Chapter 10
TEN
HARLOW
“Do you think I should check on him?” I ask, my heart thundering in my chest as I watch Sterling stride across the room, a trail of blood dripping from his hand onto the pristine marble floor.
Drix, the man who I was introduced to a few minutes ago, follows him, a worried expression on his face. Apparently they’re friends, and have known each other for years, so I’m glad he has someone looking out for him. Even still, I caused this. I should be the one checking on him, to make things better.
Better ?
How on earth can I make this situation better? Our parents have just got married for crying out loud, and despite the way my pulse spiked the second I laid eyes on him, how my skin heated with the intensity of his stare, despite the way I was thrown back to that wonderful night we spent together, nothing can happen between us again. It just can’t .
“Leave him, he clearly doesn’t have any respect for me or your mother given the disgusting way he’s just behaved,” Robert says, anger blazing across his face as my mother continues to blink away her shock.
“I think he was just caught off guard,” I mumble, trying to appease Robert, and calm my own frayed nerves. The truth is, I should’ve reached out to him the second I realised who he was. It was cowardly of me.
“His behaviour is inexcusable, Harlow. I warned you he was difficult,” Robert continues, shaking his head. “I should never have allowed him to attend our wedding.”
Guilt climbs up my throat. None of this is Sterling’s fault.
I was the one who left him with just a note to say goodbye. I was the one who was too terrified to reach out last night when I found out who he was. God, the shock on his face when he heard me singing, and the way he seemed to fall into his father was hard enough to witness, but to see him struggle to hold back his very warranted anger just now, that was painful.
I did this, it’s all my fault.
“Oh, darling, don’t blame yourself,” my mother interjects, patting Robert’s arm. “I’m sure once he’s gotten used to the idea, things will be better, yes?”
Robert scowls, his response cut off by a couple approaching us.
“Robert, Melody, what a beautiful ceremony,” the man says, holding his hand out for Robert to shake.
“Thank you, John. I heard you had a delayed flight. I’m glad that you and Elodie were able to make it to our wedding on time,” Robert replies, greeting John’s wife with a kiss to her cheek. “You look stunning as always, Elodie.”
“Thank you, Robert,” she replies softly.
My mother stiffens, jealousy flaring in her eyes momentarily before she covers it up with a smile, her ability to hide her true emotions, a sign of how good an actress she is. I can see why she might feel threatened. Elodie’s a gorgeous woman, with long, curly brown hair, deep blue eyes and an incredible, hourglass figure, but more noticeably, many decades younger than her somewhat stout husband. Not that I’m judging either of them in any way–though I’m sure my mother is–just making an observation. I know from the guest list, and my mother’s tendency to boast about the very rich and influential friends of Robert’s, that John is a member of the British parliament, a role that’s similar to the US members of Congress.
“Your security team made sure we got here in good time. I hear we have you to thank for that,” he says, turning his attention to me as he holds out his hand to shake. “Harlow, isn’t it?”
“Yes, and it was no trouble,” I reply, taking his proffered hand.
He grips my fingers, his thumb rubbing against the back of my hand, making my skin prickle with warning. I don’t like the way he’s looking at me, nor do I like the fact that as I try to pull my hand away, his grip just tightens.
“I was very impressed with your singing ability. Quite the voice you have,” he states, his black gaze uncomfortably penetrating as he leans in and presses a lingering kiss against my cheek.
“Thank you,” I reply, pulling my hand back with a sharp tug, and stepping back, heat rising up my chest as I flick my gaze to his wife.
Her eyes widen a little, and she gives me a look that tells me she’s as uncomfortable by her husband’s behaviour as I am.
“It was nice to meet you both,” I say quickly, “But I hope you don’t mind, I just need to ensure everything is running as planned. We should be entering the dining suite shortly, and I want to see whether the staff are ready for us.”
“Of course, perhaps we can talk more later?” John offers.
“Perhaps,” I reply.
Hell no , I think, as I turn on my heel and head towards the door Sterling left through just minutes before, needing to apologise, to try and fix things somehow.
