She wanted him on her, moving over her. Wanted him inside of her. Now. The urgency and need was all-consuming. She shifted back on the bed, scooting across the mattress so that her legs were no longer hanging over the edge.

“You waiting for another invitation?” she asked as she settled into the pillows.

“Maybe.” His mouth quirked to the side.

God he’s sexy. “Written or verbal?”

“Verbal will do just fine.”

She bent her knees, her feet going flat on the bed before she pulled her thighs apart. He took a deep breath, his eyes dilating as he focused on the apex of her thighs. “Come. Here.”

The bed dipped just slightly as he put first one knee down on the mattress, then the other, kneeling between her legs. His hands skimmed her sides before he placed them flat on the bed. He leaned down, opening his mouth over one of her breasts before trailing kisses up her chest, over her neck, and finally covering her mouth with his as he settled between her thighs.

One of his palms moved under her butt, lifting her as he thrust inside of her in one powerful move. Her mouth fell away from his and she found herself looking up into his green-gold gaze.

He was all that she saw. All that she felt. All that she wanted.

She reached up and ran her fingers across his strong jaw, her thumb moving against his stubble, a stubble that had rasped across most of her body. She was going to have whisker burn everywhere.

Worth it. So totally worth it.

He kissed her again as he began to move, pulling his hips back before he thrust back into her. The hair on his chest brushed her now overly sensitized nipples. She slid her hands to his back, her palms gliding over his skin as they traveled down to his ass. She hadn’t gotten a rearview yet, so a hands-on exploration was necessary.

And it was glorious.

He groaned into her mouth as her nails dug into his skin, urging him on harder. He complied with gusto and she moved with him, meeting him thrust for thrust. She had no idea how long they moved like that before she pulled away from his mouth, gasping for air.

Liam buried his face in her neck, sucking at her skin before nipping at it with his teeth. The sting sent pleasure all the way down to her toes, hitting every spot in between. Or maybe that was just him hitting every spot in between.

Didn’t matter. It was working. Everything he was doing was working.

“I don’t think I’m going to last much longer,” he whispered, his breath washing out over her skin.

“I’m almost there,” she panted. Almost being the operative word, she was right on the edge. Just a few more thrusts and she…

She would…

Be…

Right…

“Oh, ohh, ohhh.” She tightened around him, her body pulsing as the orgasm ripped through her.

“Thank God,” Liam groaned into her neck as he found his own release.

They stayed that way for just a few moments, their sweaty bodies tangled together. Harper closed her eyes and reveled in the weight of Liam pushing her down into the mattress. She moved her hands up and down his back, memorizing him with her fingertips and cataloging everything. His hand at her hip, his lips on her throat, his breath on her skin.

He pulled his head up and looked down at her, giving her that smile of his again as his hair fell across his forehead. “I’m so glad I bought you that drink.”

A laugh burst forth from her lips as she reached up and brushed his hair back. “So am I.”

“I’ll be right back.” He leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose. “Don’t go anywhere.” He pulled from her body and got out of bed. She watched him walk to a door on the other side of the room, finally getting a proper look at his very fine ass.

Yeah, she wasn’t going anywhere…for now.

Chapter Two An Unsuccessful Walk of Shame… Breakfast Included

Consciousness hit Harper about two seconds before she opened her eyes, and in that one brief moment all she knew was contentment. But then her eyes did open and reality set in. Well, it set in after she blinked a few times, the sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows temporarily blinding her.

As her eyes adjusted she took in the open-beam ceiling—that went on for days—above her, before she turned her head to the side to find a naked man next to her.

Liam was fast asleep, his face buried in the pillow and his dark brown hair rumpled all around his head. One of his arms was wrapped around her stomach, his hand on her hip.

Everything about last night came back to her in an instant.

His hand at the small of her back as he’d leaned in close to her at the bar. His lips at her ear, the sound of his rich southern draw filling her up with a warmth that had absolutely nothing to do with the alcohol.

She couldn’t even blame her actions on drinking because she’d been fully and totally in control of herself when she’d decided to go home with him…well, unless she could count being drunk on lust. And as she remembered the countless out-of-body experiences he’d given her throughout the night, she wasn’t quick to discount it, either.

The thing was, she’d spent about seven conscious hours with the man, but it didn’t feel like she’d just met him. No, it felt like something much more.

But none of that changed the fact that Harper did not do one-night stands. She didn’t even dabble in them, didn’t even stick her toe in the water. So to say this was out of character would be an understatement. Yet there she was, waking up next to a guy she’d only just met on the morning that should’ve been her wedding.

Oh. Good. God.

The wedding that would never be to the man who had left her. Brad had been far from her thoughts. She’d been entirely focused on Liam, and why wouldn’t she be? He made her laugh, made her come harder than she’d ever come in her entire life…and made her forget everything besides him and her.

She couldn’t do this again. Wasn’t ready for another man in her life—not that Liam wanted to be a part of her life. Hell, he’d probably be trying to get rid of her the second he opened his eyes. Harper chose not to focus on the fact that the thought of him wanting her gone was worse than anything else.

Nope. She wasn’t going to do it. Instead she was going to get out of there. Stat.

Priority number one: getting dressed.

She sat up ever so slowly, gently pulling Liam’s hand from her body before she got out of bed. Her clothes were scattered all around the room and she had to stop herself from groaning out loud at the sight before her. She started gathering the garments as fast as she could, cataloging as she went.

Panties: hanging from a knob on the dresser. Check.

Shirt: at the foot of the bed. Check.

Pants: on top of a chair in the corner. Check.

Boots: the right was in the middle of the floor. Check. And the left…was…just peeking out from under the side of the bed. Check.

Purse: sitting in the entryway of the bedroom and miraculously still zipped up…unlike her pants. Check.

Bra…bra…nope, no bra.

Where the hell was it?

Liam shifted in the bed, his arms flexing as he buried his face farther into the pillow. Her bra was just going to have to be a casualty. There was no time to waste.

She headed out of the room in search of a bathroom, being careful to move as quietly as possible across the hardwood floors. Every time a board squeaked her heart flew up into her throat. She made it to the end of the hallway before she found a bathroom and ducked inside, closing the door behind her with an unavoidable—and very audible—snap. But it was nothing to the flush of the toilet a minute later, though there was no avoiding that, either.

She dressed quickly, her ample chest looking downright indecent in her shirt sans bra. But there was nothing for it.