Harper
The first box I carry into Luke’s room contains socks.
Not clothes or books. Not the framed photo of me and Dad from my police academy graduation that I shoved face down into a drawer this morning because I couldn’t stand to look at it. Just socks.
This is what my life has come to.
I set the box at the foot of Luke’s bed and stare at it. Day three of unemployment. Day three of living at Blackthorn Ranch.
Day one of accidentally moving in with my maybe-kind-of boyfriend.
The door opens behind me.
Luke steps inside carrying two more boxes like they weigh nothing. His gaze drops to the one at my feet, then slides back to me.
His mouth twitches. “Well, sunshine.”
I point at him. “Don’t.”
“I’ve never lived with a woman before.”
Crossing my arms, I shake my head. “We’re not living together.”
“Uh-huh.” He sets the boxes beside the dresser. When he straightens, his face is annoyingly amused. “You’re just storing all your earthly possessions in my room indefinitely.”
Heat climbs my neck. His room—not the guest room Emma offered or the spare bedroom Mason swore no one used in his house past the barn.
Luke’s room.
His bed.
His closet, where half my clothes already hang because he scolded me for trying to live out of a duffel bag.
I scowl at him. “I was emotionally compromised.”
He lifts his brows. “You still are.”
I shrug. “I guess that’s fair.”
The humor fades from his face. In two strides, he’s standing in front of me. His hands settle on my hips, warm and steady. “Hey. You don’t have to justify being here.”
The knot in my chest tightens. I just didn’t imagine that this was the way I’d move in with a man—out of necessity rather than because he wants me. Luke’s been good-natured about it, but I can’t escape that I foisted this on him.
Luke’s thumb brushes beneath my eye before a tear can fall. “Are you sad because you’re stuck with me now?”
A watery laugh escapes me. “It’s the other way around, isn’t it? It’s a terrible deal for you.”
His expression turns serious in a way that always steals my breath. “Harper, the only thing I’d change about you being here is your broken heart.”
Oddly, I believe he means it, and I have no idea what to say.
I don’t need to worry. He glances around the room, taking in the boxes stacked against the wall, and his grin returns. “So.”
I narrow my eyes. “So?”
He reaches into the box at my feet and pulls out a pair of fuzzy pink socks.
“Oh my God.” I try to grab them from him.
His eyebrows shoot up. “You own these voluntarily?”
“Give them back.”
He holds them out of reach. "We need to establish some ground rules if we're living together."
"We're not living together." I jump, trying to reach them.
"Oh, we’re definitely living together." His voice is absolute, leaving no room for argument. He looks pointedly at the boxes, at the overnight bag hanging from the closet door, at my books on the bedside table, and then back at me. "This is happening, sunshine. Might as well make it official."
I snatch the socks from his hand, heat climbing my neck.
His grin widens. "Rule number one."
I whack him with the socks. “I haven’t agreed to any rules."
"Of course you haven’t. That’s what we’re doing now." He steps closer, backing me toward the bed. "Rule number one. You can't wear underwear."
I blink at him, confused. "What?"
"You heard me." His eyes are dark with mischief and heat. "No panties. Not in this room, not in my bed."
"That's—" I sputter, waving my hand, the socks flopping. "That's ridiculous."
"That's the rule." He tilts his head, studying me. "Question is, are you in violation right now?"
My face flames, and I edge backwards. "Luke—"
"Let me check."
Before I can protest, his hands are on my hips, fingers hooking into the waistband of my jeans.
"Stop!" I shriek, batting his hands away. "You are not—"
"I absolutely am." Grinning, he tugs me toward him.
I dodge, but he's faster. His arm snakes around my waist and pulls me against him.
"Luke!" My scream turns into a laugh as I try to twist away.
"This is research," he says solemnly, though his eyes are dancing. "Very important research."
I shove at his chest, but he doesn't budge. Instead, he lifts me off my feet and tosses me onto the bed. I land with a bounce, breathless and giggling. "You're impossible."
"And you're wearing jeans." He crawls over me, caging me in with his arms. "Which makes this investigation more difficult."
"Good." I playfully kick at him.
"Challenging," he corrects, his hands sliding to the button of my jeans. "Not impossible."
Still laughing, I halfheartedly try to push him away. "Don't you dare."
"A rule’s a rule, sunshine, and I'm very motivated."
I buck him off me, rolling him over, but he reverses the hold and lands on top again. I squeal when he catches both my wrists in one hand and pins them above my head, his grin downright wicked.
“Cheater,” I accuse, breathless with laughter.
“Former Army,” he corrects, dipping his head to brush his nose against mine. “We call it superior training.”
I try to knee him in the thigh, but he only laughs harder, his weight settling over me in that careful way that makes my heart stumble.
For the first time in days, everything heavy falls away and it’s just us—me and Luke, tangled up in his bed, alone, like the world outside this room can’t touch us.
His free hand slides down my side, over my hip, and then—
"Oh." The sound escapes me as his fingers slip beneath the waistband of my jeans.
"Well, well. What do we have here?" His voice drops, rough and pleased. His fingers trace the edge of my cotton boy shorts. "Looks like you're breaking the rules already, sunshine. Guess I'll have to do something about that."
"Luke—" My protest dies as his hand slides lower, cupping me through the thin cotton.
"That's it," he murmurs, his eyes locked on mine, his fingers exploring. "Let me feel how wet you are."
He pushes the cotton aside, sliding two fingers through, and we both groan. "Fuck, Harper. You're soaked."
I can't respond—I can barely breathe. His fingers circle my clit with perfect pressure, and I arch into his touch.
"That’s it," he says, his voice sex raspy as he pushes me closer to the edge. "You’re doing so good, letting me make you feel good."
The praise does something to me—makes me clench around nothing, makes me desperate for more. I clutch his shoulders, opening my legs as far as I can.
He slides two fingers inside me despite the tightness of my jeans. His fingers move inside me—slow, deep, relentless. His thumb finds my clit and circles it in time with each thrust.
I'm making sounds I can't control, whimpering and gasping as I grind against his hand.
"Look at you. Taking my fingers so well." He curls them inside me, hitting something that makes my vision blur. He kisses me, nipping my lower lip. "You gonna come for me, sunshine?”
I cry out, my back arching.
Humming, he lowers his head and bites first one nipple then the other through my layers of clothes.
“Luke.” I grip his hair.
He kisses up my neck until he reaches my mouth. “Let me feel you come on my hand," he says against my lips. His blue eyes fill my vision, and his thumb presses down harder on my clit as he keeps my arms immobile. “Now, Harper. Come for me now.”
The orgasm hits hard and fast, out of my control, my body clenching around his fingers as pleasure crashes through me. My head spins, and I cry out over and over as he works me through it, his fingers not stopping until I'm boneless and trembling beneath him.
When he finally withdraws his hand, he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks them clean, his eyes never leaving mine. I gasp and wiggle, needing him to fill me again.
"Delicious.” He grins, licking his thumb. "And for the record? I’m definitely enforcing the no underwear rule."
"You're insane," I manage to say.
"Yeah." He presses a kiss to my temple. "But you love it."
I do. God help me, I do.
I clear the emotions from my throat. “You know the rule would have to apply to you too.”
He lowers his lips to my ear. “Sunshine, I retired my jockeys the second you moved in.”