He quiets me by slipping his tongue in my mouth, and any self-preservation I have is gone. I want him, and asking me to wait any longer is like telling a bear not to lick the honey.
I slide my hand in his pants, stroking his erection and holding his head firmly to my mouth.
He groans my name, closing his eyes.
I lick his neck.
“We have to stop,” he mumbles then ravishes my mouth some more.
“Why?”
“Because it’s important to me.”
I freeze.
“Let me take you on a date, Harper.” Heat and determination swirl in his blue eyes. And it’s clear if I push him, he’s going to feel guilty and regret our time together.
I release my grip on his erection and slide my hand out of his pants. “Okay.”
He kisses me again.
“Now you’re sending me mixed messages,” I mumble then flick my tongue in his mouth some more.
He chuckles, pulls back, and looks at his watch. “We have six hours. Let’s go.” He rises and pulls me off the bed.
“Do I get to freshen up and make myself date presentable?”
“Nope, you already are.”
I look down at my jeans and T-shirt then wince. “I’m not very fancy.”
“Who said I’m taking you anywhere fancy? I think we dressed up enough this weekend, don’t you?”
“You have on a button-down shirt.”
His eyes flicker with amusement. It’s the first time I’ve seen it. He unbuttons his shirt.
“More mixed messages,” I tease while trying to not drool at his perfectly sculpted torso.
“I’ll wear a T-shirt.”
“Or you can go in just your jeans,” I suggest.
He grins and cups my face and gives me another panty melting kiss. “You’re cute.”
“You’re a tease.”
He chuckles and limps over to the closet and comes back in a gray, formfitting T-shirt.
He’s hot no matter what he wears.
“I think it’s time you experienced Chicago,” he says.
“Where are we going?”
“I’m hungry. Are you?”
“I could eat.”
“Are you picky?”
“Nope. Feed me.”
“Let’s go be tourists.”
“Tourists?”
“Yep. Since I grew up here, I’ve never done it before.”
“What about your legs?”
“Don’t worry.”
“But—”
“I’ll take an ice bath tonight if they’re bad and skip my workout tomorrow morning.”
“Oh, such a rebel,” I tease.
He kisses me again and leads me to the street. The fall air is crisp, and the sun shines bright. I put my hand over my eyes.
“Think we need sunglasses today.”
“Mine are at Jamison’s. Should we go back and get yours? I can run up if you want to save your legs?”
“Nope.” He opens the door to a shop and motions for me to go in.
We spend several minutes picking out a pair of sunglasses and then he guides me to a section of hats. “I think we want a hat for later today.”
“What for?”
“You’ll see.” He grabs a gray hat with Chicago embroidered on it in pink and puts it over my head. “Looks good. What do you think?”
“Fits nice, but I think I might die in New York if I ever wear it there.”
Something passes in his eyes, but I don’t know what to make of it. He chooses a similar cap for himself in red in black. He puts it on then removes it.
“Hey, you look hot in that! You should get it.”
“I am.” He takes my hat off my head and sunglasses out of my hand. He goes to the counter and pays for our items.
Guilt I’m out again and don’t even have a penny on me spreads quick.
He’s going to think you’re a total gold digger.
Steven has the cashier remove the tags and labels, and as soon as we step outside, I say, “Thanks. I’ll pay you back when we get to Jamison’s tonight.”
“Why would I want you to do that?”
My chest tightens. “It’s not fair to you. I didn’t have money when we were at Club D the other night, either.”
He squints. “Harper, can we not do this?”
“What?”
“We’re on a date. Even if we weren’t, I wouldn’t let you pay. It’s not in my blood nor is it negotiable.”
I take a shaky breath.
He steps forward, holds my head, and kisses the curve of my neck and then ear, before murmuring, “Can we get back to our date now?” His breath seeps into my skin, and I inhale his leather, roasted almond, and lavender scent while he continues frolicking on my neck.
My loins burst back into flames. “Mm-hmm.”
“Good answer.” He places my glasses and hat on me, puts on his, then laces his fingers with mine. He kisses my hand and tingles run up my arm.
I didn’t notice his car waiting on the side of the street, but he leads me across the road, and we get in.
“Billy Goat Tavern,” he says.
“Is that the place John Belushi had a skit about on Saturday Night Live?”
He grins. “You know it?”
“Yes. I love that episode. My dad had it on video when we were kids and watched it all the time. Have you been there before?”
“Yep. It’s the one touristy thing every Chicagoan has done.”
“Well, I’m excited.”
“Good.”
Within minutes, the car stops. Steven leads me down a flight of stairs. There’s a red door with a goat on it and Butt In Anytime. Steven holds the door open, and I step into what would be considered a stereotypical hole-in-the-wall restaurant.
An employee with a triangular white hat and matching button-down shirt is screaming, “Cheezborger, cheezborger, cheezborger.”
There’s a line of people almost to the door. A big sign reads, Billy Goat Tavern, Enter At Your Own Risk. Red barstools sit under a white counter attached to the wall. Wooden tables fill the rest of the space.
We get to the front and order cheeseburgers, chips, and beers. The restaurant is full, and we find two empty barstools.
“Mmm, just what I love after a night of too much alcohol consumption.” I take a bite of the greasy burger.
“So true,” Steven says.
“And to bite the hair on the dog and have a bit more.” I hold my cold beer out. “Cheers.”
He clinks mine, and we both take a long drink.
“What would you be doing if you were in New York right now?”
“I usually go to yoga with Quinn and then visit Hope for a few hours. Sometimes I hang out with Anna, but it depends on what Mitch wants to do.”
“She can do so much better than that dick.” He takes another bite.
“Yep, he’s a twatwaffle.”
Steven chokes on his burger. “What does that mean?”
“You haven’t heard of twatwaffle before?”
“Nope, can’t say I have.”
“It means idiot.”
He grunts. “That fits Mitch. Why is she with him?”
“Love is blind, and she loves him,” I meekly offer.