Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
M mm . Sleep slowly lifted, that warm, drowsy state where everything was good in the world and anything felt possible.
Harlow snuggled into the warm body beside her. God, he smelled good.
Wait .
She cracked one eye open. A naked, fast-asleep Easton came into focus. He was lying on his stomach, one arm bunched under the pillow, and the other one wrapped around her.
Oh, shit.
She sat up. She remembered everything, in perfect detail, of what they’d done to each other during the night.
She’d slept with her boss.
She’d slept with the billionaire who could, and regularly did, have anyone he wanted. And not just slept, had lots of amazing, spectacular sex.
“Harlow, you idiot,” she muttered.
She scrambled off the bed and winced. She was very tender between her legs. Then she looked up through the terrace doors and stopped.
Holy cow . The view was as stunning as she’d imagined. She watched a yacht heading across the Bay, its white sails bright against the dark-blue waters.
Then she turned back and her gaze snagged on Easton.
He was an even better view.
He was sprawled there, still sleeping. But even asleep, he looked powerful and in charge. His bronze skin was a stark contrast to the million-thread-count white sheets.
His back was uncovered, and her greedy gaze traveled over the muscular lines of it. The sheet only covered half of his fabulous ass. She saw red scratches on his skin and blushed. God, she’d left marks on him. Her mouth watered and she took one step back toward the bed.
No .
She swiveled, fighting the urge to escape. She couldn’t exactly leave his place. She bit her lip. She was stuck at the scene of the crime.
Shower . She’d take a shower and then decide what to do about the circus her life had become.
When she entered the bathroom, her heart kicked at her ribs. This was exactly how she’d renovate a master bathroom. Huge shower with dual heads, gorgeous gray tiles, and a free-standing tub under the window that begged for bubbles.
She stepped into the huge shower stall and slid under the hot water.
Oh, that felt good. She closed her eyes and let her mind go blank.
Only seconds later, she heard the shower door open.
Pulse pounding, she spun.
A gloriously naked Easton stepped inside. Of course, the man didn’t look sleepy. No, he was sharp-eyed, hair sexily mussed.
“No.” She held up her hands. “I’m taking a shower, then once I’m dressed, I’ll work out how to rectify the huge mistake of sleeping with my boss.”
Easton kept coming. “You slept with Meredith?”
“Ha ha.”
He snaked an arm around her waist and hauled her close. Water rained over them.
“It wasn’t a mistake,” he said.
“It was. I totally slipped up.”
He smiled. “The first time I made you orgasm? Or the second or third time?”
Harlow sniffed. “Don’t get—”
“How many times did you scream my name last night? Five? Six? Seven times?”
Harlow cocked her head. “Are you done?”
“Yeah.” He lowered his mouth to hers.
She was so weak. She kissed him back.
She found herself pressed up against the tiles by Easton’s hard body, panting, and stroking his hard cock.
“Fair warning,” he murmured. “You’re about to make another mistake.”
“Oh, stop talking.” She yanked his head down to hers. “Condom?”
He cursed.
She licked her lips. “I know you had your physical the other week.” She’d made the appointment for him.
He froze. “I’m in perfect health.”
Her pulse was pounding. “So am I, and I have a contraceptive shot.”
His fingers flexed on her. “You saying I can take you bare? Nothing between us?”
“If you trust me. I can—”
“Fuck.” His body shook and he urged her to wrap her legs around his waist.
She did, and he didn’t make her wait. A second later, he slid inside her with a hard thrust.
“ Easton .”
“There it is.”
Then he proceeded to rock her world.
When he finally turned the shower off, her legs were limp, and she clung to him to stay upright.
He led her out of the shower, then wrapped her in a fluffy towel. He pressed a kiss to her nose. “While you get dressed, I’ll make us some breakfast.”
“You can cook?”
“My mother’s Italian-American. She decreed that all her children would know their way around the kitchen.”
Harlow paused, savoring the image of Easton working at the stove, not wearing a shirt. Mmm .
“Harlow?”
“Right. Um, I don’t have any clothes.”
“Yes, you do. I asked Gia to get some things from your place. They’re in the closet.” He stroked her cheek. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”
Harlow dried off, wrapped herself in her towel, and headed into his closet. She moaned. It was simply amazing. She touched his shirts and suits, and strode down the long closet. Then she jerked to a halt.
Her clothes were hanging on the other side. She blinked. All her clothes. Gia had brought everything Harlow owned.
She also found her skin care and makeup. And her hair dryer.
She wasn’t sure if she should thank Easton’s sister, or be mad that she’d practically moved Harlow in.