“Is there anything I can do?”
Drix’s deep baritone voice makes my feet still as I exit the room, the door clicking shut behind me. He’s standing with Sterling in an alcove halfway down the corridor.
“You have your own problems to deal with. I’m not adding to them, Drix,” Sterling replies, tightening a piece of material around his hand, spots of crimson seeping through the white.
“You’re my friend. Your problem is my problem,” Drix counters.
So that’s what I am, a problem ?
I guess I deserve that.
Swallowing my nerves, I walk towards them both, the sound of my heels clicking against the marble floor informing them of my presence.
“Could I have a moment with Sterling, please?” I ask as Drix flicks me a look, before glancing at Sterling who nods.
“Sure,” Drix replies, giving Sterling’s shoulder a squeeze before saying, “Talk later?”
“Later,” he agrees.
“You’ve organised a beautiful wedding,” Drix says politely, giving me a warm smile.
“Thank you.”
“See you then,” Drix adds with one final glance at Sterling, before striding down the hall.
As soon as I hear the door shut behind him, I blow out a breath and reach for Sterling, resting my hand on his arm. “Sterling, I’m so sorry,” I begin. “This is… I think we should talk.”
He shakes his head, barely able to look at me as he grinds out, “Not here. Not now.”
“Please, Sterling, I need to explain a few things,” I respond, not wanting to put this conversation off any longer. It’ll only be harder if we do. He stares at me, his eyes glistening with a mix of emotions that I feel only too keenly myself.
“We’ll go to Dalton’s office.”
“Dalton’s office?” I question, quickening my pace as I try to keep up with him.
“Dalton manages this hotel for his father, Carl. His office is this way. I’m surprised he didn’t tell you that already given you seemed very interested in everything he had to say when you were talking with him a moment ago,” he bites out, and the implication is clear. He thinks I was flirting with him.
“It wasn’t like that,” I respond, confused and a little hurt to be honest.
“Sure it wasn’t.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I reply, my steps halting, hating that he thinks so little of me, but what did I expect? Of course he’d assume that I’m able to move on so easily, that I’m not as affected by this whole situation as he so obviously is.
“Exactly what you think it does,” he snaps.
“Sterling, he’s a guest at my mother’s wedding. We were just getting to know each other.”
“And does he know that you’re also a damn liar?” he bites back, turning to face me, his chest heaving, his eyes flashing with anger, and undeniable pain.
“I never meant to–”
“What, hide who you really were? Sleep with me? Leave me a note to wake up to after we fucked? What did you never mean to do, Friday ?” he hisses.
“I–” My response is cut off as a member of hotel staff walks towards us.
Noticing them, Sterling grabs my wrist and tugs me along the corridor, pushing open a door a bit further along and dragging me in behind him. The second we’re inside what I’m assuming is Dalton’s office, he slams the door, dropping my wrist as though burnt.
“You lied to me. You lied to me about who you were. You gave me a false number. You fucking left without saying goodbye. You fucking used me. I’ve spent months trying to find you, so you can imagine my surprise when you turn up here at my dad’s wedding, Friday !” he shouts, pacing back and forth.
He spent months trying to find me? Oh God. A flood of guilt swarms in my stomach, but more than that, a dangerous kind of warmth that I cannot entertain.
“It’s Harlow,” I reply, tears pricking my eyes. “And she’s my mom, Sterling. This is our parents’ wedding, I have to be here.”
“Don’t you think I know that?!” he explodes, raking a hand through his hair, breathing heavily as he tries to control his anger. He’s so beautiful, so hurt, and guilt makes those threatening tears tremble on my lashes.
I don’t blame him for it, because he’s right in a lot of ways. I should never have hidden who I was. I should’ve been honest, and even though I started out just wanting a night of mindless sex, I didn’t use him, I just didn’t want my mother to ruin the beautiful connection we shared, because she would’ve found a way to do that if I’d welcomed him into my life. Now there’s no chance of anything further developing between us.
