Her Dirty Little Secret / The Marriage Clause. JC Harroway
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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, leaving her side long enough to carefully place the designer lamp on the floor.
Hormones pounded Harley, fogging her mind. ‘Why?’ Had he changed his mind? And why was he shifting the light fitting?
His mouth covered hers once more, tongue delving as his hands tugged the dress back up. He broke free, a fierce look on his face. Harsh need. A thrilling wildness.
‘Because the first time’s going to be right here.’ He indicated the table and a fresh wave of moisture slicked her panties. He shucked his jacket, tossing it to the floor, working his belt free with one hand while he scooped the other around her waist and kissed the breath from her.
Harley’s lust-addled mind caught up with dizzying euphoria, and she couldn’t help him quickly enough, dropping her purse and lifting the dress all the way up and overhead. An ominous tearing sound accompanied her efforts, but she tossed the garment without ceremony, desperate now to have Jack inside her. No more skirting around. The hard length of him through his clothing...she wanted him. Now.
‘Fuck.’ He paused to cup one breast through the lace of her bra, his thumb tracing the nipple as his eyes devoured every inch of skin. Then she was airborne, Jack’s hands splayed around her waist lifting her onto her antique hall table.
They were wild for each other. Her hands fumbling alongside his to free his erection, her lips clinging to his, tongues duelling and her thighs holding him captive. She’d get what she wanted this time. No more unfinished business.
With a grunt, he tore his mouth from hers, pulling his wallet from his pocket, locating a condom and tossing the rest over his shoulder. He tore into the foil with his teeth, sheathing himself while his hot stare toured her splayed-out body clothed only in scanty black lace and four inch heels.
Harley worked on his shirt buttons, ignoring the mild discomfort of being perched on the table, desperate to see more of him. To touch every inch of him. To feel the spring of his chest hair on her face and the taut ridges of muscle under her fingers.
She’d barely pushed the fabric over the rounded contours of his ripped shoulders exposing his well-defined pecs and a glimpse of rigid abs when he circled his arm around her hips and tugged her ass to the edge of the table. Clearly Jack was as close to his limit as she was.
‘This needs to go.’ He tugged at the filmy black thong, scraping it down her thighs with impatience and a look of fierce concentration on his handsome face. Halfway down her legs he stopped dead, his mouth grim but eyes hot.
Harley stopped breathing. Her pulse thundered in her ears. Please don’t let him change his mind; leave her hanging here on the edge of ecstasy.
But