minutes to compose, edit, delete, recompose, and edit again before she settled on what she wanted to convey. That she wasn’t pissed about waking up alone. That she was up for some casual fun. That she didn’t expect anything from him.
Which was all true.
Sure, she didn’t normally do this kind of thing, but why not? Plenty of women did. And she was young and alive. If the sudden death of two parents had taught her nothing else, it was that everything could be over in the blink of an eye.
She read over the text one last time.
In overalls. Will be home in one hour. Need a hand with my zip if you’re around.
She hit send quickly, before she could change her mind, and then started the car.
Harper pulled into her townhouse complex one hour and ten minutes later. Dex hadn’t replied, and she didn’t know what that meant. Had she gotten the tone all wrong? Had she overstepped the mark? Had it freaked him out even more, and he was too chicken shit to tell her he didn’t want anything to do with her?
Or maybe…he was just busy and hadn’t checked his phone yet.
Thoughts churning wildly, she slowed her car down to ten, obeying the speed limit in the complex as she navigated to the driveway that serviced the block of four townhouses where hers was situated. A car was parked outside in one of the guest spaces. It belonged to Dex. She’d seen it the night of the wine and paint party. And even if she hadn’t, the rugby stickers on the bumper would have given it away.
Rugby players do it with grunt was her favourite.
The car was empty, so he must be waiting for her inside the hallway to her apartment. That was a good sign, right? Her heart thumped hard in her chest for a beat or two before accelerating at a lighter, quicker pace.
There was only one way to find out…
Harper garaged her car quickly, her hand unsteady as she reached to open the door. She paused with her fingers around the handle, making a snap decision. Quickly she unzipped her overalls, slid her hands around the back and unhooked her bra. Pulling the straps down her arms and out the end of the overalls, she whipped the bra off and tossed it on the backseat before zipping up again.
She pulled her hair out of its ponytail, too, and gave it a quick shake, scrunching the natural waves to give them some volume.
Maybe he was here to tell her he’d changed his mind about their arrangement. But if he wasn’t? Why not be prepared…
Dex was lounging against her door, his phone in hand, when Harper stepped into the corridor that fronted all four townhouses. She shut the door that led from her garage behind her and headed in his direction, anticipation tingling between her legs.
She’d been hoping for round four when she’d woken Monday morning, and had been frustrated to find that wasn’t going to happen.
She’d been fantasising about it ever since.
He straightened as she approached, slipping his phone into his pocket. “Wow,” she said, her gaze devouring the way the fabric of his dark suit outlined his shoulders and pulled taut across his thighs. His hair had been carelessly ruffled with some kind of gel into a sexy-messy combo, and he was cleanly shaven.
“You didn’t have to dress.”
The man looked hot in his jersey, sexy as hell in a pair of jeans, and goddamn mouth-watering in nothing but his tan.
In a business suit? He looked utterly fuckable.
As she pulled up in front of him, Harper had to grind her heels into the floor to stop herself from climbing up his body. She couldn’t believe she had carnal knowledge of every delicious inch of what lay under that suit.
She smiled, searching his face for any hint of hesitance or withdrawal. She’d seen it in the faces of enough guys over the years to know the signs. All she found was a slow grin and eyes that had already locked onto her zip like a heat-seeking missile.
“Oh yes,” he said, glancing dismissively at his suit. “I have an official rugby thing to go to, so…”
Harper
Which was all true.
Sure, she didn’t normally do this kind of thing, but why not? Plenty of women did. And she was young and alive. If the sudden death of two parents had taught her nothing else, it was that everything could be over in the blink of an eye.
She read over the text one last time.
In overalls. Will be home in one hour. Need a hand with my zip if you’re around.
She hit send quickly, before she could change her mind, and then started the car.
Harper pulled into her townhouse complex one hour and ten minutes later. Dex hadn’t replied, and she didn’t know what that meant. Had she gotten the tone all wrong? Had she overstepped the mark? Had it freaked him out even more, and he was too chicken shit to tell her he didn’t want anything to do with her?
Or maybe…he was just busy and hadn’t checked his phone yet.
Thoughts churning wildly, she slowed her car down to ten, obeying the speed limit in the complex as she navigated to the driveway that serviced the block of four townhouses where hers was situated. A car was parked outside in one of the guest spaces. It belonged to Dex. She’d seen it the night of the wine and paint party. And even if she hadn’t, the rugby stickers on the bumper would have given it away.
Rugby players do it with grunt was her favourite.
The car was empty, so he must be waiting for her inside the hallway to her apartment. That was a good sign, right? Her heart thumped hard in her chest for a beat or two before accelerating at a lighter, quicker pace.
There was only one way to find out…
Harper garaged her car quickly, her hand unsteady as she reached to open the door. She paused with her fingers around the handle, making a snap decision. Quickly she unzipped her overalls, slid her hands around the back and unhooked her bra. Pulling the straps down her arms and out the end of the overalls, she whipped the bra off and tossed it on the backseat before zipping up again.
She pulled her hair out of its ponytail, too, and gave it a quick shake, scrunching the natural waves to give them some volume.
Maybe he was here to tell her he’d changed his mind about their arrangement. But if he wasn’t? Why not be prepared…
Dex was lounging against her door, his phone in hand, when Harper stepped into the corridor that fronted all four townhouses. She shut the door that led from her garage behind her and headed in his direction, anticipation tingling between her legs.
She’d been hoping for round four when she’d woken Monday morning, and had been frustrated to find that wasn’t going to happen.
She’d been fantasising about it ever since.
He straightened as she approached, slipping his phone into his pocket. “Wow,” she said, her gaze devouring the way the fabric of his dark suit outlined his shoulders and pulled taut across his thighs. His hair had been carelessly ruffled with some kind of gel into a sexy-messy combo, and he was cleanly shaven.
“You didn’t have to dress.”
The man looked hot in his jersey, sexy as hell in a pair of jeans, and goddamn mouth-watering in nothing but his tan.
In a business suit? He looked utterly fuckable.
As she pulled up in front of him, Harper had to grind her heels into the floor to stop herself from climbing up his body. She couldn’t believe she had carnal knowledge of every delicious inch of what lay under that suit.
She smiled, searching his face for any hint of hesitance or withdrawal. She’d seen it in the faces of enough guys over the years to know the signs. All she found was a slow grin and eyes that had already locked onto her zip like a heat-seeking missile.
“Oh yes,” he said, glancing dismissively at his suit. “I have an official rugby thing to go to, so…”
Harper
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