“I didn’t use you,” I say, a little helplessly, blinking the tears back.
“What do you call sleeping with me and then disappearing, huh?” he persists.
“It’s difficult to explain,” I mutter.
“ Try .”
“My mother…”
“What about her?”
“She’s famous,” I say, wincing at how ridiculous I sound.
“What the hell has that got to do with anything?”
“It has made her self-absorbed. Selfish. Controlling in a lot of ways,” I admit, glancing up at him.
Sterling frowns, folding his arms across his chest. “Go on.”
“That night we met, Robert was visiting. It was the early days of their relationship, and she wanted me out of the way. I called a friend of a friend and he got me the gig at Smokey Joe’s . Like I told you that night, singing is an escape for me. I wanted to be someone else for a while. Not Harlow, the daughter of my famous mother, a woman who has spent the last seven years being her personal assistant and putting her own needs and wants aside. As much as it is embarrassing for me to admit, I’ve barely lived my own life, and on the occasions I’ve tried, my mother has always found a way to ruin whatever plans I’ve made,” I explain.
“What do you mean she ruins your plans to live your own life?” Sterling asks, a muscle feathering in his jaw as he stares at me.
I press my eyes shut briefly, willing myself not to cry. It’s humiliating enough to admit that I’m still very much under the control of my mother, let alone that I’m not strong enough to walk away.
“Harlow,” Sterling insists, not letting this go.
“We have a complicated relationship,” I continue shakily, “And if I’m honest with myself it’s unhealthy. My mother doesn’t want to see me happy with anyone because I think she believes deep down that I would abandon her. So in the past whenever I’ve gotten close to someone, friend or lover, she’s found a way to ruin my relationship with them. And the worst part is that I’ve let her because in really twisted, fucked up way it makes me feel loved by her when most of the time I just feel like her employee,” I heave out a breath, not feeling any lighter despite sharing the truth. “On occasions, to escape our messed up relationship, I become Friday Love, just like I did the night we met. My mother has no idea.”
“I still don’t understand why that would make you lie to me. I thought we had a connection, but it was just sex for you, wasn’t it? Like you said, a chance to escape.”
“Yes and no,” I admit.
“Which was it, Harlow?”
“I guess in the beginning it was about sex. You were so…” I heave out a breath. “So different from other men I’d met before, intense, interesting, but more than that, apparently interested in me , and I wanted to throw caution to the wind, to just do something I wanted to do for once. I admit that I wanted to feel a man’s hands on me knowing that I was the object of his desire.”
“I see.”
“But please believe me when I say that I felt that connection too,” I pause, chewing on my lip. “I felt it, Sterling.”
He folds his arms across his chest, closing himself off from me, and the way the material of his suit jacket stretches around his arm muscles makes my throat dry. Jesus, why does he have to be so handsome? Why does my body tingle every time he lays his eyes on me? Why does the man I’ve thought about ever since we met have to be my step-brother?
“Despite what I felt,” I continue, forcing strength into my spine, holding myself rigid so I don’t throw myself into his arms. “I knew that any kind of relationship with you would be impossible. My mother would go out of her way to ruin it like she’s ruined every other relationship I’ve tried to form. I wanted to remember that night fondly, and not taint it in any way.”
“So you kept your identity a secret because you knew our parents were together, is that it? You slept with me knowing my father was pursuing your mum. That’s fucked up, Harlow.”
“No! I didn’t know you were his son then, Sterling. You never told me your last name, remember?” I reply, shaking my head. “I didn’t find out who you were until last night. I left you a note that night we met not because I knew you were Robert’s son, but for all the reasons I’ve just explained.”
He blanches. “You really didn’t know?”
“Once things began to get serious between my mother and Robert I found out he had a son after my mother mentioned it, but whenever I brought you up, Robert shut the conversations down. He implied you were–”
“Let me guess, difficult ?” Sterling interjects, with a shake of his head.
