Chapter 11
CHAPTER
ELEVEN
OLIVE
I’ll admit I was shocked when Harrison texted me today. Excited but surprised. After pushing him away last night, I thought for sure he would come to his senses and realize I’m not at all what he is looking for. He’s got player written all over him and his handsome, arrogant face.
I’m knocked straight out of my excitement when a letter is delivered by courier from Rita Matches. It’s a letter from my match. I hold the envelope like it’s a snake that’s ready to attack. I’m riddled through with guilt at the thought of some man out there pouring his heart out into this letter.
I decide to wait to open it until after my date with Harrison. I can always write him back apologizing for wasting his time. I obviously don’t deserve him if I’m torn apart by the physical attraction I have with one man while my potential perfect man is right here for the taking.
I push all thoughts of the letter and what I should do about it out of my mind, focusing instead on my upcoming date. Somehow, I feel bad about that too. These feelings of guilt definitely prove I’m unable to date more than one person at a time. And I’m not even technically dating one of the men.
At seven on the dot Harrison is knocking on my door. As soon as my door is open, he’s pulling me into his arms and kissing me deeply. I’m breathless when he pulls away.
“Hi.” I hardly recognize the husky tone of my voice.
“Hi, angel,” he says, not sounding nearly as affected as I do. Though the hungry way his eyes eat me up say that he is affected.
“Hi,” I say again stupidly. Lord, I’m addled when I’m around him. His lips quirk up in a sexy smirk. One that I can’t help but stare at and wish I could press my lips to his again. I want to kiss that smirk right off his face.
“Are you ready?”
“Yeah, let me grab my purse.” I’m back within seconds, and then I’m being whisked away in his fancy town car. For the first time, I really take in how extravagant it is to have a car and driver in the city. I depend on taxis and the train… I could get used to having a car at my beck and call.
We pull up to a high-rise, and I must look confused because Harrison grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze.
“I thought I would cook for you tonight. Is that okay? I promise no funny business… unless you instigate it.”
I smile wide at his thoughtfulness mixed with playfulness. I truly like this man. If I’m not careful, I could fall in too deep.
I’m not at all surprised when he hits the button for the penthouse once we’re in the elevator.
The tension builds with every floor we pass until Harrison pulls me into his arms and takes my lips in a sizzling hot kiss.
My whole body becomes soft and pliant for him.
I press my hardened nipples to his chest, loving the friction. My pussy is hot and wet, needy.
The bell dings letting us know we’ve arrived, and we reluctantly part. “What is it about elevators?” he asks gruffly.
I lick my lips. “Not sure, but I’m definitely not going to ever look at them the same way again.”
He chuckles. “It’s going to be quite awkward to get a hardon every time I ride in one, that’s for sure.”
My cheeks heat with a blush. He tucks a stray hair behind my ear and bends down to kiss me again. I let out a little sigh, parting my lips happily for him. The kiss is a quick one, but no less heat-inducing than the last. If he’s not careful, I’m just going to melt into a puddle at his feet.
“Let’s get you fed,” he growls into my lips. “Otherwise, I’ll never stop kissing you.”
“I’d be okay with that,” I moan, kissing him again. Threading my fingers through his hair and holding him close.
Too soon, he pulls away, untangling me from his body. “Dinner… I didn’t bring you here for this.”
I push my bottom lip out in a pout, but he just laughs. He leads me through his posh apartment to the kitchen. It’s impressive. Every high-end appliance a chef could want and then some. “This is nice,” I say, running my hand across the marble countertop.
“It gets the job done.” He’s at the refrigerator getting out all the ingredients he needs for dinner.
“I didn’t take you for someone who cooks.”
Harrison gives me a sly smile. “A single man either learns to cook, eats takeout every night, or hires someone to cook for them. I enjoy my privacy too much for a personal chef, and takeout gets monotonous. Plus, I just like cooking. It’s relaxing.”
I like his answer. I like that even though he could hire someone to cook his meals for him, he prefers to do it himself. It proves he’s not consumed by the fact that he’s stinking rich. It makes him a little more real—attainable. That’s a dangerous thought.
“I’ll admit. I’m not much of a cook, but I love to bake.”
