The Wedding Date Disaster (Harbor City 4)

An hour ago, Hadley would have known exactly what to do in this situation. She would have walked away with a cutting remark and one single triumphant look back. But now? She wasn’t going anywhere. Desire, warm and demanding, had her bare nipples puckering beneath the dress as she felt the back of his knuckles skim down the length of her spine at a leisurely pace that stole the air from her lungs, not stopping until he brushed the scalloped edge of her panties, sending a shiver of lust over her.

It was all she could do to stay upright as a languorous warmth flooded her body. Holy hell, she clenched her eyes shut and inhaled a deep breath in a desperate attempt to remember why this was a bad idea. But when she opened her eyes again, she found him looking back at her in the mirror, and all her best intentions melted away.

He raised an eyebrow in question, his fingers hovering over the edges of her open dress. One shake of her head and she knew he’d walk away. Both of them would act as if this moment had never happened—as much as that would be possible. It’s what she should do, because despite whatever was going on now, she knew Will Holt wasn’t for her.

They weren’t potential lovers. They weren’t friends. They barely tolerated each other. Yet here she was, practically burning with want and nodding her consent.

There weren’t words or an acknowledgment; he simply used the slightest touch to nudge the dress off her shoulders and down over her hips until it pooled on the floor. His sharp intake of breath thundered in the small bathroom as he reached around and cupped her bare breasts with his strong hands. The last bit of her hesitation faded away when he took her nipples between his fingers and rolled the hard peaks, tugging them lightly and sending pleasure shooting through her—the kind that made her knees buckle as she bit down on her bottom lip.

She planted her palms on the sink to help keep her balance under the blissful torture. There was just something about watching him tease her with slow, sure movements as they stood silently in front of the mirror that knocked her off balance, sped up her pulse, and left her yearning for more. It had to be the strangeness of the situation. It couldn’t be because of Will; that wasn’t even something she could consider.

It was just a case of right moment, wrong man—one with magical hands.

She’d just about gotten a handle on how fucking good it felt to have him touching her, sending the best kind of little shocks from her nipples to her clit, when he leaned down and kissed the spot right behind her ear, moving with deliberate intent down the side of her throat. Electric desire sizzled along her skin as he kissed and licked and sucked and nipped his way down to where her shoulder met her neck. That, in addition to the way he was tweaking her nipples, was exactly the kind of world-tilting teasing that had her holding on to the sink so she wouldn’t slide off the side of the earth into oblivion.

He lifted his head, and the mix of intense lust and surprised wonder on his face as he looked at her in the mirror knocked her back to rights. What in the hell was she doing? This was Will Holt. He was the worst. They couldn’t stand each other. She should stop things now and—

The tips of his fingers glided down her stomach, not stopping until he brushed the edge of her panties. Anticipation whipped through her. This wasn’t a good idea—but she nodded anyway. And when his fingers slid under the elastic band, she promised herself this wouldn’t change anything.

…

Will hadn’t walked into the bathroom with any plan beyond helping with Hadley’s zipper. He’d never meant to touch her silky skin, feel the way she responded to his touch, or let things get to the point where she was all but naked and he was sliding his fingers between her legs. God, she was soft and slick and so ready for him. And the look on her face when he circled her clit? The raw, honest desire was the hottest thing he’d ever seen.

He could watch her like this the whole night, take her right up to the edge and then back off. “Tempting” didn’t even begin to cover it, but he was a greedy bastard and he wanted more. He wanted to watch her come.

Fingers slick with her, he moved against her, keeping rhythm with the rocking of her hips and the tightening of her body in anticipation. He lowered his mouth to her neck, kissing and nipping his way up to her ear, taki

ng note of each time her breath caught, every barely perceptible sigh escaping her lips, and exactly how tight her grip on the sink became as her body moved closer and closer to that edge. And when he circled her clit again with two fingers, pressing with just enough pressure to make her bite down on her full bottom lip, she collapsed back against him.

Reaching behind her, she slid her hands between them, gripping his hard cock through his jeans. His entire body stiffened, and he let out a desperate hiss, the quiet sound booming in the otherwise silent bathroom. His gaze locked with hers in the mirror. She tugged her lip between her teeth and shot him a challenging, teasing look as she squeezed him tight.

Fuck. That’s how she wanted to do this? Two could play at that.

He increased the speed of his fingers, sliding through her wet folds and circling her swollen clit, getting her right to the edge and pulling back. By the time he stopped a third time, a flush stained her cheeks and she had a wild, desperate look in her eyes. Before he knew what she was about, she turned so she was facing him and she was unzipping his fly. His jeans were halfway down his thighs before his brain could catch up, and by the time it did, it was too late. He yanked his wallet out of his back pocket and took out a condom. While he rolled it on, Hadley turned back around and placed her hands on the sink again. What an inviting sight. If there was anything that could tear him away from watching her in the mirror, it was seeing his hands gripping her hips as he lined himself up. Sliding inside her, he ground his molars together, desperate to keep it together longer than a few short thrusts.

He would have stayed still inside her for longer if he could have, but she was too tight, too warm, too fucking perfect. He had to move. Thrusting forward, he sank into her before pulling back and doing it again and again. There weren’t any words, but they didn’t need any. She met him halfway on each advance, and when he reached around in front of her and dragged his finger over her clit, she responded by gripping him so tight, he nearly came on the spot.

“Say my name.” The demand came out rough and hard. It wasn’t fair to ask things of her when she was on the edge of her climax, but he needed her to say it. He needed to know she wasn’t thinking of Web while getting off on his dick. “Say it.”

“Will,” she said, half begging and half demanding more.

That was all he needed to hear. He’d give it to her—everything she wanted in this moment, it was hers. Finger circling her clit, he thrust inside her, fucking her in a slow, steady rhythm that had her quaking in his arms before she came hard enough that he had to catch her with an arm around her waist so she didn’t collapse onto the floor.

It was all he could do not to fall over the edge with her right then, no matter that he wanted to extend the moment—delay falling back into who they were to each other outside of that door. But he was too close, and when she squeezed his cock in the aftershock of her orgasm, he knew the battle was lost. He thrust into her slick warmth, once, twice, three times, burying himself as deep as he could go before coming, his jaw clenched tight to muffle the sound.

Watching her in the mirror as he came back down from that high, the unspoken hint of possibility hanging in the air, he took in all of her—the rosy pink of her nipples, the tangle of her long brown hair, the full, round curve of her hips—and wondered if maybe he’d been missing what was right in front of him all along.

He opened his mouth to say something—anything—but that’s when he glanced over at the mirror and saw her staring right at him. There was no missing the regret in her big brown eyes. It sliced through him, sharp as a serrated knife, shredding whatever he thought could have been.

Silent as he’d been since he unzipped her dress, he stepped back, breaking their connection, and moved over so she had a clear path to the door. “Just give me a second to clean up.”

“Yeah, of course.” She scooped up her clothes, not looking at him, and walked out. “Take your time. I’m all done in here.”

Yeah. He just bet she was.

He shut the bathroom door behind her, turned on the shower, and got in before it even had a chance to warm up. Right now, he needed the frigid water to beat against him so he’d stop feeling her soft skin. Then he’d be able to block out the memory of how she trembled right before she came, her fingers gripping the sink like it was a lifeline. He’d be able to see the reality of the situation. Life was transactional. His grandmother. Mia. Hadley. None of it meant anything to them; it was just a means to an end.

Closing his eyes, he stepped fully underneath the icy downpour and didn’t even flinch. Fuck. He was so damn tired of it all.