35. Harper

The elevator doors opened, and Kyle stepped off, dressed in a white T-shirt and gray sweats. He hadn’t even bothered with shoes.

His eyes lit as he saw me. “Damn, Crabby, you look hot.”

I was wearing a simple black wrap dress and heels. It wasn’t an elaborate outfit by any stretch of the imagination. But the way he ate up every inch of me as he approached made me feel like a goddess.

When he stopped in front of me, he dipped low and pressed his lips to mine in a breath-stealing kiss.

“Happy to see me?” I teased when he pulled back.

“Always.” He turned to the man behind the desk who had been giving me a hard time. “Wesley, meet Harper.” He tugged me into his side. “And remember this face, because anytime she’s here, she’s allowed up, got it?”

“Sorry, man. Didn’t know you’d wifed up.” The man’s dark eyes shifted to me. “If you need anything, let me know. A big part of my job is keeping the fans out. Now that I know you, I promise I’m helpful.”

“Wes really is.”

I turned at the sound of a familiar voice and found Rory and Mason standing behind us.

“I thought you were staying home with that book you’ve been obsessed with,” Kyle said to his teammate, who was dressed in dark-wash jeans and an overcoat.

“Yeah.” He lifted a white kindle. “Aurora got me hooked on ACOTAR , so I read while I rode with the car service to pick her up.”

Rory shrugged. “Our schedules keep us apart a lot, so Mason insists on picking me up and dropping me off so we at least get the car rides together.”

Mason wrapped his arm around his girlfriend and tucked her close. “I can’t help but miss you when you’re not with me, Aurora.”

“I had fun tonight.” Rory smiled at me. “I hope you come out with us again. And I swear Wren isn’t usually so cagey.”

Kyle took my hand and led me to the elevators. “What did Wren do?”

“Nothing,” I assured him. Avery’s friend really wasn’t a problem. “It was my fault. I was trying to put together who went with who, because I’m still getting to know everyone, and I was running out of players.”

“She guessed that Wren was dating Coach Wilson.” Rory chuckled as the stainless-steel doors slid open.

“And that bothered Wren?” Kyle cocked a brow and pulled me onto the elevator.

“I know, right?” Rory laughed.

“Weird. She usually jokes about that herself. So much so that Avery gets annoyed.” Frowning, Mason swiped his key fob and then pushed the buttons for the top two floors.

“She got flustered and then ended up leaving early. I felt bad,” I said, shrugging. “But Avery promised that she’d just gotten home from a business trip and was jet-lagged.”

“I’ll ask Dragon about it.” Kyle reached into his pants pocket.

“No.” I grabbed his hand through his sweats to stop him. And as I did, I accidentally brushed my pinky against his cock. My breath caught in my lungs, and I froze.

He simply chuckled. “You can grab me all you want when we get upstairs. Trust me, I’m as eager as you, baby.”

Jeez. I yanked my hand back as my face flamed.

Kyle wrapped his arm around me and tucked me against him.

“Sorry,” I muttered, although I wasn’t sure to whom.

“No need to apologize,” Rory said with a casual wave. “Mason loves making people uncomfortable as much as Kyle does.”

Beside her, Mason chuckled. A moment later, the elevator doors slid open, and he stepped off, guiding Rory into what looked like a foyer.

“He lives right below you?” I asked once the doors had closed again.

“Yeah. He used to live a few floors down, but when Rory moved in, they upgraded to the lower penthouse.”

The lower penthouse. And if Kyle lived above him, that had to mean he also lived in a penthouse. Why didn’t that surprise me? The man had been playing major league baseball for fourteen years. He had to make good money, and that was before his endorsement deals. Even though I was expecting it, I still wasn’t prepared when the doors to opened to his massive space.

“Whoa,” I whispered as I took it all in.