“Sounds like we’re a perfect fit. I cook dinner, then have you for dessert.”
“I think you mean I make dessert?”
“I said what I meant,” he says, giving me a heated look. Those green-gold eyes of his eating me up from head to toe, lingering on my breasts where I know my nipples are hard and pressing against my blouse.
“Oh…”
“Yeah… oh…”
I blush at that. Whew, this man is going to have my cheeks constantly pink.
I’ve never been the blushing type. I mean, I write romance novels for a living, I’m not at all a prude.
I didn’t think I would be prone to embarrassment, but something about his words and how he looks at me has me blushing like crazy.
He quickly whips up a delicious smelling stir fry, and we sit down to eat.
Our conversation flows smoothly. He asks me more about my job, and I reveal to him that I have been struggling with it lately but that my block seems to be over.
I blush again at admitting that because if he asked what got me over the block, he would be the answer, and I’m a terrible liar. Thankfully, he lets the subject drop.
We talk about Rita, another subject that’s a bit of a hot spot because the last thing I really want to talk about is the fact that I came to her to find a man. Thankfully, we steer clear of all things Rita Matches.
“What about your family?” he asks.
I set my fork down and wipe my mouth with my napkin. A spike of pain sears through my heart like it does every time I think of my mother. “My dad died suddenly when I was six. My mom passed a couple years ago. Cancer. It was rough.”
A warm hand closes over mine and squeezes. “I’m sorry for your loss. I can’t imagine.”
I give him a sad smile. “It’s okay. It’s hard being an only child. Thankfully I have Zoe. My best friend is annoying, just like what I assume a sibling would be… maybe enough for two siblings.”
Harrison laughs, and the mood is lightened. We clear the dishes together and load the dishwasher. It’s very domestic, not something I would’ve ever guessed would feel natural with a man like him, but it does. I could see us doing this night after night.
“Would you like to watch a movie?”
“Absolutely, I love movies…”
He pulls me against his chest and looks down into my eyes. “What would you like to watch, angel?”
You.
“You choose.”
I’m surprised when he picks Phantom of the Opera, not the newer version, the 1940s version. My favorite. He puts on the movie and turns the lights down low. I’m pleased when he picks the spot right next to me on the couch and quickly make the decision to snuggle up to him.
If he’s surprised by my resting against his side, he doesn’t show it.
After a few minutes, he wraps his arm around me and starts trailing his fingers lightly up and down the exposed skin of my shoulder.
The teasing touch has me so distracted I can’t focus on the movie at all.
Instead, I turn and study his profile. The strong line of his jaw, that perfectly straight nose.
The way his pulse thrums in his neck. He’s the most attractive man I’ve ever seen.
He turns and looks down at me, smirking when he catches me looking at him.
Before he can say anything, I close the small distance between us and kiss him.
His hand moves from my shoulder to my cheek, then threads through my hair so he can hold me to him.
He deepens the kiss, devouring me. I moan into his lips, loving the feel of him.
Wanting more, feeling emboldened, I crawl into his lap and whip my shirt up and off. Then crush my lips back to his.
His big hands come down on my hips, holding me in place on top of his rock-hard shaft.
I wriggle, trying to rock against him, but he holds me steady.
I whimper, wordlessly begging. He kisses me like he wants to crawl inside me.
His tongue sweeping in and owning mine. I meet his motions, mimicking them as he takes complete control of me.
“Harrison,” I moan into his lips. “Please…”
“Angel, you’re killing me,” he says, breaking our kiss and resting his forehead to mine. His green eyes burning bright with lust.
“Consider this me instigating,” I say, rocking my hips as best I can with him holding me in place. He lets out a low hiss, then flips us until I’m flat on my back on the couch.
“Are you sure?”
I bite my lower lip and nod. “So sure.”
Harrison makes quick work of stripping me of the rest of my clothes.
I’d feel self-conscious, except the way he’s looking at me says it all.
He loves what he sees. He wastes no time crawling over me and licking first one nipple, then the next.
I gasp at the contact; I’ve played with my nipples myself—of course—but nothing has ever felt as good as his mouth on me.
Even his fingers tweaking my nipple is better.