Flip This Love Page 10

  “I didn’t want to miss the floor show.”

  The statement was supposed to come off cool and cocky, but the slight croak in his voice gave him away. He was no saint, but a far cry from the sinner he pretended to be. Getting straight down to business, he shoved his jeans and briefs down over those powerful thighs. The clink of his belt buckle hitting the floor almost made her want to hoot her approval. Despite the Mount Olympus physique, he was deliciously human. He cussed as he bent to attack the laces of his boots. One hand groped the rumpled quilt for balance as the most delightful color tinged the back of his neck. Lifting herself up for a better view, she realized the man she was hoping would screw her silly was, in fact, blushing the deep red of an heirloom peony.

  A blade of remorse twisted in her gut. She reached for him, wanting to stroke the flush heating his skin as she had the velvety petals of the flowers he’d sent. And she’d rejected. “The flowers really were beautiful.” She spoke softly, shame and regret coloring the words. “I’m sorry I gave them away.”

  He straightened slowly and stood bare as the day he was born right in front of her—nearly six and a half feet of formidable, and unmistakably aroused, male. He looked her right in the eye. “I’ll send you dozens more.”

  “Don’t. It’s too much.”

  A small, almost rueful smile twisted his gorgeous lips. He stepped to the edge of the bed and pushed her knees apart to make room for him to stand between them. Then he tipped forward, forcing her to fall flat on her back. Of course, he caught his weight on his hands. She should have known he would. But there was something of a wild card in Harley’s make up. It made him damn irresistible.

  “Would you be happier if I swiped them from someone’s yard?”

  Amused by the mental image of big, bad Harley Cade sneaking into some old lady’s garden to snap her precious peonies off by the stem, she smiled as she curled up, planted a tender kiss to his parted lips, then fell back again. “You won’t have much luck getting peonies around here. They do better up north.”

  He nodded. “So I’ve heard. Tell you what, sugar,” he began in a drawl that grew thicker with each word. “You tell me when it’s time, and I’ll take you up to the land of the Yankees, and we’ll steal every dadgum pe-o-ny they’ve got up there.”

  His lips hovered mere millimeters above hers. She could smell mint on his breath. Heat rolled off him in waves. Her vision blurred a bit. For a moment, she worried he might be some sort of mirage brought on by sex-deprivation. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and bit down. She wanted to be sure she wasn’t cooking him up. When everything snapped back into focus, she could see nothing but him. “C'mere.”

  He lowered some of his weight onto her. The most important parts, at least. Hair-rough thighs pushed hers farther apart. The ridges notching his stomach sank into the softness of her belly. His cock pressed against the thin cotton of her panties, long, hard, hot, and every bit as glorious as she remembered it being. Unable to resist, she tilted her bottom up, settling him into the sweet spot and instinctively beginning to rock. He gave an eye roll she might have called dramatic if she couldn’t hear the hitch in his breathing.

  “Silly flower-hoarding Yankees,” she whispered, picking up the thread of conversation once more. She circled her hips in blatant invitation. “Serve them right if we did.”

  “Christ, Delaney, I can feel you through those panties.”

  “I bet it’d feel even better without them.”

  His answering groan ripped loose from its moorings and turned into a full-out growl. “This is going too fast.”

  He lowered a hand to her hip in what she took as a half-hearted attempt to ease the pace. The blunt tips of his fingers sunk into the curve of her ass and she matched him groan for moan as their herky-jerky movements melted into a sensuous slow dance.

  “You make me feel like a boy,” he grumbled, nipping at her mouth. “It’d serve you right if I came on your leg like one.”

  The mere suggestion she might be able to drive this mountain of a man beyond the brink was almost too much to bear. Almost, but not quite. She was tempted. So sorely tempted. But, oh, she wanted more from him. So much more. “Is it wrong if the thought of that happening gets me hot?”

  “Okay, so this is going to go faster than I intended.”

  “I’m not worried. The South will rise again.”

