Chapter Eight
Levi
Sex. That’s what I have in mind. I really want Harper in my bed. Or hers. Actually, the backseat of my car will do just fine, too. Anywhere I can get under that sexy dress of hers. She’s had me semi-hard all night. She smells like summer, laughs like no one’s listening, and she’s got this way about her that keeps my interest nonstop. She’s been a great distraction from thinking about what I’ll miss at the seminar with Leo Gaines tomorrow. And it’s that, combined with my desire to do something with her she’s never done, that has me wanting to play a little longer before I take her home.
I make a quick left onto a small residential street off Santa Monica Boulevard, then pull a U-turn and park near the Electric Fountain. This late at night there’s no one around the recently restored historic fountain illuminated by a changing pattern of colored lights.
“What do you say we open that champagne then skinny-dip in the fountain?” I ask, releasing my seat belt. That I’m dying to see her naked again might have something to do with my suggestion, too.
Harper searches my eyes for clues I’m serious. I help her out. “Unless you’re chicken.”
With a straight face, she unclicks her seat belt, picks up the bottle of champagne, and proceeds to pop the cork like a champ. She takes a swig, her full lips wrapped around the bottle, her eyes never leaving mine. My dick twitches as I imagine her gorgeous mouth sucking me deep. Full disclosure: I’ve been picturing this every damn night for the past two months.
“Your turn.” She hands me the bottle as her tongue licks across her full bottom lip. If she’s trying to torture me, it’s working.
Our fingers brush when I accept the Dom Perignon, and once again, the small, effortless touch isn’t enough. I take a small gulp of the sparkling drink, mindful I’m driving. When finished, I pass it back. “So, your cousin said something interesting to me tonight.”
“Shit.”
I laugh. The harder Harper tries to keep me at arm’s length, the more her family tries to draw me in. “Since you’re sitting at the head table during the wedding reception, she wanted me to know I’ll be sitting with your brothers.”
She chokes on the champagne. “What the hell? I never RSVP’d you were my plus-one.”
“Your mom did.”
Harper’s head falls back against the seat, chin up, eyes closed. “That woman is impossible. I’ll tell them you’re not coming to the wedding.”
“I don’t mind.”
“I do.”
“All right. Whatever you want.”
“That’s it? Just like that, you’re not coming now?” She shifts positions, drawing her legs up so she’s sitting on them and facing me. I hadn’t noticed that she’d slipped off her shoes.
“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable around your family.”
“You don’t do that.”
“You sure? I think I do.”
“No. You don’t. Not even a little. But…”
“But what?”
“I did tell my mom I had a date so she wouldn’t bug me about it. I was planning to find a random guy to go with me, so I guess since she thinks it’s you…” She takes a drink, extends me the bottle.
I put my palm over my heart. “How magnanimous of you.”
“I know,” she teases. “Don’t you forget it.”
“So I am going to the wedding?”
“Yes.”
The champagne tastes much better going down this time. It shouldn’t. I’m walking a fine line here, but I can’t stop myself. “Is green still your favorite color?” I ask. We continue to hand the bottle back and forth.
“That just came out of nowhere.”
“The fountain flashed green, and I figure I should know a few more personal things about my wedding date.”
She glances out the passenger window. “It’s pretty, isn’t it? And yes.”
“Mine is brown, in case you were wondering.”
Her eyes—my specific favorite shade of brown—reconnect with mine. “Netflix or HBO?” she asks.
I love that she asked me a question like that. Being a cameraman, of course I enjoy television as much as film. “Both are sick.”
“I’m obsessed with Stranger Things.”
“Agreed. It’s awesome.”
“Remember when we fed Milo cereal for breakfast?” She wipes the back of her thumb down the corner of her mouth to catch a drop of champagne. How she made the leap from television to cereal, I don’t know, and I find myself wanting to figure out everything about her.
“Cap’n Crunch’s Crunch Berries.” It was my favorite as a kid. We poured my dog, Milo, a huge amount, added milk, and made a big mess on the kitchen floor when we overfilled the bowl.
“And it turned his tongue—”
“Blue,” we say at the same time and crack up.
Harper’s smile is radiant. Mesmerizing. A carefree and beautiful expression she doesn’t share often enough. When she belches, very unladylike, she puts her palm over her mouth, mutters, “excuse me,” and laughs harder.
The temperature in the jeep rises while we grin at each other. We laughed like this the night we slept together, and I’m pretty sure she’s remembering that right now, too. She hands me the champagne then tucks her hands under her legs as she quiets. It’s deliberate, like she’s trying to keep herself from touching me. I stare at her mouth. Slide my gaze down her neck to the soft, delicate skin at the base of her throat. Continue the once-over to her round, pert tits. Her dress hugs every inch of her body in a sophisticated, sexy way that makes it hard to concentrate on anything else.
I lean forward, hoping my intentions are clear. I’ve been aching to kiss her full, pink mouth all night. I’m afraid if I ask, she’ll say no, so I’m going for it.
She doesn’t move, doesn’t meet me half way. Shit. I’m about to pull back, when she cants her head, giving me the okay. Thank God.
