Page 6 of Bargain with the Bachelor
Featuring a circular ceiling painting of Aphrodite, it had once belonged to the lady of the house, one of the Vanderbilt heirs. Turning right at the top of the stairs, I tiptoed down the long hallway as anticipation turned my stomach into a bouncy house.
Finally reaching the room, I checked up and down the hallway once more, just to be sure I hadn’t been spotted.
Then I pushed open the door, stepped inside, and flicked off the light switch, glimpsing Harry’s dark hair and the back of his tux before everything went pitch black. He must have been eager too. He’d beaten me here.
He uttered a sound of surprise at the sudden blackout.
“It’s me,” I assured him. “Where are you? Come here.”
Reaching blindly, I grasped the air in front of me. My fingers came into contact with smooth fabric, the lapels of an expensive tuxedo jacket.
Harry’s taste for the finer things in life was almost as refined and insatiable as Margot’s.
“Mmmm… you feel as good as you look tonight,” I murmured, gliding my hands up and down the outside of the jacket, admiring the solid contours of the hard chest and torso underneath.
Harry had clearly been working out more than usual.
He didn’t speak, just stood there and let me caress him, his breathing accelerated and enticingly audible in the quiet room. Then with a soft grunt, he slid his arms around me, pressing his palms against the small of my back and pulling me close.
I let out a surprised laugh and inhaled, getting an intoxicating whiff of the masculine scent he was wearing.
New cologne too. Yum. Mr. McAllen hasreallyupped his game.
I’d missed this—the closeness, the excitement of being with him in a romantic way, the comfort of human touch. It felt like weeks since he’d held me in his arms. Maybe it had been. I’d been so distracted with my father’s care, it was hard to remember.
But I wasn’t distracted tonight. I was completely focused on him and completely turned on.
The darkness had been an excellent idea. It made me braver than I usually was.
“Let’s see if youkissas good as you feel,” I whispered and slipped my fingers around the back of his hard-muscled neck, rising up on tiptoe to press my lips to his.
At first, he failed to respond as expected, going stock-still and letting me take the lead in the kiss.
But after a few seconds, he got with the program—big time. He made a sort of gruff, growly noise and leaned into the kiss, sinking one of his big hands into my hair to grasp my nape, taking control.
His mouth moved with mine in heated, luscious strokes, the fervency of his kisses escalating in a steady ascent that drew me right along with it. His other hand left my back and came up to cradle my jaw with a tenderness that brought tears to the corners of my eyes.
Whatwas happening? Within moments of touching me, Harry was drawing feelings from me I’d never experienced in my life.
He had never kissed me like this before, and until now, I hadn’t been aware of how much I’d craved it.
It was the intensity, the focus, the sheeremotionbehind the kisses that made them more potent than anything I’d ever known.
I wasn’t a big drinker, and I’d never tried any sort of illicit drugs, but suddenly I understood the allure of addictive substances. I couldn’t get enough.
Though we were in a public venue with scores of other people, and I could hear the low hum of their distant chatter as well as the faint strains of live music, this room felt like a world apart, our own secret hideaway.
Part of my mind was aware the door could open at any moment, exposing our private tryst to the world, but I couldn’t seem to dredge up any real concern. I was suspended in some sort of alternate state… weightless, boneless, powerless against the hypnotic spell Harry had cast over me tonight.
The subtle sense of the forbidden seemed to be working for him as well because he pulled me even tighter, large hands spanning my waist and back, enclosing me in his strong grip and drawing my lower body against oneveryimpressive erection.
In fact, I’d never felt him this hard for me. Or this big.
No workout in the world could achievethatkind of result—it had to be the long dry spell that had him super-sized and raring to go.
His kisses deepened, turning sultry and slow, and my insides melted like cheap candle wax. I’d never imagined lips, teeth, and tongues could produce this much pleasure. When he brought a hand up to cup my breast and coast his thumb over the sensitive tip, the pleasure soared to an even higher level. It wastoomuch.
I made a little noise—a whimper for him to stop? A plea to go on? I wasn’t really sure.
