37. Luke
LUKE
Iwalk to the couch and drop onto it, spreading my legs wide and settling back against the cushions like I own the world. Right now, with Harper standing in front of me, eyes wide and breath coming fast, I fucking do. “Go ahead. Show me.”
She hesitates for just a second, and then her hands go to the hem of her shirt. She pulls it up slowly, revealing inch by inch of smooth skin, the curve of her waist, the black of her bra.
Jesus Christ. I force myself to keep from getting up, throwing her over my shoulder, and taking her to my bed.
She drops the shirt on the floor and reaches for her jeans. Her fingers fumble slightly, and I can see the flush spreading across her chest, up her neck.
“Still nervous?” I ask.
“It’s not like I strip for someone every day.” Her usual sarcasm is there, but there’s a vulnerable undertone in her voice that makes my chest tighten.
“You have no reason to be nervous.” I lean forward slightly, my elbows on my knees. “You’re fucking perfect, Harper.”
She looks like she’s not sure if she should believe me. That’s okay—I have the next fifty years, maybe more, to show her I mean it.
She unbuttons her jeans, sliding the zipper down without an ounce of coyness.
The sound fills the room—loud in the silence between us.
She hooks her thumbs into the waistband and pushes them down over her hips, revealing matching black panties that make my cock throb painfully in my pants.
She kicks them aside and stands there in just her bra and panties.
I can’t take my eyes off her. The curve of her hips. The long lines of her legs. The way her chest rises and falls with each breath. “Keep going.”
She puts her hands on her cocked hips. “You’re seriously going to sit there and keep watching?”
“Fuck yeah, I am.” I ease back again, letting my hand drop to my lap, palming myself through my jeans. “I’ve been thinking about you naked for weeks, sunshine. I’m going to enjoy every second.”
Her eyes drop to my hand, and I see the way her pupils dilate, the way her thighs press together. She likes it. She likes knowing what she does to me.
“You like watching me touch myself?” I squeeze myself harder.
“Yes.” She licks her lips.
I groan, easing my hips forward. “Does it make you wet?”
“I don’t know.” She tips her head, her brow arched. “Let me check.”
I nearly choke on my drool as she slips a hand into her panties.
I hear her breathing quicken but my focus is entirely on the sight of her fingers under the black fabric. I don’t know what she’s doing, but I can imagine. It’s pretty damn good in my mind, but I bet the reality is a hell of a lot better.
“Yeah, it does make me wet.” Her lips curving in a wicked little smile, she pulls her hand out and wipes it on her panties before she unclasps her bra and lets it fall.
My breath catches in my throat. Her breasts are perfect—full, nipples already hard. I want to suck and bite them. I want to come all over them and make them mine. “Jesus, Harper. You have no idea what you do to me.”
“I think I have some idea,” she says, and there’s a hint of that sharp humor in her voice that I love.
“Yeah?” I unzip my jeans and pull my cock out.
I’m so hard it hurts, and I can’t help but stroke myself slowly, watching her watch me.
“Then you know I’ve been walking around for weeks with a hard-on every time you’re near me.
You know I’ve been thinking about bending you over every surface in this town.
You know I’ve been imagining what you’d look like on your knees with my cock in your mouth. ”
Her breath hitches, and I see the way her body responds—the flush deepening, her nipples tightening even more.
“Take off the panties,” I command, my voice rough with need.
She hooks her thumbs into the waistband and starts to slide them down, but then she pauses. “What if I don’t?”
I lean forward, my eyes locked on hers. “Then I’ll come over there and rip them off you myself. And I won’t be gentle about it.”
“Promises, promises,” she murmurs, but she turns around, giving me her back. She bends over as she slides the panties down her legs.
“Fuck.” I groan, my hand tightening around my cock. The plump roundness of her ass, the glimpse of her pussy from behind—it’s almost too much.
She steps out of the panties and straightens, turning to face me, completely bare.
She’s so stunning I can’t breathe. Every curve, every line, every inch of her is exactly what I’ve been craving.
I stand, pull my pants up, and go to her.
Her lips part, and her eyes stay glued to my cock, where the tip rises out of the opening of my pants. She licks her lips again, and my cock surges like it can already feel her tongue.
I grip her hips, holding her with inches between us. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” I murmur, holding her gaze. “And you’re mine.”
She lifts her chin. “You’re mine too.”
I grin slowly. “Damn right I am.”
And then I get on my knees to show her.