  The question of fast or slow dangled in the air, ripped loose from its anchor when he tore himself up and away from her. He rocked back on his heels, a triumphant grin spreading across his handsome face and the panties she’d been wearing now hung suspended from his fingertips.

  “Whoa. Neat trick.” She batted her eyelashes and scooted back to center herself on the bed. She might have lost a little of the sexy factor when she bicycled her legs to push the tangled sheet and comforter to the foot of the bed, but the heat in his gaze was turned up high. If the progression of the evening was any indication, they were going to need plenty of room to run. “You learn that out in Hollywood, Mr. Houdini?”

  He didn’t respond to her baiting. Instead, he let her panties flutter to the floor, swooped down to pick up his jeans, and extracted a condom from the front pocket. The foil packet scissored between two fingers, he held it up for inspection as he claimed the spot beside her. “Now you know the extent of my bag of tricks.”

  Biting the inside of her cheek, Laney tried not to think about the night he lay in the very same spot, in the very same bed, but nothing at all was the same. This wasn’t the sweet little carriage house apartment she’d decorated with treasures from the attics at Tarrington House. She was no longer the cosseted daughter of Mobile society. Despite the fact her father drew breath, she was now essentially an orphan. A broke orphan with a drawer full of unpaid debts. The girl who’d slept with Harley Cade last fall believed her heart to be bullet-proof. And the man beside her had proved her to be flat-out wrong.

  “Were you with many people while you were out there?” The question popped out, and she hated herself for letting her insecurities loose. How needy could a woman get? Since he’d been the one to make a production out of procuring the condom, maybe she could play it off as a health concern. “I mean, it’s the land of opportunity, right? No doubt you had your fair share. No need to get detailed. I’m wondering if I need to ask you to double-bag it.”

  He blinked, clearly astounded by her assumptions. For once, she could read the man as clear as day, and what she saw didn’t exactly make her happy. She was a fool. A stupid fool who spoke first and thought second. And in doing so, she’d hurt him.

  “Who would I be with?” he demanded in a husky rush. “Don’t you know by now there’s no one else? Haven’t I proved myself?”

  “Harley, I’m sorry—”

  “Damn straight you’d better be sorry.” His voice was soft but menacing. “I want a real apology, not an ‘I’m sorry.’”

  “I apologize,” she said quickly. Too quickly. When he started to sit up, she planted a hand on his chest and pushed him back down. “Truly, I do. What I said was stupid and insensitive. You know I can be kind of mean when I feel cornered.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Yeah, I know.”

  “Then you also know it’s because I’m...” She paused to take a breath. Swallowing a lifetime full of pride wasn’t exactly easy to do. “I tend to...lash out.”

  The gentle hand caressing her cheek helped keep all those embarrassing emotions she had swirling inside her in check. Seconds passed and he didn’t say a word, though she was sure he had some choice ones he could dole out. She was forgiven. It was evident in his tender caress. And when he did speak, the husky timbre of his voice cut straight through to her heart like a buzz saw.

  “Who in the world could I want after you, Delaney? Tell me, who?”

  Chapter 7

  Laney squinted up at Harley as if he’d sprouted a third eyeball in the center of his forehead. She drew back slightly, pressing deeper into the pillow
s as she studied him, her expression a kaleidoscope of conflicting emotions. She was soft one second, skeptical the next. There were hints of what he hoped might be happiness sandwiched between flashes of outright suspicion. He didn’t much care for the calculation he saw reflected in the dark depths of her eyes, but couldn’t argue the answer when she favored him with a sly smile at last.

  “Are you saying I ruined you for all other women?”

  The breath he’d been holding burst from him like water from a busted pipe. She was naked, soft, and smiling up at him as if he’d whispered the combination to the safe at Tiffany’s into her ear. Given the wheels he set in motion mere seconds after she’d requested her business meeting, he knew he wasn’t out of the woods yet. Far from it. But he had to say, the things he was seeing in this new, more grounded Laney made him think he had half a chance of running the gauntlet of her anger and emerging intact.

