“He did. Hell, he spouted Thoreau tonight. That proves he’s in a good mood.”
Harper shook her head. She adored the jockey, who spoke in broken sentences deliberately and fell into the most poetic pieces of literature and philosophy when everyone least expected it. “I can’t believe that fight story—it was epic.”
He pulled up to the house and cut the engine. “Know what else was epic?”
Her skin tingled under his hooded gaze. The air in the car thickened and sizzled. “What?”
A slow, sexy smile curved his lush lips. “The way you announced you were going to get lucky tonight.”
Heat seeped into her cheeks. The words had popped out of her mouth without apology, but the way Aidan had laughed made her confession worth the embarrassment. She tossed him a teasing glance. “Am I in trouble for assuming? Are you going to join the ladies’ sleepover to teach me a lesson?”
He leaned in. His finger trailed down her cheek, and she shuddered. His amber eyes glinted with satisfaction. “Only lesson I’m going to teach you is what happens if you make me wait too long.” He paused, letting the tension linger. “All evening I’ve fantasized about getting you out of these clothes.”
Seduction wasn’t part of her skill set. She didn’t flirt or tease or own the ability to make a man weak with desire. She’d always been more comfortable with the direct approach, mostly stripped of romance or flowery sentiments, centered straight on sex.
But Aidan made her feel like a goddess. The way he stared at her with open lust and kissed her with such possessive passion, as if trying to claim her. For the first time, she embraced her body with feminine power and confidence gained directly from the way he treated her.
For the first time, she was connecting with her sexy side, and she adored every moment.
With a low chuckle, Harper grabbed his tie and yanked him forward. Her lips paused inches from his, and she spoke each word with deliberate precision and tempting promise. “Then we better get inside fast, Irish.”
He growled and reached for her, but she’d already pulled back with a naughty wink, slipping out of the truck.
Unfortunately, instead of ripping at each other’s clothes, they had an animal menagerie to take care of first. Aidan volunteered to take them all out, and she used the time to brush her teeth, recheck her lipstick, and light some candles in the bedroom. By the time he’d reentered, she had bones ready for the dogs, tuna for Figaro, and special treats for Captain Hoof.
Aidan grabbed her hand, pulled her inside the bedroom, and shut the door.
His eyes burned like golden fire. “We’ve got about an hour before they try to bust down the door.”
She stepped close and began working at the knot of his tie. He was sexy in working clothes, but when he’d walked out of his room in a charcoal suit and red tie, she’d almost jumped him. “We can do a lot in an hour. You look smoking hot tonight.”
“And you’re fucking beautiful. When I caught sight of this beaded top, I almost cried. In a manly way, of course. But real tears.”
She choked on a laugh and began working on the buttons of his crisp white shirt. God, she loved the way he weaved humor into their physical intimacy. How could she be ready to combust from his talented fingers playing with her tight nipples, yet want to laugh with him? He seduced not only her body but her mind.
She curled her nails into the hard muscles of his abdomen as he slipped down the beaded top and played with her breasts. She was so sensitive and swollen, every tug, scrape, and teasing caress twisted her stomach in delicious knots. She managed to yank off his shirt, an appreciative groan spilling from her lips, and busied herself with touching every carved, defined muscle. Crisp chest hair tickled her fingers, and she raked her nails gently down, causing his arms to tighten around her and drag her upward, forcing her into an arch.
His hot, wet mouth closed on her nipple.
She fell into pure sensation, helpless under his ministrations. He licked at her, gathering her taste, sucked hard, then tugged carefully with his teeth. “I love your breasts,” he murmured. “Like a perfect gift just for me.”
“They’re small,” she said, hooking her leg around his hip to grind against him. A sharp tingle of pain cut through her, changing quickly into a hot stream of pleasure. “Ouch. You bit me.”
He picked up his head and gave her a hard stare. “Don’t ever talk bad about your body. It’s perfect. Just like you.”
Her chest ached with a need that practically seared her like a brand, but then his mouth took hers and there was nothing left to do but hold on for the ride.
Clothes dropped off. They fell on the bed, limbs entangled, skin to skin. His tongue buried deep with an animalistic possession she only encouraged, and she climbed on top of him like a madwoman, desperate to touch and taste every inch of his hard body.
With a groan, she yanked her mouth from his and began to work her way lower. Every hiss of his breath, tug of her hair, and curse from his lips urged her on, until she cupped his throbbing erection, stroking and squeezing the hard shaft, drunk on power and pleasure.
Her tongue snaked out to slide over her bottom lip. Her head lowered. She blew a warm breath over the tip, teasing him.
“Fuck,” he groaned, his hips thrusting up. “I need you, Harper. I need your mouth on me.”
His words held a hint of vulnerability, and she was lost. Opening her lips wide, she took him inside, sucking and licking with an urgency and tenderness she’d never experienced with a man. He buried his fingers in her hair, guiding her head, and she fell into a delicious rhythm meant to bring him to the brink.
Sensing he was moments away, she dragged the edge of her teeth down his shaft, and he exploded up from the bed, flipping her over, parting her thighs, and surging inside her in one hot, deep, perfect thrust.
His golden eyes glittered like a provoked tiger’s. Her head arched into the pillow at the complete invasion, her body squeezing tight and welcoming him back. He stayed buried to the hilt, his gaze raking over her face as if memorizing every flicker of emotion, satisfaction oozing from his pores like he’d claimed her as prey.
She reached up and pulled him down for a long, drugging kiss. “I need you,” she whispered against his lips. “Please, Aidan.”
A broken litany of Irish sang in her ears, and then he was moving, each roll of his hips and thrust of his cock shoving her to the edge of orgasm. She clung to him and begged, and then she was breaking apart and shaking with the raw, almost agonizing bliss that took over every inch of her body. He chanted her name like a mantra, teeth gritted, eyes mad with lust, and then he let himself go, pressing his forehead to hers and never breaking his gaze while she watched him orgasm.
The intimacy was too much.
A piece of her broke off and the hole widened, letting in so much light it was almost blinding. She held him tight and prayed making love with Aidan O’Connor hadn’t just destroyed her.
Minutes later, he raised his head, every muscle tight with tension. “I forgot to put on a condom.”
Her fingers were tangled in his straw-colored hair, and she paused in her caress. Dear God, she was so stupid. There was no excuse for not being careful. They weren’t a couple of sex-starved teens fighting out-of-control hormones. Her cheeks heated. “I cannot believe I did that. But I just had my yearly physical, and I’m on the pill for my period. Have been for years.”