10. Harper
Harper
The Rainbow Room feels vast now that the guests have gone, but there's still so much work to be done. I force myself to focus on post-event breakdown. Anything to keep my mind off what just happened on that balcony.
“Harper.” Jennifer's voice cuts through the controlled chaos of servers clearing tables and vendors packing equipment. She approaches with the biggest smile I've seen from her since we first met. “That was absolutely spectacular.”
“Thank you.” I try to match her enthusiasm. “I'm so glad everything came together.”
“Everything and more. The media coverage is already starting. I've got three requests for interviews about the event.”
My chest swells with pride. This is what I've worked for, what I've dreamed of. “That's incredible news.”
“Let's meet Monday morning to review the final numbers and start planning the gala and the Charity Auction. Nine AM work for you?”
I nod, pulling out my phone to add it to my calendar. “I'll have a full breakdown of what worked well and what we can improve for next time.”
“I have no doubt.” Jennifer squeezes my arm. “You've exceeded every expectation, Harper.”
After she leaves, I dive into the logistics of winding up. It’s better than focusing on the way my body is still humming with want.
“What do you want to do with the centerpieces?” Nikki, the florist, asks.
“Send them to the children's hospital on the Upper East Side. They'll brighten someone's day.”
I move through the room methodically, checking off items on my mental list. The rental company is efficiently packing china and glassware back into padded cases.
The catering staff has their cleanup well in hand.
I just need to do a final walk-through of the kitchen areas to make sure nothing's been missed.
“Excuse me, Ms. Hayes?” The AV technician approaches with his clipboard. “We're all packed up. Want to do a final check on the equipment inventory?”
I scan his list quickly, confirming that all the microphones, speakers, and lighting equipment are accounted for. “Looks good. Thanks for making everything run so smoothly tonight.”
“Easy gig when the planner knows what she's doing.”
I smile, grateful for the compliment. “Thanks, that means a lot.”
I find my team clustered in the middle of the room. “How are you guys feeling about tonight?”
“Amazing!” Amber gushes, her eyes sparkling with joy.
James grins. “And did you see how smoothly the dinner service went? Not a single delay, even with five hundred guests.”
“You guys were incredible tonight. I couldn't have done any of this without you.”
“So what's next?” Jessica asks. “Besides sleeping for twelve hours straight.”
“Follow-up calls to all the vendors tomorrow, thank you notes to the major sponsors, and a full debrief report for Jennifer by Monday morning.” I divide up the tasks among the three of them.
As they pack up their supplies, I take a moment to walk through the empty ballroom one more time. I make notes on my phone about the things that worked perfectly and a few small adjustments for next time.
Two vendors I've never worked with before were impressed enough to offer preferred pricing for future events.
By the time I gather all my planning materials, it's nearly one AM. Everyone has left, including my team. The venue is finally quiet except for the overnight cleaning crew.
I should feel triumphant. Jennifer's praise, the sponsor feedback, and the media interest. It's everything I've worked toward.
Instead, all I can think about is Cole. He’s taken over my mind and my body.
By the time I slump into the back of a cab, the adrenaline has finally, completely drained away, leaving me hollowed out and exhausted. But my skin still feels hypersensitive, every nerve ending alive with a want I can’t suppress.
I want to collapse into my bed and sleep for a year, but the thought of my bed makes me think of Cole’s bedroom down the hall, and a fresh wave of longing hits me so hard that it steals my breath.
Cole is probably asleep by now. I can slip in quietly, take a cold shower, and take a much-needed rest.
I kick off my beautiful but torturous heels right inside the door and pad barefoot across the cool hardwood. I’m about to creep up past the living room when a light from the living room catches my eye.
Cole is not asleep.
He’s sitting on the couch in sweatpants and a t-shirt, and when he looks up at me, my breath hitches. God, he’s so hot.
My heart jackhammers against my ribs. All I can do is stare. I eye-fuck him mercilessly, from the messy dark hair he’s been running his hands through, down the corded muscles of his forearms, to the way his powerful thighs strain against the dark fabric of his pants.
The memory of being pressed against those thighs on the balcony threatens to buckle my knees.
He stands up and closes the distance between us. His eyes are dark, serious, and full of a turmoil I don’t understand.
“Harper,” he says in a low, gravelly voice. “I owe you an apology.”
“Oh, what for?” I ask, mentally going through how he might have wronged me. I come up with nothing.
