My Prerogative Page 17

  He lowered his head and claimed her lips. He hadn’t been able to say all he wanted to say with words, but he could do it this way.

  Kelsey stiffened, holding herself away from him for just a second before she melted. Her lips parted and she opened, welcoming him. Heat swept through him, his body tightening with need, again, as her arms wrapped around him. She dug her fingers into him and pulled him close, almost purring into his mouth. Small hands slid down his back and cupped his ass, pulling him closer to her as fingers dug into his bare skin.

  Until that moment he’d forgotten he was still naked. Kelsey’s hand traveled over his hip, seeking out his hard-on, and he stepped back, a rumbling groan rolling out of him.

  He grabbed her hand before she grabbed him. “You have to go to work, sexy girl.”

  Her bottom lip thrust out and he fought back a grin. He swatted her on the ass and walked backward, away from her, toward the shower.

  “If you come knock on my door when you get home from work, I’ll give you a treat,” he called out over his shoulder.

  “Promises, promises.”

  He stopped ten feet away from her and turned. His voice deepened and he pinned her with his gaze, making sure she saw the open desire in them. “If you’ll remember correctly, I’m very good at keeping my promises.”

  Color crept up her cheeks at that reminder. “Yes, you are. I’ll see you after work then.”

  She left and he went to the window to watch her cross the street, the spring in her step putting one in his heart. They were in a relationship, even if Kelsey couldn’t admit it to herself.

  31

  The next day I rolled out of bed around noon, with energy to spare. It was weird. After work I’d parked in my normal spot behind my building, and then walked over to Harlan’s. He’d answered the door all rumpled and warm from bed, and proceeded to heat me up over and over again. After dozing in his arms for a bit while I recovered, I’d left him still asleep to come home and crawl into my own bed.

  I figured after spending all night awake I’d sleep all day, but it wasn’t to be. With maybe four hours of sleep I was wide awake and trying to find ways to keep myself busy so I wouldn’t stop to think too hard. The apartment was spotless and I was wiping down the last shelf in the fridge when the phone rang. I grabbed it without looking at the caller ID.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello there, sexy girl. How are you this morning?”

  I glanced at the clock and grinned. “It’s almost two in the afternoon, Harlan. Are you just waking up? Did I wear you out last night?”

  His chuckle echoed over the phone and my insides warmed. I left the kitchen and walked through the living room to the balcony. The sun was shining, and the air was fresh.

  “You didn’t even come close to wearing me out,” he said. “You’re the one who passed out after only three orgasms.”

  “It was four orgasms.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I grinned, proud. “Yes, I’m sure.”

  The banter was nice. More than nice, it confirmed that the strange connection we had was more than physical.

  An idea struck. “What are you doing this afternoon?” I asked.

  “I just finished up a meeting with my agent, and I was thinking I might do some more work. What are you doing this afternoon?”

  “I’m craving some real food, so I’m going to go grocery shopping.”

  “Real food?” The dubious note in his voice had me giggling. Giggling!

  “As opposed to the microwave dinners and fast food I normally feed myself with.”

  “Ahh. Gotcha.”

  Before I could second-guess the urge, I opened my mouth and the words spilled out. “Do you want to come over for dinner before I go to work?”

  “Just tell me when to show up.” His voice was full of warm affection and it chased my morning-after fretfulness away with ease.

  I left the apartment ten minutes later and headed to the market. I had no idea what I was going to make, but I loved to play in the kitchen, especially when I had someone besides myself to feed. Something would jump out at me once I was in the store.

  Sure enough, when I walked through the produce aisle the fresh fruit called to me and an image of cold salads and dips popped into my head. After all, it was a summer afternoon, and the fact that dips could be just as tasty on skin as on food didn’t enter my mind at all. Nope, not even when I was sure to get caramel and chocolate for the fruit.

  I was slicing fruit and singing along with Pink when Harlan ar-rived. He strode into the apartment and didn’t hesitate. I’d barely closed the door behind him when he pinned me to the wall and covered my mouth with his.

  Tongues danced and bodies rubbed as my knees went weak and juices began to flow. I cupped his firm ass and pulled him tight to me, sighing at the instant heat that flared between us.

  Harlan lifted his head, and breathing heavy, he stepped back. “Hello.”

  “Wow,” I said. “I like the way you say hello.”

  His lips twitched and he shook his head. “You really are a greedy girl, aren’t you?”

  Heat flared in my chest and crept up my neck, and I ducked my head before I caught myself. When I lifted my chin and looked at Harlan, it was clear by the serious expression on his face that he’d seen my instinctive reaction.

  “Do you remember what I said?” he asked.

  I searched my mind. “I remember a few things.”

  “I told you to see me, and to let me see you.” He leaned down and kissed me gently. “Don’t ever be ashamed of how we make each other feel, or what we might do to, or for, each other.”

  Then he grabbed my hand and pulled me into the kitchen. “Now feed me,” he said with a grin. “I’m hungry.”

  I spooned up pasta salad with fresh veggies and a light dressing I’d made myself, and grilled chicken breasts. Nothing fancy, but definitely tasty. Harlan sat at the table and watched me, smiling but not saying anything, and surprisingly, the silence was comfortable.