“Yes, and I assumed you were estranged. I didn’t push the subject. I wish I had now, truly. As the weeks wore on, all my time was taken up organising this wedding, not to mention…” My voice trails off, he doesn’t need to know about the messages I’ve been receiving.
“Not to mention?”
“Nothing, I’ve just had a lot going on,” I say, clearing my throat. “Anyway, last night I was on the phone to your father, he explained that you wanted to be his Best Man after all. That you were, in fact, coming to the wedding, and have been in Princetown for weeks now. I asked him your name and he gave it to me. I thought it was just a coincidence. What were the chances that Robert’s son had the same name as the man I’d slept with? So I looked you up on the internet, and found a photo of you.”
“Fuck,” Sterling exclaims, all the fight leaving his body as his shoulders slump, and he drops his arse onto the desk behind him. I can’t help but notice how his fingers curl around the edge of the desk, how his knuckles turn bone-white from gripping so hard.
“I should’ve reached out to you the second I found out,” I say, blinking back another sudden sting of tears forming in my eyes.
“Then why didn’t you?”
“Because I’m a coward,” I whisper, dropping my gaze.
He makes a noise in his throat, and I force myself to look up at him again. “Sterling, I wish…”
“If your relationship with your mother was different, and you didn’t have to fear that she would try and ruin something between us, would you have stayed until morning? Would you have wanted to explore something with me?” he asks, pushing up from the table and taking a couple of steps towards me.
“It doesn’t matter now,” I say, shaking my head, glancing away so as not to see the hunger in his gaze, worse still, the hope .
“It matters to me, Harlow,” he counters, reaching for me.
I back up again, my back hitting the door as his warm hand cups my arm sending tremors throughout my body. “Don’t.”
“I have thought about you every second of every day. Every night since we met, I searched for you in all the nightclubs and bars across New York City.”
“Please, Sterling. Don’t make this any harder than it already is. This is our parents’ wedding day,” I whisper.
“I don’t give a fuck about them. I care about us .”
“There is no us. There can’t ever be an us. You have to know that,” I plead.
“I know that I can’t look at you without wanting to kiss you. I know that it’s been fucking torture these past few months not knowing if I’d ever see you again. I know that when I heard you singing just now, despite my anger and shock, all I wanted was to yell that I’d finally found you,” he says vehemently, his hand reaching up to cup my face as he steps closer, the heat of his body penetrating mine.
“How can we be together now? It’s an impossibility.”
“Nothing is impossible when it comes to us.”
“Please don’t do this,” I beg as his fingers slide across my cheek and dig into my hair.
“You have plagued my thoughts, Harlow. That night meant something to me. You mean something to me.”
“We barely know each other,” I counter, pressing my hands against his chest in an attempt to keep some distance between us. His heart thunders beneath my palms, matching the frantic beat of my own.
“And now we have the chance to do exactly that.”
“But we’re family now,” I protest.
“By marriage only,” he insists, but I hear the note of desperation in his voice, as though he’s trying to convince himself that it doesn’t matter, as much as he’s trying to convince me.
“We can’t,” I whimper, but he leans in, his nose brushing mine gently.
“Tell me you don’t want this,” he whispers roughly. “Tell me you’re not as affected by me as I’m affected by you. Tell me right now, and I will walk away. Tell me, Harlow.”
But I don’t. I can’t.
Closing the last few inches between us, he presses the length of his body against mine, and I can feel the swell of his cock hardening against my stomach. I let out another whimper, every part of me wanting to fall into his arms, to kiss him, to explore this undeniable attraction, this fierce lust, this violent connection that has snapped back to life in his presence.
He brushes his lips against mine, so softly, so reverently, that my fingers curl into his shirt, holding on instead of pushing him away. “This is wrong.”
“It doesn’t feel wrong to me,” he replies, pressing a kiss against the corner of my mouth. “Fuck, Harlow, can’t you feel that?”
And I do feel it, my body reacting before my mind can even catch up as Sterling’s tongue pushes past my lips and sweeps into my mouth in a desperate, toe-curling kiss.
