Her Dirty Little Secret / The Marriage Clause. JC Harroway
top it.’ Lust slammed through him. A primal roar. Game on.
With a swoop from him and a tug from her their mouths collided. He manoeuvred her against the wall and kissed her, pouring every scrap of frustration into the slide and skim of lips and tongues. The surge of lust that had simmered beneath the surface since this morning at the building site flooding through him, breaking free, seeking fulfilment.
She whimpered, as if he’d held back for too long and she was as starved as him for the ferocious kisses. She palmed his cock, drawing a hiss from him, and he tugged the hem of her clingy dress, exposing bare, toned thighs. Pale and smooth—a place a man could lose himself.
She spread them, her fingers hooking into his belt loops to pull him between her legs, her hands as grabby as his, her need matching his with every stroke. He ground his erection into her, the clothing barriers hindering his goal—to get inside her and take them both over the edge. Over and over until she begged for more.
He pulled back from her hungry mouth, his gaze flicking up and down the stairs in case they were being observed. Harley kissed and nibbled a path to his neck, tonguing his earlobe until his eyes rolled back.
Was he seriously considering fucking her in a stairwell where they could be interrupted at any time by someone leaving the fashion show or someone entering from the street? Harley seemed up for anything. Her hands found his belt buckle, tugging and grappling as she returned her mouth to his.
Reality dawned.
He stilled her hands just as his phoned buzzed in his pocket. He soothed the rejection by palming her fantastic ass, pressing her centre to his hard length while he twisted away from her kiss to read the text.
‘Car’s here,’ he mumbled against her swollen lips.
Pocketing his phone, he pulled back, sliding her dress back down her shapely legs, and bit back a curse. He’d lost himself in the moment, almost fucked her in a public place.
He cupped her flushed cheeks, pushing her dishevelled hair back from her face. Her lip-gloss had vanished, her hair was tousled and her breasts, pressed against his chest, lifted and fell with her rapid pants.
She nodded once, stepping aside and tweaking her hair and her dress so she was once more the immaculate goddess.
With a flick of her blonde tresses, she followed him to the fire exit and his waiting car, where they made their escape into the night.
HARLEY HOISTED HER dress to mid-thigh and clambered astride his lap to continue the frantic, almost desperate kisses that had begun the moment the car’s doors closed. She couldn’t get enough of the chemistry that arced between them. It was as if she’d been living under water, everything dull and muted. This...lust...flared hotter than anything she’d ever known.
Combustive. Addictive. Uncontrollable.
And in this moment, she’d never wanted anything more than to pick up where they’d left off this afternoon in Jack’s apartment.
She reached between them, rubbing him through his pants until he groaned into her mouth and bared his teeth on a hiss. It wasn’t enough. She craved him naked, every inch of his magnificent body hers to explore. She yearned for him sweaty and determined above her, pushing her over the edge as she instinctively knew he could.
She didn’t give a damn about his driver, or the passing traffic. She’d had a brief taste this afternoon and she wanted more. More of what he offered. Just sex. The amazing, sheet-clawing kind.
When he’d suggested a ride home, she’d reasoned that accepting provided an opportunity to try one last time to convince him to push through the sale of the Morris Building. But honesty won. She wanted him. Plain and simple. And she wanted the orgasms he promised. Why shouldn’t she take what she could get? A fling she could walk away from, hopefully clutching the Morris contract in her hand.
They weren’t kids any more, clearly both capable of separating sex from the rest of their lives. And right now business, their pasts, their families, were the last things on her mind. A mind full to capacity with this sexy, grown-up Jack, his mouth, the rumble of his deep voice, the hard body under her exploring fingertips.
Kissing him was like kissing two different people—the teenager she’d once swooned over and the man he’d become. Familiar and foreign. Larger than life. Sexier than her wildest imaginings—more demanding, more intuitive, more everything. When combined with the hint of forbidden...she hovered close to orgasm just from kissing him alone.
The journey to her Fifth Avenue apartment was blessedly short. Just like when they were teens, Jack applied the brakes more than once during the ride, literally removing her hand from his underwear and slowing things down, where she would have ridden him in the back seat, onlookers be damned.
The touching, kissing and groping continued into her building and twice she dropped the electronic key card to her private elevator in her haste to get him upstairs and get him naked. To continue this clandestine connection behind closed doors.
Once inside the deserted car, he pressed up behind her, his erection slotted between her buttocks shooting tingles up her spine. His hand swept her hair aside, and his lips found the back of her neck, nibbling.
‘Do you live alone?’ His voice, thick with arousal, scraped over her nerve endings, speaking directly to her clit. She could barely stand upright.
When he held her hips still in his large hands, pressing himself home, she twisted her head over her shoulder to capture his mouth.
‘Yes.’
Her older brother, Ash, lived in the apartment above, but she didn’t want to stop kissing him long enough to explain that unnecessary detail.
As the elevator ascended Jack once more shimmied her dress up her thighs to her waist, his hands trailing fire along the bare skin he exposed. He reached for her hands, lifting them and curling her fingers over the brass handrail at waist height. ‘Hold on.’
She had no time to luxuriate in the thrill pounding through her at his command or what it meant. Jack dropped to his knees behind her, nudging her legs apart and kissing first one cheek of her ass in an open-mouthed caress and then the other. The scrape of his teeth skittered down the backs of her thighs and weakened her knees.
What was he doing to her? Why was she such a willing accomplice? Her breath stalled in her lungs, and she clung to the rail with enough force to ruin her manicure. But it was worth it.
With a shuffle and a sexy grunt, he manoeuvred her hips backwards so she bent over at the waist, her ass in the air. Jack slid the thong of her underwear aside and plunged his tongue inside her quivering sex.
Her cry joined his throaty groan. His fingers curled around her hips and his stubble grazed the sensitive skin between her legs. She clung to the handrail as the sensations assailed her. Jack’s raw hunger and the carnal urgency with which he took what he wanted sent thrill after thrill trickling along her spine.
Jack slipped one hand between her thighs, rubbing at her clit while he continued to plunge his tongue inside, sending jolts of fire to her toes.
She sank deeper into the sensual haze, uncaring of where she was, every nerve in her body focussed on the havoc Jack wreaked between her legs.
With a judder she couldn’t be sure originated outside her body, the elevator stopped. Harley opened her heavy eyes. The polished brass of the car’s wall reflected her image. Wanton, dishevelled, lust-drunk. There was no hiding the effect he had on her or the abandon he’d effortlessly instilled. Abandon that left her willing to partake in public sexual acts. Twice in one day.
His mouth left her and her knees wobbled. He slid her dress down and took her hand. Within seconds, they were inside her darkened apartment. A single lamp shone on the table just inside the entrance.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Jack,