In the center of the foyer sat a circular table, where Kyle tossed his key fob and phone as he walked by. On either side of the space was an office, and straight ahead was a huge living area and kitchen. The back wall was nothing but two-story floor-to-ceiling windows and french doors that opened to a patio with a pool, hot tub, and a 180-degree view of the Boston Harbor.

I spun and assessed him, my eyes wide. “Why the heck do you come to my tiny apartment?”

“All my favorite people live there.” He shrugged, clearly unimpressed by his own incredible home. “Cam’s not here now, but he might be later. He lives in what would be the nanny quarters at the end of the hall.” He pointed behind us. “My room and the guest rooms are this way,” he said, pointing to the hall on the right side of the main space. “You probably won’t notice that Cam’s even here until morning. Can I interest you in a cider or a White Out?” he asked as he headed for the kitchen.

“You have my favorites?” I was still focused on the details of his home. One corner was set up like a reading nook, with two comfortable-looking chairs and a wall of bookshelves. In another spot was a row of shelves lined with toys. In the middle of the room was a sectional situated in front a huge TV that was mounted above the mantel of a massive marble fireplace.

“Of course I have what you like. So which do you want?”

He rounded an enormous black island and moved straight for what looked like dark cherry cabinets but turned out to be a fridge. I stepped toward the island, still in shock. Even the way the black granite seemed to waterfall off the edge to the floor was gorgeous. This place was amazing.

“You are so out of my league.” With a shake of my head, I rested my hands on the cool stone.

Kyle set both drinks on the counter and took my hand in his. “No,” he said, giving it an assuring squeeze. “I’m lucky enough to get paid a lot of money to play a game nine months a year.”

I frowned, feeling defensive for him. Making light of his abilities is something I’d never seen him do.

“Don’t look at me like that. Professional baseball is hard work, but it’s also a lot of luck. If my stepdad hadn’t come into the picture when he did and taken me to practices, then worked with me after for hours, I would never be playing now.” He pulled me closer and rested his chin on my head. “Before him, my mom skipped dinner quite a bit to ensure that my brother and I would have enough to eat. She is one of the best people I know.” He tipped my chin up, his eyes blazing into mine. “And you’re the other.”

My heart skipped, and though my instinct was to deny it, I couldn’t form a coherent sentence to save my life.

“So don’t you ever dare say I’m out of your league, because in every way that matters, you’re out of my league.”

He dipped his head and kissed me softly. A warmth rushed through me at the connection, urging me to part my lips and give him access. As his tongue stroked mine, that warmth ignited into a low flame in my belly. His arms tightened around my waist, pressing me into the solid plane of his body.

Although his kiss always made my stomach jump and my blood pump faster, his touch also brought with it a sense of safety that was hard to explain. Being in his arms like this lowered my defenses and allowed me to relax, because I knew he had me.

He pulled back. “Let’s hang out in my room. It’s less intimidating.” Then he was tugging on my hand, snagging the beer and cider off the island nimbly, and guiding me down the hallway on the right.

The second we stepped into the room, I frowned. “It’s bigger than my entire apartment.” This was his idea of less intimidating?

“I’ll happily buy you a bigger place if you want.”

I whacked his stomach with the back of my hand.

“I do not want that.”

“I figured.” He smirked. He held up both drinks, silently reminding me that I hadn’t chosen yet.

With a sigh, I took the White Out from him. The winter lager was one of my favorites.

“Do you want to sit?” He motioned to the sofa in front of a smaller fireplace with another television above it. Opposite that was a king-size platform bed. On another wall were two solid-wood doors with a rich mahogany dresser between. And the last wall had a…

“You have a trifold mirror?”

He laughed. “I told you that. Remember, in order to keep my ego this big, I have to look in it every morning and tell myself I’m pretty three times.” He stepped up to it and looked at his reflection with a big smirk. “You look so pretty. You’re going to own it today.”

I snorted. “I thought you were making that up.”

With a roll of his eyes, he spun around and slipped his hands into the pocket of his sweats. “No, everything I tell you is 100 percent the truth.”

