Bliss.
Perfection.
His width stretched and filled her. But the feeling wasn’t just physical. She was sure he’d also seeped into her soul. Warming the cold places. Soothing the anger that always seemed present.
His lips took hers in a rapturous assault. The room was spinning, and he was her anchor. She tightened her legs around him and again felt his hand between her breasts.
“Lean back,” came the rasped order.
Her arms refused to hold her, and she fell to her elbows, vaguely aware Harvard was holding her weight so that she didn’t hurt herself. Her head fell back and her eyes closed, her focus on the feeling of him moving inside her.
She felt his mouth on her breast, nipping, licking, sucking. It was all too much.
“You can handle it,” he said before resuming his glorious possession.
A hand splayed low on her body, his thumb angled over her clit. A long moan escaped as he gently strummed that bundle of nerves while moving inside her and teasing her breasts.
It was like nothing she’d ever felt. This was no fumble in the dark as she’d experienced as a teen. And far removed from the empty encounters she’d attempted as an adult but had been unable go through with. This was something else. Something much more. Playing her body like a virtuoso, he was taking her over. Speaking to her with his touch.
Making love.
And she felt the chains around her heart loosen. Then one by one, they broke and fell away until all but a few were gone. She’d never survive this. He was changing her, inside and out. And she wasn’t sure if she was desperate for it or terrified.
The tension in her body grew, building to a crescendo, taking her higher and higher until she rode atop a wave of such vast proportions that it almost overwhelmed her. Secure in his arms. In his touch. In his care.
“Give it to me, Rachel,” he growled the words.
His thumb pressed on her clit. His length surged inside of her. And the wave broke with her cry, “Michael.”
Strong arms enfolded her as she floated away.
In the back of her mind, a breath of a voice whispered, So this is love. And then it was gone, as though it’d never been there to begin with.
Chapter Seventeen
By the time they reached the TayFor offices, Rachel was back to acting like she hardly knew Harvard. Which wasn’t a surprise. Retreating behind a wall of ice was how she coped with change. All he could do was wait her out. Just as well he had an abundance of patience.
“I’ll be in the security room looking at footage with Ryan if you need me,” he told her once he was sure her office was secure and there were no more nasty photos waiting for her.
“I won’t need you.” She turned her attention to the open laptop in front of her, dismissing him.
With an amused shake of his head, Harvard closed the door on her. “Got anything for me?” he asked Elle, who was busy at her desk.
“You mean apart from being glad the bet’s off?” She pointed at his throat. “That hickey would have cost me fifty pounds.”
He wasn’t embarrassed. “A hickey isn’t evidence of sex.”
“It is with Rachel. That wouldn’t be there unless she’d decided to let you have access. Trust me, I know the woman. It’s all or nothing with her.”
He hoped so, because he wanted everything. “What’ve you got from the photos so far?”
Blue hair bobbed as she let out an exasperated sigh. “Nothing. No prints, no DNA that’s of any use. I’m running them through a digital analysis program. The computer might find something in the images that we can’t see. But I have to be honest; I’m not holding out a helluva lot of hope. Which pisses me off no end. These guys shouldn’t be able to get away with this.”
“They won’t.” He had to believe that as long as the blackmailer was communicating with them, they’d leave some clue as to who they were dealing with. Everybody slipped up at some point. It was just a matter of patience.
For years, his friends had joked about his endless patience. Between Rachel and these investigations, they were about to find out just how much he had to go around.
“Harry called me at the crack of dawn, so I stopped off at the shop on my way to work and got you this.” Elle handed him a bag with a sportswear logo. “It’s a protective cup—I had to guess your size.” She grinned. “If you wear it all the time, it should offer some defense against Rachel when she finds out you involved Harry. Of course, it won’t save you from her putting your balls in a vise while you sleep.”
“Thanks for the nightmares.”
“Just calling it how I see it.”
Harvard handed back the bag. “As much as I appreciate you thinking of me, I don’t want to go walking through the building with it.”
She patted the bag before stuffing it in her desk drawer. “It’s here when you need it. Which should be very soon. Because Harry’s on his way.”
“When’s he due to arrive?”
“Around lunchtime. I’ve set up his cover as working with the company that installed the server. He’s coming in under the pretense of doing some routine maintenance.” She frowned. “I haven’t clued in the head of security about his arrival. Terrance thinks this is a legitimate job.”
Harvard focused in on her, reading the non-verbal clues, just as he’d been trained. Weighing them with her words to get the whole story. “Is there a reason you’re keeping him in the dark?”
A gentle pink stain covered her cheeks. “I don’t like him.”
And from the looks of things, it was way more than simple dislike. Elle was suspicious of the man; she just didn’t know why, and that meant she couldn’t put it into words. It was instinct. One she obviously wasn’t used to listening to. But Harvard had learned never to underestimate his own instincts or those of the people around him.
“He doesn’t need to know,” he assured her. “The investigation into Rachel’s past has nothing to do with the job he’s been briefed on. It’s a good idea to keep it that way.”
Her shoulders slumped a fraction, signaling relief. “Do you want me to come down to security with you to look over the footage from outside West Building?”
“Not right now. Ryan and I can narrow it down. We’ll call you in when we find something.” He grinned at her. “Then you can do your magic and clean up the images enough to, hopefully, get us something to go on. Sooner we close this investigation, sooner we can focus on more important stuff.”
“Like wooing Rachel?” She waggled her eyebrows at Harvard.
“Yeah, and eliminating the threat to her.”
Elle nodded solemnly. “That too.”
Glancing back at Rachel’s door, he lowered his voice. “Keep an eye on her. Don’t let her out of your sight. I don’t like that someone was able to get close enough to slip a photo into her handbag. If she goes to the restroom, you follow. If she bitches—and she will—tell her it’s the team leader’s orders.”
“If I tell her that, you can definitely kiss goodbye to a repeat of whatever you did to get that hickey. Just saying.”
“Don’t worry about me. I can handle Rachel.”