A Brush with Love(55)
“I want you,” she whispered, then pressed a sloppy kiss against his mouth. Dan grinned and gave her one gentle kiss back before pulling away.
“I want you too,” he said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “And I’ll have you.” Her eyes turned smoky and she leaned in, but he pulled farther back. “But not drunk.”
With a swift movement, he stood, slinging Harper over his shoulder. She let out a squeal of delight and began pounding on his back.
“I’m not tired!” she whined.
He gave her butt a playful pat, making her squeal even more as he carried her to the bedroom. Once there, he tossed her lightly on the mattress and she laughed.
Harper scrambled to her knees and reached out her hand. “Come here.”
When he didn’t take it, she humphed out a breath, and reached behind her neck, undoing the tie of her dress. With shocking speed, she wriggled out of it and crawled toward him on her hands and knees. She hadn’t been wearing a bra, and her movement pushed her breasts up and together between her arms. Dan’s throat went dry and his eyes shot to the floor—there was no use torturing himself.
Bending down, he picked up discarded pajamas and turned back to Harper. She sat back on her heels, a hungry look in her eyes. Her lips parted as she stared at him. She ran her hands down her body, over her chest, stomach, lower still.
“I ache for you,” she whispered, her fingers playing with the band of her underwear. “I need you.”
Dan’s cock twitched, but he shook his head, deftly tugging the T-shirt over her head and caging her arms to her sides. She let out a muffled whine and gave him a hurt look when her face popped through the neck hole.
“What are you doing?” Her bottom lip quivered. “Don’t you want me?”
Dan groaned and dragged his hands over his face.
He managed a weak smile. “I want you more than you know. But I need to know you want me back”—he held up a finger at her sound of protest—“when you’re sober. I can wait till then and you can too.”
He kissed her forehead and gently pushed her back onto the pillows. Dan tugged the pajama bottoms up her squirming legs.
“Will you at least lie with me?” she asked, her eyes vulnerable.
Like he could ever deny her that. Dan moved his hand to her cheek.
“Scoot over.”
Harper beamed as Dan flicked off the lights and moved beside her, lying on his back and cradling her head to his chest—enjoying the overwhelming pleasure of holding her to him. She traced her finger over his shirt in small patterns for a quiet moment before stilling, her breathing growing deeper. He thought she’d drifted to sleep when she spoke.
“Can I tell you a secret?” she whispered.
Dan swallowed. “You can tell me anything.”
“I think I might love you back.”
CHAPTER 22
HARPER
Harper woke to the feeling of being stabbed in the brain with a pickaxe. She squinted one eye open and let out a deep groan at the sunlight streaming happily through her window. Burying her head back into her pillow, she vowed never to drink again.
She groped around at her side for Judy, her trusty cuddle bug, wanting to nuzzle her aching skull into that delicious, tubby belly. A mix of cuddles, coffee, and carbs was the only way she was going to survive this hangover. She continued to reach for her cat, who could always be counted on to be right there, but when no fur met her fingers, she sensed something was amiss besides her splitting headache and rolling stomach.
She pushed up to sitting, squeezing her eyes shut against a wave of nausea, and swung her legs off the side of the bed. Her toes tangled in the cool silk of her dress on the floor. She stared down at it, searching her alcohol-soaked brain for memories of the night, but most of it was black.
There was the awfulness at Indira and Lizzie’s place. Pizza and wine—way too much wine—at her’s. Dan’s infectious smile making her feel safe and free to indulge.
And the Kiss.
She definitely remembered the Kiss. There wasn’t enough wine in the world to make her forget it. Her lips buzzed with the memory of his. Strong. Wanting. Perfect.
She let out a groan, pressing the heels of her hands into her sockets. It wouldn’t do her any good to keep reliving it. She had no idea what time Dan had ended up leaving or how she’d managed to drag her drunk ass to bed, but she knew she’d have to talk to him at some point about the Kiss.
It shouldn’t have happened. It thrilled her and electrified her and made her feel terrifyingly alive. She’d been too vulnerable, too open. Harper needed to restore boundaries and get some space, because the taste of him made her desperate for more. She needed to stick to the goddamn plan that was supposed to carry her to graduation and wherever came after.
She wasn’t the girl who kept her mind on a guy and fingers glued to her phone, allowing a stupid crush to tip the scales and detract from her goals—so she needed to stop acting like it. With a final heavy sigh, she heaved her body off the bed in search of her cat and an IV drip of coffee.
She padded down the hallway toward her kitchen and nearly jumped out of her skin at the sight of a body on her couch. She put a shaky hand over her heart, trying to calm its berserk rhythm, as she took in the scene.
Dan was asleep on the couch in an upright position, Judy’s giant body stretched bonelessly across his shoulders, jutting his neck forward at a severe angle. He still wore his suit pants and button-down, looking incredible even through a rumpled night, and Harper felt a twinge of regret and shame that such a nice suit hadn’t been put to use at the dance.