More Than Anything (Broken Pieces #1)(2)

She smoothed her hands down the front of her short red dress, threw back her shoulders, and gave Libby a final grin before leaving to join the party upstairs.

Oh my God! Libby’s not going to believe this! Tina thrilled hours later as she sat up in the rumpled bed, dragging the luxurious Egyptian cotton sheet up over her naked breasts. In fact, Tina could hardly believe it herself. The way Harris had singled her out at the party, how he had danced with her, touched her, looked at her. Like she was the prettiest girl there. He had moved her out to the quiet patio and kissed her.

Her first kiss! It had been everything she’d ever imagined. They had spent half an hour in the dark, kissing, cuddling, touching. Her, Tina Jenson, finally touching beautiful Harrison Chapman, with his perfect body and velvety skin. It had been all her dreams come true and so much more.

She sighed contentedly, staring into the darkness, as she recalled his tongue sliding over her skin and her breasts. Her overly sensitized nipples tightened at the memory. He’d led her into this room, where his touches had become more insistent, more purposeful . . . until she found herself sprawled on the bed naked, Harris hovering above her, positioned between her splayed thighs.

She remembered him asking if she was on birth control, and—feeling like a sophisticated woman of the world—she’d happily told him yes. She’d started on the pill just that morning, wishing for something like this to happen but never dreaming that it actually would.

It had hurt, of course. She had known it would. But he had been gentle and considerate. It was messier and a lot quicker than she’d expected, over in less than a minute. But she didn’t mind. She knew that next time would be better. She smiled and glanced down into his sleeping face.

He was divine; his big muscular body was dark and powerful against the white bedding. Those broad shoulders looked like they could barely clear a normal doorframe; his sculpted chest and torso, along with his ridged abdomen, made him seem like a young Adonis. He was masculine perfection, and he wanted her. She lay back down, cuddling against his side and relishing the amazing warmth and wonderful scent of him. She fell asleep, happier than she could ever recall being before.

Tina didn’t know how long she’d slept, but when she woke up, he wasn’t there. His side of the bed still retained some of his body heat, so she knew he couldn’t have been gone long. She cocked her head, listening for sounds from the bathroom. Nothing. She sat up, pushing her messy hair from her face.

“Harris?”

Silence.

She got out of bed and found her clothing scattered all over the floor. She couldn’t find one of her earrings, and both of her shoes were missing. After searching impatiently for a few moments, she gave up on both the earring and her shoes and decided to walk out on her bare feet. She wasn’t particularly concerned—she would find them later—but the earrings were a graduation gift from her oldest brother, Conrad, and she would hate to lose one. Maybe Harris would help her search for it. But right now she was eager to see him again.

She left the room; it was quiet upstairs, but she could hear the thumping music downstairs, which meant the party was still going strong. She was confidently walking toward the landing, ready to face the crowds again, when she heard masculine voices and laughter. She had been in this house enough times to know that it was coming from Mr. Chapman’s study, which was situated in the room closest to the landing. The man would probably shit the proverbial brick if he knew that any of the partygoers had breached his sanctum. Wanting to keep the twins out of trouble, Tina decided she’d better usher the stray partygoers out of the room before they did any damage.

The door was ajar, and she was about to push it open when she heard her name and paused.

“Man, I can’t believe you fucked Tina Jenson,” the male voice said with an incredulous laugh. She recognized it as Jonah Spade’s voice. She had never liked him; he was a misogynist who treated women like they were disposable. Tina shifted so that she could see into the room and spotted Harris sprawled on his father’s leather sofa, one of the older man’s expensive Cuban cigars clenched between his even white teeth. He was barefoot and wore only his faded jeans, with his pale-blue shirt unbuttoned, leaving his magnificent chest on display. He didn’t say anything in response to Jonah’s comment, merely grunting as he lit the cigar.

“Fuck, I don’t know if it was worth it, dude. No amount of money could entice me to touch that with a ten-foot pole.” This gem came from Schaeffer Higgins, another elite asshole. Tina’s heart dropped as his words sank in, and her trembling hand lifted to her mouth as the implication hit her.

Her eyes scanned the rest of the room. There were three other guys present. None of them the kind of people she would consider nice. In fact, she wasn’t sure why Harris was even with them—they weren’t his usual crowd. There was no sign of Smith or Greyson or any of his regular cohorts.

“How did you manage not to puke after fucking that fat freak, Harris? Was it like sticking your dick into a marshmallow?” Jonah asked.

“Soft and gooey, right?” Schaeffer chuckled.

“Soft,” Harris said, his voice almost absent as he stared at the lit tip of his cigar. The other guys brayed with laughter, and Tina felt the first scalding tears hit her cheeks.

“Here’s your money, bro—you fucking earned it!” One of the guys tossed a note at Harris, and he stared down at it like it was something completely unrecognizable.