  Working as a bartender had me in and out at strange hours. I slept when most people worked, and worked when most people partied. Part of my job was to make sure that when people partied at Risqué, they had a good time. That meant I was always “on” when I was there. I smiled, I flirted, I spun bottles and tossed them in the air as I made their drinks. Most of the time I loved it, but because it could be so energy sucking, I enjoyed my alone time just as much.

  I needed that alone time to recharge my batteries and be able to perform when at work. It was why I liked to take off and go lie on a beach somewhere every few months. It was why the only time I had visitors in my apartment was when I brought someone home to fuck. And it was why I never let them stay the night. Yet, as I prepared the plates for Harlan and myself, I wasn’t the least bit tense or uncomfortable. Warmth eased through my system and settled over my heart.

  It felt strangely right to have him in my home.

  When I sat down across from him with the food, conversation came easy. I don’t even remember what we talked about. Silly stuff that had me smiling and blushing.

  After the meal was finished I glanced at the clock and noted I still had two hours before I had to be at work. Perfect.

  I pulled a plate of already cut fruit out of the fridge, and put the small bowls of sauce in the microwave for thirty seconds. I wanted them warm, but not hot.

  “What are you up to?” Harlan asked when I set the fruit on the table and smiled at him.

  “What?” I said innocently. “I made dessert too.”

  “Uh-huh.” He sat back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. “I know that look in your eye, and I’m pretty sure it’s not hunger . . . for food anyway.”

  I pulled the sauces out of the microwave and set them on the table with a wink. “Which would you prefer on your dessert, sir, chocolate or caramel?”

  He didn’t even look at the fruit. Harlan stood and immediately dipped a finger into the caramel, then swiped it across
the swell of my breasts. “I think I like caramel.”

  Wrapping his hands around my waist he lifted until I was on the table, and then stepped between my thighs. Dessert was better than I could’ve imagined, and I was late for work.

  The rest of the week flew by. My afternoons were full of meetings with Lacey and Lena for party preparation, and after work, my nights were full of Harlan. Each night, I’d park in the lot behind my own building, and think about my big bed upstairs . . . and my feet would take me across the street where Harlan was usually warm and sleepy—and naked—in bed.

  He was following the no-pressure track he’d mentioned, and I was starting to accept that we made a good couple. It was freaky that we fit together so well, so quickly. Harlan was an adventurous and attentive lover, not once making me feel too horny or too demanding. Even better, he didn’t suffocate me, or bitch about the way I was never there when he woke up in the morning.

  Strangely enough, some of the best times with him were just lying in his arms, both of us awake, but not really saying much. Being with him was just that easy and comfortable.

  “Man, you so need to get laid.”

  I slammed an empty shot glass down on the bar and thanked the customer who’d bought it for me with a wink and a smile.

  “Me?” I said to John, ignoring the heavy sarcasm and acting innocent. “I think you’re projecting there, buddy.”

  It was Friday night and the bar was full of kids partying it up before the new school semester began. Chad was in his regular position at the door to the back, John and I were working the front bar, our conversation part act for the customers, and part truth.

  “Are you saying you’re getting some?” John leered. “Wanna share the details? Give me something to think about when I’m all alone?”

  I smiled at my next customer and took her money, then turned to my coworker. “If you really want something to think about when you’re all alone, think about this.” I did a quick spin so my short skirt flared up, and bent over quickly, playfully flashing him my purple thong.

  “Such a tease.” He snapped his wrist and the tip of the bar towel in his hand smacked my butt.

  “Ohh, I like that.” I bent over farther and looked over my shoulder. “More please.”

  The customers lined up at the bar responded with a chorus of “wooo whoos” and some rowdy clapping.

  “Give it to her,” shouted the frat boy leaning against the bar waiting for his drink.

  John twirled the towel and I saw the gleam in his eye. He really was going to give it to me! I laughed and jumped out of the way in just the nick of time.

  “Too slow,” I said to him, then turned to the crowd. “Who wants a drink?”

  John and I worked the bar together smoothly, moving together, switching stations, and switching bottles when needed. Our banter and our moves kept the customers entertained while in line.

  Just before last call was announced the phone behind the bar rang and Val told me to join him in his office as soon as I could. Once the customers were served, and the clock struck two, I left John to shut down the back bar and made my way through the lingering crowd to the stairs.

  “Close the door,” he said when I entered his office.

  I did so, and then flopped into the chair in front of his desk. I stretched my legs out in front of me, and flexed my toes within my boots. God, my feet hurt. I wished I could take my boots off right then, but I’d probably never be able to put them back on if I did.

  Maybe I could sweet-talk Harlan into giving me a foot massage by regaling him with the story about Randy’s little fetish. I’d discovered that Harlan enjoyed a good dirty story or fantasy.

  Fighting back a grin I focused on Val. “What’s up?”

  “You tell me.”

  “Nothing much.” I shrugged. He’d been in the club all night, and I’d seen nothing that needed to be mentioned.