Nodding, I took a swig of my beer. It was incredible, knowing I didn’t have to question his honesty. Because although he was way too good-looking and had enough money to purchase a small county—and those things were intimidating as hell—at least I never doubted whether I could trust him.

“But right now, I’d much rather look at your reflection than mine.” He took the bottle from me and set it on the dresser before taking my hand and leading me to stand directly in front of the mirror.

With the way each panel was angled, it looked like there were twenty of us. He towered over me, one hand on my shoulder and the other brushing my hair out of the way. Leaning down, he kissed his way up my neck.

“I have this fantasy with you and this mirror,” he whispered against my ear, making me shiver. “I want to show you, but I have a condition.”

I turned to look at him, but he grasped my hips and forced me to face the mirror again.

When I met his gaze there, he continued.

“You can only watch me in the mirror.”

Anticipation at the idea bubbled through me. And I slowly nodded.

His smile turned sinister as he grasped the tie holding my dress together and slowly pulled the string.

The panels of black fabric separated, showing off just a strip of pale skin.

He pushed the material aside, revealing one side of my black lace bra. “Fuck, Crabby,” he said, zeroing in on the transparent fabric. “That’s sexy. I fucking love your boobs.” With a thumb, he caressed the swell of one breast. “This is one of my favorite spots.” His voice was a low rumble that reverberated through me, sending a shot of desire down my spine. “The tease of perfection. Of the treasure below. The silky skin dusted with patterns of freckles.”

“I hate the freckles,” I admitted.

“No.” He shook his head, making eye contact with me in the mirror. “I love them. Every spot, every cluster. They’re all so uniquely you. One of a kind.” He dipped his thumb below the lace.

Watching his large rough hands move against me in the mirror made my heart pound and blood rush in my ears. I was desperate for him to dip lower. To tease my nipple with the callused pad of his thumb.

But he didn’t.

“Right here? This is my perfect circle of freckles. I love tracing the dots with my tongue, torturing you as I do because I’m so close to where you want me to be, but not close enough.”

With his free hand, he brushed my hair back and to the side. Then he pressed his lips to the bare skin where my neck and shoulder met. Seeing the image in front of me while simultaneously feeling each move had the fire burning low in my belly flaring, like Kyle had just thrown gasoline onto it.

“Right here.” He dipped a finger between my breasts. “I swear there is a perfect heart. See?” The front clasp of my bra popped open, and my breasts fell free.

Although I couldn’t see my freckles clearly from this distance, I believed him. He used that same finger to draw a heart on my skin. As his other hand brushed the underside of my breast, I clenched. His ability to tease me, to slowly feed the burning need in my system, was thrilling.

He pushed my bra and dress off my shoulders and let them fall to the floor, leaving me standing in just a lace pair of boy shirts and heels in front of a very well-lit mirror. I wasn’t a perky twenty-three-year-old. I was a woman who’d given birth to two children. My body was soft and had years of wear and tear.

With my heart in my throat and a wave of not-so-wanted heat washing through me, I dropped my focus to the floor.

“Hey.” He slid his palm down my ribs, creating sparks in his wake, then over my soft stomach to my hip. From there, he pulled me back against his erection. “Do you feel that?”

I nodded.

“You look away because you think you’re lacking. But I can’t tear my eyes from you. I couldn’t look away if someone paid me. Because getting to touch you, getting to see you on display for me, is worth any price.”

He reached up and tipped my chin, forcing me to look at our reflection again.

“Your full breasts.” With both tan hands, he cupped them. Then he brushed my nipples with his thumbs, sending heat rushing through me. “That flare in your eyes when you’re turned on. Damn, that’s hot. I love the curve of your hips and your soft thighs.”

He continued to toy with my nipples, creating a heavy thrumming between my legs.

“Watch me pleasure you,” he whispered against my ear. “Watch us pleasure each other.” He ghosted his lips along my neck, peppering my skin with kisses as he continued teasing my breasts until I was squirming and my panties were soaked and my body was burning.

