Chapter 2

I sit on the counter on the opposite side of the bathroom from Harlow, my eyes slowly taking her in. Everything about her, from her dark-chocolate hair to her green eyes, down to her perfect body, one that I want to bend and manipulate, bringing us both pleasure.

I shouldn't be thinking these things. I shouldn't be sitting here in this bathroom with her, not with my career on the line, yet I can't think of another place I would rather be. Just for tonight, I can give in to what I want and then tomorrow I can go back to being on the straight and narrow. I just need tonight to find out what being with Harlow will feel like.

I watch, my lips tipping up in a smile, as Harlow tilts the bottle of champagne up, drinking straight from it. She should look ridiculous, her small hands clutched around the widest part of the bottle, yet she looks beautiful. And my mind fills with images of her delicate fingers wrapped around something else.

I slide back a little farther on the counter, pulling up my leg and resting my foot on the edge.

"You know what sucks about society?" Her voice sounds frustrated. I hide my amused smile by taking a drink from my own bottle. I watch her, waiting for her to continue what I assume is about to be a rant. I don't have to wait long. "You get to sit like that, your legs spread, and nobody is going to come at you with the nonsense about how you're not sitting like a lady, or that a lady doesn't spread her legs like that."

"Would you rather I put my leg down? Sit like a gentleman, all proper?"

The sigh that leaves her body is so heavy, you would think I asked her to sacrifice her right arm. "No, that would be ridiculous. Only one of us should be uncomfortable."

I nod, agreeing with her logic. I let my eyes drift again to the cleavage that is exposed from the top of her dress. "You know what I don't understand?"

"What's that?"

"Why do they even make dresses so low cut?" I chuckle at the look of outrage that crosses her face, putting my hands out in front of me like they'll protect me from her if she decides to come at me. "Don't get me wrong, I'm a fan. A big fucking fan. You look sexy as fuck in that dress. But if you knew that I've been checking out your tits the entire night, you would be outraged. So, my question is, why design something that is going to get a man slapped?"

Harlow studies me, likely trying to decide whether or not she wants to smash me over the head with her champagne bottle. "I can't answer for all women, but I wore this dress tonight to remind myself that I am desirable. And while I wasn't trying to get the attention of men by wearing it, I also knew that if anyone found me the least bit attractive, they wouldn't be able to deny themselves at least one lingering glance at me in this dress."

"I don't think your father would approve of the attention." I don't know why I felt the need to say that. The last thing I want right now is to bring up anything that will take Harlow out of here. Reminding her of the fact that I work for her father and that we should probably call it a night before either of us do anything we can't take back, is not going to help.

Harlow rolls her eyes before she huffs out another breath. "You know what, Hendrix?"

"I don't, but I'm guessing you're going to tell me."

"Why is it socially acceptable for men to whip their dicks out for any willing woman, yet women are supposed to keep their legs closed?"

I really need her to stop talking about whether or not her legs are closed, because I'm pretty sure that one more mention of opening them and I'm going to be the one doing it. I take another long drink of the champagne. Whoever said this stuff was for sipping, definitely wasn't feeling as parched as I am.

"Tell ya what, gorgeous. It's just the two of us in here and that door is locked. You are welcome to be as unladylike as you want, and I'm not about to judge you for it. Just don't judge me for enjoying it a little too much." I pop open the button on my pants, giving my dick some room, totally abandoning any hope that the hardness will subside.

Harlow's gaze follows the motion of my hand on my pants before her eyes shoot back to mine, her hand floating up to her throat.

I know I shouldn't—I really fucking shouldn't—but the way her eyes are glowing, I know she's feeling something. I let my hand rest over the top of my hard cock, pushing down a little, partially to relieve some of the pressure, and partially to see her reaction. I'm not at all disappointed by the way her breathing picks up, her chest moving up and down faster with her need to move air in and out of her body.

I take another drink from my bottle, hiding my smile as she does the same thing.

"You okay?"

"Fine." Her tone is a little higher pitched than it was just moments ago.

"You going to get comfortable?"

She nods, pulling her leg up onto the counter, mirroring my position. I swallow the lump that develops in my throat. What the fuck was I thinking challenging her like this?

"If the wedding tomorrow is anything like tonight's party, it's going to be absolutely beautiful."

Her words are quiet, her eyes still resting somewhere below my chest. "There was a party?" I tease, but the minute I found Harlow, everything else just melted away. The rest of the party no longer mattered.

Her laugh is so light it sends a warm feeling through my stomach.

"Where's your girlfriend, Hendrix? Why are you here alone with me?"

I bring the bottle to my lips, hoping to find a distraction from her question, only to find an empty bottle. I toss the bottle into the trash can at the end of the counter, wishing I had something else to keep my hands busy. Harlow's eyes never leave mine.

"I guess I'm not allowed to have one right now. I was told that I need to stay on the straight and narrow and get my focus off of women for a while if I don't want to watch my career go up in flames."

"Who told you that, my dad?" I don't respond because I know she already knows the answer, and my silence only confirms it. "What an asshole, he's always had a God complex, thinking he's in control of everyone's lives. Don't get me wrong, I love the man, and he usually wants what's best for you, but he just goes about telling you in the worst possible way."

Her chest rises and falls as she takes a deep breath, the annoyance fading from her face, and I'm happy that fun, relaxed Harlow seems to be trying to come back.

"Let's make a deal." When I don't answer her, she continues like I did. "We're done focusing on the things that we shouldn't do and the people who are set on ruining our lives. Let's move on and make ourselves happy."

"Do you want me to leave you alone so you can make yourself happy?" I tease, instantly regretting the words that have images of her pleasuring herself running through my mind.

"No need. Remember, I perform for a living."

Fuck. The thought of her performing for me has my cock impossibly hard. If it were any harder, I'm sure I'd need to seek medical attention. I loosen the top two buttons on my shirt, suddenly finding it hard to breathe.

"What are you thinking over there? Your face is turning a lovely shade of red."

"A lady wouldn't tease a man like that."

"I'm not a lady tonight, though, just a woman fed up with always being proper and doing what I should."