And that’s all it takes.
We fall into each other.
Teeth clashing, fingers grasping, chests heaving.
It’s as though the last few months apart were just an insignificant moment in time, as though we’re not at our parents wedding, and aren’t two people very recently bound together by their marriage. I’m vaguely aware of the desperate moans emanating from my chest as his hand grips my hip and he rocks against me.
“Goddamn it, Harlow, why ?” he groans, briefly breaking our kiss as we both try to gather ourselves, but it’s no use, I don’t want to stop anymore than he does, and he smashes his lips against mine once more.
I know what he’s asking, why have our parents fallen in love? Why can something that feels so good be an impossibility?
We’re family now.
This shouldn’t be happening.
“This is wrong,” I repeat helplessly.
Yet that doesn’t stop us. It doesn’t stop Sterling from reaching for the hem of my dress, from dragging his fingers up my thigh, from coasting his fingers over my panties as I part my legs and allow him access.
It doesn’t stop him from saying, “You’re drenched, Harlow. How can this be wrong when your body knows it’s right?”
His words penetrate the fog of lust, only making me want him more, and despite my weak attempt of putting a stop to this, it doesn’t prevent me from rocking against his hand, already so close to coming, so tightly bound and needy that I gasp and whimper into his mouth as he slips his finger past the material of my panties and pushes deep inside of me, into my soaked core.
Oh God.
We shouldn’t be doing this.
But no matter how much my conscience tries to convince me to push him away, to stop this, I can’t. I don’t. Instead I ride his fingers as he kisses me roughly, meeting his passion with my own. He pumps his finger inside of me, adding another, stretching me as my body welcomes him.
“Please,” I whimper, desperate for the pinnacle, a moment of utter bliss as I grind against his hand unashamedly.
In response Sterling bites my bottom lip, the sharp sting making me gasp as he drops to his knees and shoves up the material of my skirt, bunching it in one fist while he reaches for the thin strap of my g-string.
“Y-you bit me,” I reply in shock, but unexpectedly turned on.
My chest heaves at the feral look in his eyes as I raise a shaky hand to my mouth. I didn’t know he could be so possessive, and even though I shouldn’t, I like it. I like that he wants me, that he was so hurt by what I did that he shows me that.
“That was for walking out on me, to make you feel just a fraction of the pain I’ve felt ever since you left,” he says, before ripping at the elastic of my panties, the sting from the action making me gasp. “But this is for walking back into my life,” he adds, then buries his head between my parted thighs and sucks my clit into his mouth, roughly, possessively, still pumping his fingers inside of me.
I can’t stop falling into this moment, as I arch my back giving him more access.
I can’t stop rocking against his face, or gripping his hair as he laves his tongue against my clit.
I can’t stop the intense heat building deep inside of me as my mind falls blissfully blank.
And I certainly can’t stop as a powerful orgasm rips outwards from my core, forcing a startled scream to erupt from my lips.
It fires through me, making me jerk and shake as I fall forward, my body curling over Sterling, my palms slapping against his broad shoulders. I’m so caught up in the moment that I don’t immediately notice the door handle rattling.
“Sterling, are you in there?” a muffled voice asks, the handle rattling in earnest now as the person behind it tries to open the door.
Startled, I push upright as Sterling stands, stumbling a little as his face flushes and he swipes a hand across his mouth, erasing my cum glistening on his face.
“Fuck, it’s Dalton.”
“Do you think he heard us?” I ask, pushing away from the door on shaky legs as my skirt drifts back over my knees, and my torn panties slip down my leg and puddle over my foot.
Sterling ducks, snatching my panties up as I step out of them. He pockets them, but not before he presses them against his nose and breathes in deep.
“Did you just–?”
“Fuck, yes I did,” he responds, his voice gravelly, potent with lust, only serving to remind me of the time when he ran his nose through my pussy all those months ago.
“What about Dalton?” I ask shakily.
