Page 480 of Hell Hath No Fury
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.
“First things first,” Harm said. “You are a phenomenal, and I mean, fuckin’ phenom-en-al kisser, and in my opinion, someone who kisses like thathasto be great in the sack.”
I studied his face, looking for a lie. There wasn’t one.
“Second, if he said you’re not great in bed, then he wasn’t playin’ your body right and that’s on him.” He slid his hand to my neck. “When I get you under me, you will know what it feels like to be fucked by a man, and your body will know what to do.”
I shivered, unable to keep from kissing him.
It was me who broke the connection this time and I gripped his arms. “I’ll stop in at the pharmacy tomorrow,” I promised.
He smiled. “I like that, Bryn.”
After taking a few minutes to calm ourselves, we sat up at the island and pulled out the pizza while Harm showed me the new door locks he bought.
“I thought you should go for a keypad entry. It has fingerprint identification as well as unique keycodes for whoever you choose. Bryce can never have access unless yougivehim access.” He slid the package to me.
“What about in an emergency? Can we get out?”
“Yeah, it opens from the inside without a code, so if there’s a fire or whatever, you can get out.”
“Fancy.”
Harm chuckled. “An upgrade for sure.”
“How much is that going to cost me, though?” I asked.
“Nothing.”
I paused mid-chew. “What?”
“We had one at the shop.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You just happened to have one ‘at the shop’?”
“Yeah. I’m not fuckin’ with you, Bryn. We buy shit all the time that we don’t use.”
“And no one cares that you take it?”
“I cleared it with Hatch. He’s good with it.” He smiled. “He’d like you to be safe as well.”
“Why would he care?”
“You need to understand something about Hatch. He has a pathological need to protect the people he cares about. When you meet him, you’ll find out.”
“Again, why would he care?” I pressed.
“Icare. Therefore, he cares.”
I wasn’t entirely sure I believed him, but let the matter drop. “What else is in the bag?”
“Security system.”
“Harm, I don’t have the money for a security system,” I said in frustration, sliding off my barstool and dropping my plate into the dishwasher.
“It’s part of the keypad, Bryn. It kind of all goes together.”
“Seriously?” I groaned. “Even if you give me the line that the parts fell out of the back of your shop, the labor alone to have it installed by an electrician will kill my budget.”
