip to run along my lips and against my tongue. The position causes my hands to instinctively hold onto his thighs.
“Tap my leg twice if it’s too much,” he says, cupping the back of my head where it hangs slightly off the table. I nod as I flick my tongue over his slit, licking up the pearled drop of precum at the tip.
“Sunshine, give me your words. Tap my leg twice if it’s too much, do you understand?” he repeats, body thrumming in restraint.
“Yes,” I pant, wanting nothing more than for him to keep playing.
The word is barely out of my mouth before its filled with his hard cock. He pushes in and out in a few shallow thrusts, letting me get used to swallowing him upside down. He strokes my cheek with his thumb as he moves, feeding me a little more than before, my jaw stretched wide to take him in.
“You’re doing so good baby, halfway now, you can take it,” he praises. Only half?! Oh God. My pussy is throbbing, desperate for attention as I rub my thighs together.
His hand circles my throat, slowing his pace to feel his cock bulge against his own hand as I relax my jaw to take him deeper.
He groans, releasing my throat to lean forward, pushing my legs apart and spitting on my bared pussy.
The movement shoves his cock farther down my throat, making me gag and splutter around him before he pulls back completely, leaving my mouth empty and my pussy soaked.
He strokes his cock above my face, staring down at me, looking for any signs I want him to stop.
“I didn’t tap your thigh,” I whimper, gripping his legs tightly, pulling him back over me. “Fuck my face like you mean it.”