34. Harper
HARPER
Are you down with that?
The question hangs between us like a live wire.
My cop brain fires immediately, cataloging everything he’s asking. Not just sex, not just attraction. He’s asking me to commit to a man who operates outside the law I’ve spent my entire adult life upholding.
The logical answer is no. The smart answer is no. The safe answer is no. The answer that keeps my badge and my integrity in Iron Ridge intact—that answer is fuck no.
But I already made this choice. I made it the moment I drove to Blackthorn Ranch and handed over notes suggesting the Turners might have caused Mr. Hayes’s death.
And I made it again when I saw that van go over the bridge and didn’t call it in, and I reinforced it when I turned a blind eye and drove home as Luke took the zip-tied woman away.
I didn’t report any of it.
I destroyed evidence.
I crossed the line the moment I chose to save her instead of doing my job.
I’m complicit.
And the system? The system failed that woman Luke fished out of the ravine before I ever got to her. The system has proven it can’t handle men like Turner allegedly is—men with money and connections and the ability to do whatever they want in plain sight.
I’ve already answered this question. I answered it at that bridge. I answered it when I chose Luke over the law.
This isn’t about making a new choice. This is about admitting the one I’ve already made.
Luke’s watching me with those dark eyes, waiting. I’d have thought he’d push me—he normally does—but he’s not. He’s just waiting for me to decide.
I don’t know what to do about that. He’s not what I thought, and at the same time he is exactly that.
God, I want him.
I’d never admit it to him—he’s insufferable enough as it is—but I’ve wanted him since the first time I saw him and his eyes lit on me like he was a bull and I was his personal red flag.
I’ve wanted him through every argument, every clash of personality, every moment he made me question everything I thought I believed.
I want him when he climbs through my window despite my dad being awake and when he’s competently rescuing someone in danger. I want him when he’s flirting and when he’s deadly serious.
I want him even though—especially because—he sees through every defense I put up.
“You’re asking me to choose you,” I iterate, to make it tangible. My voice doesn’t shake even though my hands do. “Knowing you’re about to do something that could get someone killed. Knowing you’re going to break laws I swore to uphold.”
“Yeah.” His thumb brushes my cheekbone again, and the tenderness of it nearly breaks me. “That’s exactly what I’m asking.”
“That’s a hell of a thing to ask, Bennett.”
“I know.” His voice is rough. “But I’m not going to lie to you, Harper. I’m not going to pretend I’m something I’m not.”
It strikes me that for once he isn’t trying to charm his way to the answer he wants. He’s handing me a loaded truth and trusting me not to shoot him with it.
Something in my chest gives way. I take a deep breath and give him the truth. “I know exactly who you are.”
His jaw tightens. He looks like he’s braced for a verbal slap, like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Hesitating—because despite the romance novels, I’m not a soft person—I lift my hand and cup his face. “I know you break rules. I know you’ll make decisions that’ll drive me insane. I know you charge into situations with absolutely no regard for your own safety.”
A corner of his mouth twitches. “Did I tell you my nickname is Riot?”
“Of course it is.” I roll my eyes, but then I chuckle.
His expression softens like he’s storing the sound away for later.
“You’re wrong about one thing,” I say, stepping into him. His body radiates heat, and I have the urge to rub myself along the length of him like I’m a cat. “I don’t have to choose you.”
His gaze sharpens and his hands grip me tighter. When he speaks, his voice is commanding. “Yes, you do.”
Shaking my head, my fingers curl into his shirt. “I already did.”
The breath leaves him. For the first time since I’ve known him, Luke Bennett looks stunned.
Then his forehead drops against mine. “Say that again.”
A smile pulls at my mouth. “No.”
“Harper.” He tugs my hair.
I gasp, feeling myself go soft for him. “Nope.”
His laugh rumbles through his chest, low and naughty. “You’re asking for it, sunshine.”
“Stop that.” Even I hear my lack of conviction.
He kisses my cheek before running his nose up my neck and then nipping under my jaw. “I’m going to call you that until we’re eighty.”
My knees give, and I feel a rush of warmth between my legs. I grip on to him so I don’t fall to his feet—he’d really like that, I’m sure.
Hell—who am I kidding? So would I.
He lifts his head, and a slow grin spreads across his face—a grin I’ve always known has ruined countless women before me. Only now it feels different. It feels like it’s mine.
For better or worse, I decide right here and now that I’m claiming it.
I rise onto my toes and close the distance, pressing my mouth to his.
His breath catches, and his lips are still under mine for a heartbeat, like I’ve stunned him.
I lift and press again, a whisper of contact. Then I part my lips and lick at the seam of his mouth, like I’m asking for permission to enter.
Luke makes a low sound that goes straight through me. His arm wraps around my waist and pulls me flush against him, rough and demanding and certain, like he’s spent weeks fighting the urge to touch me and finally lost.
Or won.
Looking into my eyes, he fists my hair, pulling it just enough to send a shot of excitement through me. “Listen to me very carefully, Harper. Once I have you, really have you, there’s no going back. You understand that?”
I nod.
But he pulls my hair tighter, forcing my eyes to stay locked on his. “Words. I need to hear you say it.”
My breath catches in my throat. “I understand.”
“Good.” He brushes the faintest kiss on my lips, a direct contrast to his hard-edged words. “Because I’m going to fuck you hard. I’m going to make you come so many times you lose count. I’m going to own every inch of your body, every sound you make, every orgasm that tears through you.”
My heart beats hard in my chest, wanting all of that, over and over and over again. “Then get to it, Bennett.”
His eyes glittering, he places another soft kiss on my mouth. “You’re going to be mine, Harper. And once I take you, I’m never letting you go.”
His free hand slides down my back, gripping my ass and pulling me against him so I can feel exactly how hard he is, exactly what he’s promising.
“I’m going to strip you down and taste every fucking inch of you,” he continues, his voice dropping to something darker, more primal.
“I’m going to bury myself inside you and make you scream my name so loud the whole county hears it.
I’m going to mark you, inside and out, so you never forget who you belong to. ”
My breath comes in short gasps. My thighs clench.
“I want to hear you beg,” he says, his mouth hovering just above mine. “I want to feel you come around my cock while you’re crying my name. I want to own you completely—your body, your pleasure, your surrender. That’s what I want, Harper. That’s what I’m going to take.”
He pulls my hair back, exposing my throat, and his eyes are dark and dangerous and uncompromising.
“So I’m going to ask you one more time, and I need you to be absolutely sure.
Because once you say yes, you’re mine. No hesitation.
No taking it back. Just you and me and everything that comes with it. ”
I nod, unable to form words.
“Say it,” he demands. “Tell me you’re mine.”
“I’m yours,” I whisper, and the words feel like a vow.
His eyes go dark, almost black with want. “Damn right you are.”
Then he kisses me.