Whimpering, I dropped my head back against his chest.

“You ready to watch me make your body come alive?” he murmured against my skin as he ran his hands down my sides. “You ready to watch us both come apart?”

“Yes,” I moaned.

With his fingers hooked into my lace boy shorts, he slowly dragged them down my legs, torturing me the whole way, letting hot fingers trail lightly against my skin as he lowered, his eyes still locked on mine in the mirror. He disappeared from sight, and a moment later, he pressed his lips to my right ass cheek.

“Step,” he commanded. And when I complied, he pressed his lips to my other cheek. “Again.”

I shivered, and he chuckled darkly, which only sent a more violent shudder through me.

“I never would have guessed you’d like to be told what to do.” He ran his tongue over his lower lip and leaned into my hip, inhaling deeply. “Oh, baby. You’re so wet for me.”

I was. Wet, desperate, and ready. I rubbed my thighs together to ease the ache.

He clicked his tongue. “No you don’t.” He brought his arms around me and ran his palms up the inside of my legs separating them. Then he inched closer to the apex of my thighs, closer to the place I so desperately needed his touch. But just as the tips of his thumb brushed my pussy, he pulled away and pushed to his feet.

“Do not move,” he whispered against my ear. Then his heat was gone, and he was stepping away.

I started to turn, so I could catalog his every move, guess as to what he would do next.

“Stop,” he commanded. “Remember my rule. You can only watch me in the mirror.”

With a groan, I straightened, obeying, and a moment later, he disappeared from sight. He was still in the room, but I couldn’t find him in the mirror. I could, however, hear him sliding a heavy object across the carpet.

Finally, he stepped back into view, fully naked.

My breath hitched as I drank him in. He was utter perfection. Broad shoulders, high, tight pecs dusted with a small amount of hair. His six-pack abs twitched with each inhale. Narrow hips. And his dick. Thick and long and jutting toward me. A statue should be erected in his honor. Every inch of his body was more beautiful than any work of art on display in any museum.

“You’re much more comfortable looking at me.” He smirked.

I met his eyes in the mirror, still finding it hard to breathe. “You’re perfect.”

“That’s how I feel about you, Crabby. Every inch of you makes me want to fall to my knees and worship your body.” He moved toward me and dropped a kiss to the bare skin of my shoulder. “Hold this.” The vibration of his words echoed through me.

He grasped my hip with one hand and held out a condom.

I pinched it between my fingers, surveyed it. The sight of it was wrong. This moment was too intimate for barriers.

“I’m on the Depo shot,” I whispered, focus fixed on his face in the mirror.

His brows shot up to his hairline as his eyes snapped back to mine. “Are you sure?”

Heart pounding, I nodded. “I’m good if you are.”

“My end-of-season physical.” He swallowed audibly. “Everything was negative. And it’s only been you since then.”

Not letting my eyes leave his, I dropped the condom, letting it fall to the floor. “Then I want to feel you. Just you.”

His fingers at my hip bit into my skin as he shuddered. “Fuck, I need that too.”

He tipped to one side, the top of his body moving just outside the view of the mirror, and yanked a chair toward us. Ah, the dragging sound made sense now.

He settled it behind me and then dropped into it. “Sit,” he commanded, grabbing my hips and pulling me back to him.

I complied, letting him manipulate my body and drape my legs over his. My heels brushed along his calves, my knees positioned on the outside of his. Once he had me where he wanted me, he pushed his thighs apart, separating mine.

“Mmm.” He groaned, his eyes locked on my pussy in the mirror. “Look at you glisten for me.” Sliding a hand down my hip and along the apex of thigh, he tortured me with the softest of touches before finally making contact where I needed him most.

I moaned when he ran those long, tan fingers along my pink flesh. Seeing him, watching this, only made every touch more intense.

