Page 8 of The Owner's Temptation

That realization alone makes something tighten in my stomach.

Fuck.He only looked sexier because of it.

I bite my lip, heat curling through me as my mind driftsexactlywhere it shouldn’t.

His hands—big, warm, rough—gripping my hips.

His body pressing mine into the bar.

His mouth claiming mine—hot, hard, devouring?—

I want to keep going with this fantasy but the buzz of my apartment intercom, shatters it like glass.

“Perfect timing, Harp.”

I run a hand over my face, pulling myself together, and shuffle out of bed toward the call button.

A loud, pained groan crackles through the speaker.

"It’sme," Harper moans. "Open the damn door. I’m dying."

I smirk, pressing the button to let her in.

A minute later, she stumbles inside, sunglasses on, a bag of food in one hand and two obnoxiously large, iced coffees in the other.

"Well good morning." I fold my arms. "How are you feeling, sunshine?"

Harper flops onto my couch, groaning dramatically. "Like my soul left my body and I barely convinced it to come back. But I brought sustenance, so I expect zero judgment."

She waves the bag of food like an offering.

I snatch it immediately. "None given."

I unwrap my sandwich and take a massive bite, barely suppressing a groan as the greasy, carb-loaded goodness hits my tongue.

"So," I say through a mouthful, eyeing Harper over my coffee cup, "how was the bartender?"

Harper pushes herself up, tossing her sunglasses onto the table with a satisfied smirk. "Oh, babe,phenomenal."

I raise an eyebrow.

She stretches her arms over her head like a cat waking from a long nap. "Three orgasms.Three—and that was just round one."

I nearly choke on my coffee. "Jesus Christ."

"Oh, don’t act so scandalized. It was art. Pure, unfiltered,Michelangelo-sculpted-that-shitlevel of perfection. And he’s Italian. The tongue work?Superb.The stamina?Elite.And best of all…" She sighs dramatically. "He made me waffles afterward."

I chuckle, taking another long pull of cold coffee. "So, love at first fuck?"

She scoffs. "Please.Loveis for people who don’t have better things to do. I’m just saying, if I ever get a commemorative plaque for outstanding life achievements,last nightis going on there."

Harper finally takes a bite of her own sandwich. "And, lucky for you," she pauses for a drink, "he has a friend."

"As most people do,"

Harper grins. "Aremostpeople members of the nine-story sex club where they work?"

Reaching into her purse, pulling out two silver coins, she tosses them onto my glass coffee table with a soft clink.

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