“I came on too strong on the balcony. You were exhausted, you had just finished the biggest night of your career, and I ambushed you. I was an asshole. I crossed a line.” He runs a hand through his hair.
I stare at him open-mouthed. This man is so clueless.
“You’re my guest, and I made you uncomfortable. It won’t happen again. I’m going to figure out how to be better about this.”
He’s so sweet and so respectful, and it makes all my resistance evaporate.
“Cole,” I say, my voice trembling. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable.”
His eyes widen. I grab the front of his shirt in my fists and crush my mouth to his. It’s not a gentle kiss. I’m devouring him. A ragged groan tears from his chest, and his arms lock around me, lifting me clean off my feet.
“Tell me you’re sure,” he growls against my mouth, his breath hot on my skin. “Because if I take you to my room, I’m not letting you go until you can’t remember your name.”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” I gasp, nipping at his lower lip.
That’s all the permission he needs. He carries me up out of the living room, his mouth never leaving mine, his hands gripping me like he’ll never let go. He kicks his bedroom door open and lays me down on his bed, follows me down, then covers my body with his.
It’s a frenzy of hands and mouths and desperate, hungry sounds.
Cole pulls off his shirt, and I rake my nails down the hard planes of his chest. He unzips my dress with a sharp tug, peeling the fabric away from my skin like he’s unwrapping something he’s been desperate for.
“Look at you,” he breathes, his eyes dark with hunger as he looks down at me, bare except for my lace panties. “Fuck, Harper. You’re so fucking beautiful.”
He dips his head and takes my nipple into his mouth, and I cry out, arching off the bed. His hand slides down my stomach, slipping under the edge of my panties.
“You’re so wet for me,” he murmurs, his fingers finding my clit then he circles it with a pressure that makes me see stars. “Is this for me?”
“Yes,” I moan, bucking against his hand. “Only you.”
He hooks his fingers in my panties and pulls them down my legs, tossing them aside. He stands just long enough to take off his pants and boxer briefs, and then he’s back, his naked body pressing me into the mattress.
Every point of contact sends a current of pure need through me. “Please, Cole,” I beg, my voice breaking as I arch my hips, trying to guide him to where I need him most. “I just need you inside me. I need to feel you. Now.”
His eyes, dark with a hunger that mirrors my own, lock onto mine. “You have no idea how long I've waited to hear you say that.”
He reaches into his nightstand, fumbling for a moment before tearing open a foil packet. I watch, breathlessly, as he sheathes himself.
Then he braces himself above me. “I’ve dreamed about this,” he says, his voice raw with need. “I’m not going to last long, Harper.”
“I don’t care.” I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer. “Just fuck me, Cole. Please.”
He lets out a guttural sound and pushes into me, filling me in one long, perfect stroke. We both cry out, the sensation so intense, it borders on pain. He stills, buried deep, his forehead pressed to mine.
“Jesus Christ,” he pants. “You feel like heaven.”
Then he begins to move, and all coherent thought vanishes. It’s pure, animal instinct. Each thrust is deep and punishing and exactly what I need.
“You take me so good,” he grunts, his pace relentless. “So fucking good. Your sweet, tight pussy was made for me.”
His dirty talk unravels me completely. I clutch at his back, my nails digging into his skin, meeting him thrust for thrust.
“Tell me you’re close,” he demands, his breath hot in my ear. He reaches between us and plays with my clit. “I want to feel you come on my cock.”
“Oh my God, Cole…” The tension inside me snaps, and my orgasm shatters through me, violent and all-consuming. I scream his name into his shoulder as my body convulses around him.
My climax does something to him because in the next second, he roars as he drives into me one last time, his entire body shuddering as he pours himself into me. He collapses on top of me, both of us gasping and slick with sweat.
For a long time, the only sound is our ragged breathing slowly returning to normal. He shifts his weight off me but pulls me tightly against his side, my head on his chest. His heart is still hammering under my ear.
He presses a kiss to my sweaty temple. “I take back my apology,” he murmurs, his voice drowsy and satisfied.
A breathy laugh escapes me. “Good.”
He holds me closer. “Stay right here.”
As I come down from my high, reality slams into me.
I just slept with my brother's best friend. My temporary roommate. The man whose team I'm supposed to plan more events for, without any personal complications.
This was supposed to be the night I proved myself professionally, and instead, I've just made everything a hell of a lot more complicated.