Right . Well, at the moment, she needed to get ready for work.
She flicked through her skirts. She needed a pick-me-up today.
Harlow selected her favorite Max Mara pencil skirt in blood red.
She paired it with a thin, black belt, and a long-sleeved black shirt.
Next, she reentered Easton’s gorgeous master bathroom and dried her hair.
She decided to leave it down for a change.
After her makeup was done, she completed the look with a pair of Jimmy Choos with a cute ankle strap.
She headed down the grand staircase, reality poking at her again.
How could she possibly get her dad out of this mess? If her mother found out what was happening, she’d have a breakdown.
Harlow stepped into the living area and kitchen. Easton was standing at the island wearing a navy-blue suit and a blue shirt that brought out his eyes.
Her heart skipped a beat. He was just so male . She just stared at him, taking him in.
He sipped his coffee, then looked her way. He paused, his gaze running over her—from the top of her head, down her body to her shoes, and back to her face.
“That outfit tempts me to convince you to make another mistake before we go to work.”
“I look professional,” she said.
“Sexy professional.” His gaze lingered on her skirt. “It’s one thing to imagine what you look like under those skirts while I’m at work, it’s another to actually know.”
“No sexy thoughts at work.”
He made a deep sound. “Impossible. I now also know what sounds you make when you come on my cock.”
She gasped.
He skirted the island and poured coffee from a carafe, then pulled a plate out of the oven. It held a perfectly cooked omelet.
He nudged her toward one of the stools at the island and she sat, suddenly overwhelmed. “Thank you.”
She couldn’t remember the last time someone had cooked her breakfast.
He cupped her face. “You’ll get through this, Harlow. I’m right here with you.”
She stared into those cobalt-blue eyes. “I’m glad you are.”
“You’re finally admitting that.” He kissed her, taking his time. “Now eat.”
She listened to him take a call. He was talking to some banker in Australia. How was she going to make it through the day at the office without giving away the fact that she’d explored every inch of Easton Norcross’ body. In great detail. And wanted to do it again.
She gave an internal groan, and then drank her coffee like it was the elixir of life.
Easton had just finished his call when his phone rang again. He put it on speaker. “Vander.”
“Morning.” Vander’s deep voice. “Harlow there?”
“Yes.” She pressed her hands to the island, her pulse dancing.
“We found your father.”
She sucked in a breath. “Is he okay?”
“Yeah. I have him here at my office.”
She jumped off the stool. “We’ll be right there.”
“See you soon,” Vander said.
Harlow met Easton’s gaze. “He’s all right.” She smiled. “God, I was so worried.”
Easton brushed her hair back behind her ear. “Grab your bag and we’ll go.”
“Wait, what about work? You have meetings this morning—”
“I’ll call Gina to reschedule.”
Harlow’s belly twisted. “I’m causing you so much trouble. I—”
Easton pulled her close. “Do you ever worry about yourself? Or is it just everybody else?”
“Easton—”
He nipped her lips. “This time, I’m taking care of you. You just need to focus on you.”
Harlow knew he liked being in charge and taking care of things as much as she did.
But she was realizing that he needed someone to worry about him, too.
* * *
Before Easton had even finished parking the Aston at the Norcross Security office, Harlow was flying out of the car.
With a curse, he caught her at the stairs leading up to the main floor. He took her elbow.
“You shouldn’t run in those heels. You’ll break an ankle.”
She arched a brow. “You should see what I can do in these shoes.”
He smiled.
Harlow rolled her eyes. “Of course, you’re thinking naughty things.”
He stopped on the stairs and kissed her. “I think naughty things anytime you’re close, Harlow Maree. Nothing to do with your shoes.”
She gasped. “How do you know my middle name?”
“It’s on your employment file. And Vander investigated you, remember?”
She frowned. “Maybe I didn’t understand exactly how much Vander was reporting to you.”
Easton took her hand and started upward. “Your first boyfriend was Brandon Dalton in high school.”
Her mouth dropped open.
“He’s an unsuccessful real estate agent now. Divorced twice.”
She shot him a look.
“Vander is always very thorough. And what he uncovered is that you’re a rare woman, Harlow. One with no secrets.” Easton felt that old, familiar darkness rise. “I’d forgotten that people like you exist.”
Concern crossed her face. “Easton—”
“What he uncovered is that you’re hard-working, you save your money, and you care about your family, a little too much.”
Her face softened.
“And you only splurge on clothes and shoes.”
“They’re an investment.” She squeezed his hand. “What you see is what you get with me.”