  “Samair tells me you’re seeing someone.” He pulled a bottle of tequila and a couple of shot glasses from his bottom desk drawer and set them on the table. Muscles stiff, I crossed my legs and watched as he poured two shots. He drank one and nudged the other in front of me. “Tell me about him.”

  The tequila didn’t really call to me, but I threw the shot back anyway before meeting his gaze. “What do you want to know?”

  “I want to know what you know.”

  The ritual with the shots was repeated. This time I held the shot glass in my hand and stared at him, my spine tingling.

  He stared back.

  “You had him checked out, didn’t you?”

  “Karl did some snooping for me,” he said quietly.

  I drank the shot and felt the fire of the tequila battling the flames of anger rising within me.

  “You’ve tapered off on your drinking lately and I don’t think I’ve seen you without a grin plastered across your face. Samair told me how you met and I needed to know the guy wasn’t a psychopath.” Val sat back and let me stew for a few minutes.

  He had no right to do what he’d done, and we both knew it. But battling the anger even better than the tequila, was the knowledge that he cared. He cared enough to not only look into Harlan, but to ask me about him. Which was more than anyone else in my life had done.

  Aside from Val and Samair, no one had noticed, or cared enough, to ask me how things were going. Sure, Mom always harped on me about finding a good man and a better job, but that was different. Ariel had picked up on it when we got together a while ago, but I hadn’t heard from her since the day I’d set her up with Samair for her dress. Mind you, I couldn’t really blame her for not asking me for an update since not only had I told her straight up I wasn’t going to talk, and her wedding was only a week away.

  It was then that I realized just how hurt I was that Dee hadn’t called to check on me. The last time I’d talked to her had been my semipanicked phone call about masturbating in front of a guy I liked, and she’d never called back to see if anything came of it.

  It wasn’t a huge thing, but it hurt that my best friend didn’t care about what was going on in my life. Val showed me that someone other than my family cared.

  “What did you find?”

  He fingered the file on his desk. “Nothing special. Ex-ironworker, new artist who’s rumored to be the next big thing. No criminal record, not even a parking ticket.”

  The tension between my shoulders started to ease. “Don’t you feel like an idiot now?” I sassed.

  He shook his head. “I’ll never feel like an idiot for looking out for my friends.”

  Emotion clogged my throat. He’d called me his friend, not just his employee. Tearing my gaze from his, I glanced around the room, searching for something to focus on.

  When I had control of my emotions and I looked back at him, Val’s features softened as he smiled. “There’s nothing bad in the report, Kelsey, but I still want to meet him.”

  “I’m going to come in early tomorrow to set up for Ariel’s party, if that’s okay with you?”

  Val’s eyes darkened but he let the subject change go and we talked about the next night for a few minutes before I left.

  Thoughts filled my head during the drive home from work. Crazy thoughts.

  Once again I felt alone. It was stupid, but I couldn’t shake thoughts of Dee. Maybe our friendship wasn’t as solid as I’d thought. She’d never hurt me, and there was no doubt that if I called her, she would do anything for me. But if I didn’t call her again, would she ever reach out to me?

  And what about Harlan? Despite my not wanting to put a label on things, it felt like we matched. When we were together we could joke and laugh, and fuck. And we were just as comfortable not talking, but just being together.

  Maybe I was just seeing what I wanted to see. Maybe I was just so damn tired of being alone that I was conning myself into believing there was more between Harlan and me than there really was.

  This time, when I parked my car, my feet didn’t carry me across the street, they carried m
e up the stairs of my building to my apartment. I needed to be alone. I needed to think, and figure out what the hell I was doing—what I really wanted. Because it was clear that something in my life needed to change.

  I walked in the door and before I took my boots off, I cracked the seal on the bottle of Stoli I’d borrowed from Risqué.

  Barefoot, I strolled out to the patio and slumped into my chair. Instead of looking up at the stars, I stared across the street at Harlan’s loft.

  It was dark, and he was probably in bed, naked and warm, and maybe even wondering if I’d be there soon. Logic told me to call him. Hell, logic also said I was overreacting to everything. But I couldn’t stop myself.

  I was drowning in a sea of unfamiliar emotions, and I didn’t want any witnesses.

  32

  Harlan watched her, sitting in the dark, alone with her bottle, and his chest ached. He wanted to go to her. To help her work out whatever it was that was eating at her, and he could tell something was definitely there. He could practically feel her vibrating emotions from across the street.

  But he’d said no pressure.

  So instead, he stood at the window and watched. She’d come to him three nights in a row, and it had been unbelievable. The sex was raunchy and real one minute, and loving and surreal the next. They had a connection. It hurt to watch her sit in the dark and not go to her. With the bathroom light behind him, his silhouette was illuminated and she could see him. That was how she’d caught sight of him the first time, and he used that to make sure she saw him watching her now.

  She might need her own space, but he needed her to know he wasn’t going anywhere.

  As an artist, he knew emotions, and he knew angst. He’d watch her battle whatever was going on in her head, and he’d be there when she was done.

  33

  Whooo hoooo!”

  I turned at the catcall and watched Ariel jump into the cage with Savannah and start shaking her ass to the music. My little sister was truly enjoying her party, and it warmed my heart.