For a moment, he stroked me, growling with pleasure as he did. And when his fingers were drenched in my arousal, he sank one deep inside me. His jaw locked in restraint, his dick rock hard against me. But he continued teasing me, prolonging this moment.

“Fuck, you’re going to feel like liquid fire against my cock, baby. I can’t wait to watch those tits bounce while you ride me.” He curled his finger deep inside me as he brushed my clit with his thumb.

“Kyle.” My legs quivered. “I need you.”

“Tell me exactly what you need,” he ordered.

I met his eyes in the mirror. And the burn of desire painted on his face melted any hesitation away. “I need your cock inside me, fucking me deep, while you play with my tits.”

He sucked in a breath, his heart pounding against my back.

“Lean forward,” he commanded, splaying a hand over my abdomen and tipping me just a bit. “Rest your hands above my knees.”

Obediently, I steadied myself with my palms on his thighs. His rock-hard quads pushed back against my palms, the coarse hair tickling. He shifted, slowly removing his finger. Then he lined up his long cock.

I rocked back, transfixed by the image of him sinking into me.

“Harper,” he groaned. “See how we fit? See how good your pussy looks swallowing my cock? It’s like it was made for me.” He slid his hand lower, teasing my clit, letting his fingers brush his dick. “Mine.”

And it was. I was.

As a wave of heat engulfed me, I rocked against him. He met my movements, thrusting up and hitting a spot so deep it felt like he was becoming part of me.

“That’s it, Crabby. Ride me. Use me to make yourself feel good. I need you to come all over my dick.”

When he pinched my nipples, heat flared in my lower stomach, pushing me closer to the edge. The filthy sounds of our bodies slapping, compounded with the sight of our reflection, every damn angle, were all too much.

“I’m so close,” I cried, dropping my head forward.

He pumped faster as he pinched, pulled, and twisted my breast with the perfect pressure. The sensation had my legs quivering. I spiraled higher and higher. Rocking faster. My heart pounding and an inferno blazing. Until finally, in a burst of hot pleasure, I came, pulsing around his cock over and over.

“Yes. That’s it,” he moaned. “Fuck, Harper. You’re like a vise. Holy shit.” He pumped faster, his breaths becoming more ragged. Until he gripped my hips, held me tight to him, and moaned out my name as he came.

He collapsed back in the chair, pulling me with him, breaths sawing in and out of him. His arms wrapped around my waist and his lips pressed to my bare shoulder.

“That was so much better than anything I could have imagined,” he mumbled against my skin.

“Yeah.” I twisted in his arms. The move caused him to slip from me, but I needed to be closer. I tucked my head against his shoulder, letting my nose rest against his neck.

He dropped a hand and pulled one heel from my foot, then the other, letting them fall to the floor in a thunk .

“Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Before I could pull back, he lifted and kept me pressed to his body, then strode into the massive bathroom. He set me on what had to be a heated tile floor while he started the shower. In the large space on the other side of the glass, water sprayed from the ceiling and two walls. Once the steam started to billow out into the rest of the room, he tugged my arm and pulled me in.

He grabbed a familiar-looking bottle and squirted a dollop of liquid into his palm.

“You have my shampoo?”

“I was hoping you’d change your mind and spend the night.” He set the bottle on the ledge again and rubbed his hands together. Then he stepped closer and massaged the soapy bubbles over my scalp and through my hair. “I wanted to get this right so you’d come back.”

I opened my eyes and looked up at his face. “You know you don’t have to be perfect to make me want to spend time with you, right?” He was already too good. Too perfect. It was almost hard to keep up with.

“I know.” He rinsed the soap out of my hair, every move gentle. And then leaned forward, pressing his lips against my forehead. “But I want to try. You deserve it.”

My heart stuttered, and when it went back to its normal beat, it felt different.

And it was, because Kyle Bosco had wormed his way into my heart in a way that was irreversible. I was head-over-heels in love with him. And I had no idea what to do with that.