I’m terrified now, of how I feel, at what we’ve just done, but more than that, how much I wish we could continue. I shake my head, trying to force myself to think straight.
“He won’t say anything,” Sterling replies.
“But–”
“Trust me, okay?” he adds, before blowing out a rough breath to regain some composure. “I need to let him in.”
“Okay.” I nod, pressing my palms against my skirt, trying to flatten out the creases as he unlocks the door.
“Come in,” Sterling says, briefly coasting his fingers over my hip as I move aside.
Dalton enters, his brows lifting as he takes in our appearance and we both try, and evidently fail, to hide what’s just occurred between us.
“Your parents are looking for you both,” he says, eyeing us with barely veiled amusement.
“We were just talking,” I mumble.
Dalton’s gaze falls to Sterling’s crotch and the very noticeable erection forming a tent of his trousers. Sterling doesn’t even try to hide it, he just glares at his friend in challenge.
“Of course you were,” Dalton smirks.
“Don’t start with me today, Dalton,” Sterling grinds out. “You are in no position to judge.”
“My lips are sealed,” he replies, holding his hands up in mock surrender.
“Oh God,” I murmur.
“Though I should warn you,” he continues, looking pointedly at us both, “Everyone’s about to sit down to eat. If you don’t show your faces soon, people will start to talk.”
“I should go,” I say, my heart pounding as I step towards the door and avoid Dalton’s gaze.
“You might want to clean up first,” Dalton says, resting his hand briefly against my arm as his gaze falls to my neck.
“Clean up what?” I murmur, reaching up to press my fingers against the spot he’s staring at. When I pull my fingers away, there’s blood. I glance at Sterling’s hand and the blood seeping through the material he’d wrapped around it. “Shit.”
“Let me deal with that,” Sterling says, his eyes flickering with an intense kind of heat as he steps towards me.
“I can manage,” I whisper, as he grasps my hand and shakes his head.
“It’s my blood. Let me deal with it,” he insists, his voice hoarse as he lifts my fingers to his mouth and draws them between his lips, sucking his blood from my skin.
I gasp as desire licks down my spine in a dangerous caress.
“Fuuuuccckkk, Sterling,” Dalton mutters, and my gaze ping-pongs from Sterling to Dalton and back again. “That was actually kind of hot.”
“Shut the fuck up, Dalton,” he grinds out, his eyes still fixed on mine.
Heat blazes between us, and I honestly don’t know what to say. I’m not even sure I could find the right words. I feel so tongue-tied. He just licked his blood from my fingers, and I am… turned on .
“You should let me go,” I whisper, my chest heaving as Sterling licks his lips, stepping closer as he releases my hand.
“I’m not done.”
“But–”
The rest of my protest is caught in my throat as he gently sweeps my hair over my shoulder, then leans in. As Sterling angles his body towards mine and presses the flat of his tongue against my skin, I’m too stunned to do anything other than remain perfectly still. Red hot lust fires through my body, and for the briefest of moments my eyes flutter shut.
“Oh,” I breathe out, completely forgetting Dalton is still in the same room as Sterling licks his blood right off my skin, his free hand squeezing my hip possessively.
“There,” he hums against my neck, pressing a brief kiss against my thready pulse before leaning back. “All better now.”
“I should…” I mumble, my cheeks flaming with heat as Dalton whistles low. “This isn’t… You shouldn’t have… Oh, God…” I take two shaky steps back, holding my hands up towards Sterling to try and fend off any more advances. Right now, I don’t think I have the strength to keep him at bay. “I have to go.”
“Harlow, just wait a minute,” Sterling begins, that damned muscle in his jaw jumping as he grits his teeth. I don’t know why I find that so attractive, I just do. I pause in the doorway, dragging in a shuddering breath.
“Please, Sterling…”
“ I see you, Harlow.”
“Don’t,” I bite out, regret for what can never be, opening up a well of pain inside my chest.
“This isn’t over,” he counters.
“It has to be,” I whisper as reality comes crashing back full force, and I flee the room.