Page 81 of Butter My Biscuit

“I should go,” he says, adjusting his suit.

“I won’t stop you, Harrison. But know that when you walk out that door, you will be leaving behind your verylastopportunity to ever be with me like this again. Because you enacted the deal. I don’t break promises to you.” I lick my lips, wanting to kiss him again, wanting to forget about forever and enjoy the moment, theright now. “Let history remember that I’m not the one denyingyou. It’s the other way around.”

His gaze moves from my eyes and down to my mouth before back to my eyes. Then, he takes several steps until he’s standing inches from me.

“I’m fucked either way,” he whispers. “And if it’s already the end, then I don’t want to regret a thing.”

“Then, don’t.”

Our desperation burns hotter than it did when we walked in. Maybe because we know it’s already the end. The inevitable has already happened. It might be my record.

Emotions flood through me, and we’re on each other like we might not survive through the night. He carefully peels off the green top, and I slide out of my skirt.

He gives himself space to look over every inch of me, and I feelpretty. He’s the only man who’s ever looked at me like he knows my worth and added tax.

When his mouth returns to mine, we take several steps backward until I’m falling onto the couch. I laugh, unbuttoning his shirt as he takes it off. He hovers above me, dipping down to pull my bottom lip into his mouth.

A delicious growl releases from the back of his throat, and I want nothing more than for him tobutter my biscuit.

I tuck my fingers inside his suit pants, the suit that is my damn kryptonite, tugging him forward and unbuckling his belt. Harrison pulls it through all the loops, then drops it to the ground in a clash. His heated gaze marks the trail where his fingers will touch, and I revel in being with him like this again.

“One last time,” he confirms, pulling me to my feet.

With both hands cupping my face, he leans in and kisses me, then pulls me against his chest. We slowly dance and kiss to the rhythm of our breaths and beating hearts. Slowly, he spins me around but drinks every drop of me in. Then, I turn back to him, leading him to my room.

He stops at the doorway, standing with his arm resting at the top as he watches me crawl onto the bed. His suit pants hang on his waist, and that sexy V points down to my new favorite part of him.

When my eyes scroll down his body, I try to memorize every hard muscle that looks like it’s been carved from stone. He’s a Southern statue without one imperfection. As if he could read my mind, his lips curve up slightly, and if I’d blinked, I’d have missed it.

I should stop this right now.

I should cut my losses while I’m ahead.

Even he knew we should’ve walked away when he had the chance, and now, I’m scared we’re already addicted. The selfish part inside me wants him and knows we could be good together, but my fear cripples me.

Sex complicates relationships—it’s a fact. What we have is incredible without that.

Harrison flicks off the light, and I watch him walk toward me in the darkness. The moonlight splashes rays through the window, giving his mesmerizing body a cool glow as I look up at him like he’s an archangel. Tonight, I hope he’ll break me in unspeakable ways.

He crawls onto the mattress and tucks hair behind my ear. Then, he worships every inch of my body. His strong hands memorize my breasts and hips and ass. I’m everything with him and nothing without him as he brings me to the edge, nearly tipping me over until I’m panting, swearing for my release. I need him so bad that my body nearly quivers as he hovers above me; loose, messy hair falling into his face.

Mr. Perfect is my best friend. And even though being with him intimately is wrong, it feels so goddamn right. We fit together like two puzzle pieces, our curves snapping together. And as we make love, the night plays out like a silent film, without words, in black and white, under the blue light of the moon.

He slams into me, and when I finally come, I see stars. My body reaches maximum ecstasy as the orgasm rips through me, destroying me, bulldozing me down to nothing. I scream out his name as he gives me every thick inch of him, and I need him like summer needs rain.

The panic of losing him bubbles again—a reminder of why we can’t continue this. But even so, no matter what, we can never take back tonight or undo what we’ve done. The damage has been done, and the memory has been implanted, next to all the others that revolve around him.

“Fuck,” he groans out as I roll him over onto his back, slide a condom on him, then go for a ride.

I whip my head back, and he gently tugs my long hair as I slide up and down him.

My ass slaps against his thighs, and our moans fill the space. He reaches up, sucking one of my nipples while palming my other breast. Every carved muscle tenses as my second greedy orgasm creeps up and takes control. Harrison has me gasping for air as I scream, bucking on top of him. He growls out when he violently loses himself, gripping my ass with his strong hands as I ride it out.

I meet his blue eyes that are full of passion and want.

“Save a horse. Ride a Valentine,” I whisper.

Calling it quits is to save our friendship, the only stable thing in my life. I can’t lose him among everything else.

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