  “Yes. That’s exactly what I’m saying.” He eyed her pointedly and gave her a tight smile. “Of course, I’ve been trying to tell you that for some time now, but you never believe me.”

  The realities she’d faced in his absence made her tougher than she’d ever been. They reinforced her tattered pride with steely determination. The fact was, she’d come home from her failed attempt to become a big-shot New York designer with her tail between her legs and a chip on both shoulders. She wore the mantle of perceived failure like a set of NFL shoulder pads. Prickly and sharp-tongued, most people gave her wide berth. Hell, if she didn’t have her mama or Brooke by her side almost all the time, it was a good bet a number of Mobile’s movers and shakers would have written her off entirely. But not him. Never him. He’d let her cut chunks out of him again and again, and came back for more.

  Leaning down, he brushed a kiss over her lips. She arched when he pulled away, silently asking for more. Harley wondered if she even knew she was shoving him away with one hand, but all the while begging for more. It was one of the things that kept him coming back to this maddening but irresistible woman. One of the many, many things. Rolling half on top of her, he pinned her to the mattress so she couldn’t wriggle away.

  “Do you believe me now?”

  “That I ruined you for other women?”

  Harley was gratified to note the tremor in her voice. He liked her best when she was slightly off balance. He figured he was less likely to get steamrolled if she couldn’t get her feet planted firmly on the ground. Despite his best intentions, he had a feeling there might be a battle at hand if everything didn’t go as he planned. And he’d been in the renovation business long enough to know absolutely nothing went according to plan. Hell, he’d be willing to bet even the Almighty had to make an adjustment here and there. He’d probably thought the land animals first, but realized they’d be more complicated, so went with the fish on the fifth day...

  “Harley?”

  “Hm?”

  She ran her fingers over his face, then let them trail down to his mouth. She traced his bottom lip with the tip of her fingernail, and his focus zoomed in on her. “You back with me?” she asked, a teasing smirk lifting a corner of her mouth.

  “Always. I always come right back to you.”

  Her smile grew more cocky. “Because I ruined you for all other women.”

  “Because you are the only woman I ever wanted. Even if you were too damn snotty to ever look at a guy like me.”

  “Oh, I looked at you.”

  Before he could congratulate himself too enthusiastically, Laney pushed the soles of her feet into the mattress, planted the heel of her other hand on his shoulder, and dug her fingers unerringly into the ticklish spot at his hipbone. He jerked and flopped onto his back like a landed fish. In an instant, she was straddling him, midnight hair tousled, red lips stretched wide in a grin, and those magnificent Creole eyes dancing with delight. Breath snarled in his chest when she took both of his hands in hers. For a split second, he thought—no, prayed—she would pull them to her breasts, but she didn’t.

  Damn the contrary woman.

  The litany of complaints building inside him died on his tongue when she bent low and planted their clasped hands on the pillow on either side of his head. They both groaned as her taut nipples scraped his chest. She held him there, her smile of triumph melting into one drunk with desire. She shifted, drawing attention to the way his dick nestled snug against the damp heat of her, and he was right there with her. Utterly intoxicated.

  “Every woman looked at you,” she continued as if she hadn’t turned his whole world on its ear. “So I only looked when you couldn’t catch me looking.” She closed her eyes and rocked her hips. “That’s how I kept you interested.”

  How she could think straight while she was rubbing against him was beyond him. So were speech and coherent thought. Her soft folds parted. They were bare—or nearly so. He’d never forget the night he discovered cool, proper Delaney Tarrington had her pussy waxed like he’d only seen in dirty movies. He’d gone down on her and damn near never came up for air. He planned to do the same tonight, but it would have to wait for later. He could feel the soft prickles of hair rippling along the length of his dick, but they only enhanced the sensation. She was wet. Ready for him.

  She loosened her hold on his hand and freed the condom from his grasp. He groaned long and loud when she slid off his aching dick to sit on his thighs. Laney must have understood because she tore the wrapper neatly in half and the rubber popped out. She shook her other hand free and went to work on getting him suited up. A curtain of loose waves blocked his view of her beautiful face. He curled up, purposefully using his abs because he wasn’t above a little vanity, and gathered the dark locks in greedy hands.

  “Jesus,” Laney whispered. She finished rolling the condom into place then ran her palms over his stomach.

  Rising the rest of the way, he gripped her bottom in both hands and lifted her up. She touched him everywhere, stroking his chest, tracing his abs, and giving his arms needy, demanding squeezes to urge him on. Like he needed encouragement. Didn’t she know he was barely holding back the urge to split her like a ripe, juicy peach? He drew a deep breath in through his nose, fighting for control, but then lost his grip on everything but her sweet bottom when she plunged down onto him.

  “Lord, have mercy.” In a blink, he was seated deep in her tight, wet heat.

  Tossing her hair back, Laney laughed, bracing her hands on his shoulders as she let her knees slide apart even farther. The moan that rose up in his throat was pure animal approval. Her hair spilled over his shoulder and tickled his face when she bent to kiss the pulse below his ear. His heart kicked up another gear as she slid her hand into the snug space between their bodies. He tensed his thighs and lifted her up. Her knuckles scraped his pubic hair. He wanted to bat her hand away, insist he’d take care of her, cup her bare, sweet pussy, and play with her until she turned to putty in hands. But he didn’t do any of those things. Because there was nothing hotter than watching a woman take what she wanted. And as long as he was the one Delaney wanted, he was more than happy to submit. For a little while.

  “This might go fast,” she panted.

  Her breath hitched as she found the right rhythm and perfect angle. He slid his fingertips along the crevice of her ass, goading her into racing for the damn finish line if that’s what she wanted. He’d meet her there. Then he’d take her all over again. Over and over again. He matched her moan for groan and gasp for growl, but he let her have her lead. It would be his turn soon enough.

  She leaned into him, using the hair on his chest to tease her nipples. Of all the facets of Laney he’d seen over the years, Harley had to admit shameless was the one he liked best. And he wasn’t above exploiting her sweet weakness.

  “I wanted to fuck you on my desk today,” he said, his voice rough with suppressed need.

  She answered his dirty talk with a moan of surrender. Between them, her fingers moved faster, but the rise and fall of her hips slowed. Gripping h
er hips, he took over, pushing up into her more.

  “I wanted to leave your pretty dress on and fuck you six ways from Sunday.”

  “Oh!”

  The strangled exclamation was kerosene to the fire building inside him. “And those thoughts were nothing compared to what I’m going to do to you in this bed tonight.”

  “I’m...oh—”

  “I’m going to lick you and suck you, Delaney.” He felt her tense, her body pulsing on the very edge of release. “I’m going to devour you.”

  She broke apart, yanking her hand from the cradle of their bodies and throwing her head back so she could cry her release to the world at large. But he wasn’t nearly done with her. He flipped her over, ignoring her pants and gasps, and grabbed her flailing hands. He pinned one over her head as she had done earlier and drove into her hard and deep. The way she liked it. Grasping her wrist, he drew her right hand to his mouth and placed a wet kiss to the center of her palm. He could smell the sweet musk of her arousal clinging to her fingertips. The scent only reinforced his determination to follow through on his earlier promises.

  “I can’t wait to see my dick in your mouth.” His words came out in a hoarse whisper. “Pretty lips wrapped around me. Your hot, wet tongue...” The disjointed thoughts were the best he could manage when he was this damn close. He sucked her damp finger into his mouth, closed and pulled hard as he pumped into her, lost to everything but the thought of having her in every way possible.

  “Oh...yes.”

  Her answering moan was all he needed to cut loose. His hips jerked, his movements wild and sloppy as he emptied himself into the condom. He took another finger into his mouth and sucked greedily, lapping up every ounce of essence and gulping him down. One day, he’d come inside her. He’d knock her up and watch her perfect, flat belly grow round with his baby. His entire body trembled. Whether the shakes had come from the aftershocks of his climax or the domestic direction of his thoughts, he couldn’t say. While he’d had a damn good taste, he didn’t have enough of her yet.