Our noses touch first. Her long lashes sweep down. I keep my eyes open as our lips touch, tentative at first because I don’t want to blow this. She could change her mind, push me away at any moment.
Her lips press more firmly against mine, then she sighs in surrender, giving me the final go-ahead. I love the breathy sound so much, my control snaps. The champagne bottle slips through my fingers to the floor mat at my feet. I cup her face in my hands. The kiss escalates quickly after that. Tongue, teeth, and the taste of Dom mix with Harper’s one-of-a-kind flavor. I lick inside her mouth, explore with long, thorough strokes, devour what is mine tonight.
I groan when her hands slip under my shirt. She’s warm, soft…needy. She lifts the material up and over my head, momentarily breaking our connection. I’m ready to resume where we left off, but get mouth-blocked when she puts her fingers to my lips. “Let’s do this,” she says playfully, then opens her door to slide out of the car. “And bring the champagne!”
Operation Skinny-Dip is apparently in motion.
I’m out my door and chasing her down the short path to the fountain two seconds later. It’s quiet and still, the air chilly. I try to recall if I have a sweatshirt in the backseat so I can wrap her up afterward.
She waits for me at the back of the fountain. It’s a large circular design with a sculpture of a Native American man in the center.
“How many times have you done this?” She takes the champagne from me and sips.
I never thought drinking directly from a bottle was a turn-on until now. “Skinny-dip in general, or skinny-dip in this fountain?”
“In general.”
“Twice.” I’ve got my shoes and socks off and am working on my belt. “I was surprised to find out you’ve never done it, especially given how much you love to swim.”
She puts the champagne on the tiled brim of the fountain and shrugs. “This happens to be one of the few things I haven’t experienced.”
All of a sudden, I have a feeling there’s a good reason why she hasn’t, and it bothers me to think she’s doing it now only because she doesn’t want to admit defeat. “We don’t have to.”
“You chickening out on me?” Her tone is back to playful, and whatever pensive vibe I briefly got from her is gone.
I look around. It’s one o’clock in the morning, we’re alone, and while we’re close to a pretty big intersection, I don’t see a car, and I’m not about to give up the opportunity to get Harper naked. “No way.”
“Good.” Hands on the hem of her dress, she pulls it up and over her head. Her bra and thong follow. She gathers her long, wavy hair and ties it in a knot on top of her head. No modesty. No fear. She’s wearing nothing but a silver locket around her neck. The piercing in her belly button sparkles. She is spectacular.
This is definitely the best idea I’ve had in a long time.
“Hurry up, slowpoke.” She flashes me a quick smile, her tongue darting out before she spins around and shows me her incredible ass as she steps into the water.
I drop my pants and boxer briefs.
“Fuck, it’s cold,” she announces.
“I can make it better.” I leap into the fountain, making a splash. She squeals and splashes me back. We’re standing in two feet of water, so I figure the best way to warm up is to jump around and have a water fight. I tease her with “You splash like a girl!” To which Harper says, “I am a girl! You splash like a baby!” To which I say, “Is that the best you’ve got, Ham?”
After a minute, Harper visibly shivers. She’s cold—not to mention, we shouldn’t press our luck out here. The base of the fountain hides us from clear view of the main road, but there is a house a couple hundred feet away, and we haven’t been exactly quiet. “You ready to run back to the car?” I ask.
“Yes!”
We turn so we’re shoulder-to-shoulder to climb out of the fountain and immediately freeze. Standing a few feet away, arms crossed over a hefty chest, an amused but tough expression on his mustached face, is a police officer.
“Shit,” I mumble and jump in front of Harper to hide her nakedness. She probably doesn’t care, but I don’t want anyone else seeing her.
“Fuck,” she whispers from behind me.
I reach my right arm back to wrap around her waist and cover my junk with my left hand. She tucks herself against me, her tits pressed against my skin, her arms holding on to my middle.
“Why don’t you kids put your clothes back on?”
“Yes, officer,” I say.
I help Harper out of the water, trying to keep her from view. My back is to the officer, my focus on her and getting through this situation as quickly as possible.
In my periphery, I’m aware of someone else approaching. Then I hear laughter. And not just any laughter. But a familiar snicker I know well. I glance over my shoulder.
My brother-in-law, Tim, is standing beside the other cop, his arms crossed over his chest, and a big, toothy smile on his face. He doesn’t usually work the graveyard shift, so I’m surprised to see him. Happy, too. Mostly. He’ll let me and Harper walk, but no doubt I’ll be the butt of the joke—no pun intended—for the next few family gatherings. Maybe more.
“Hey,” I say.
He raises his eyebrows. “Hey, bro.”
“You know these kids?” Officer First On The Scene asks.
“I know the male perp.”
I roll my eyes. So it’s going to go like that. I turn back to Harper and try to block her from view, but it’s impossible to shield her completely. “That’s my brother-in-law,” I whisper, hoping to ease some of the anxiety on her face, but her eyes widen instead.
I watch as she slips her dress back on over her head. The stretchy material clings to her more than usual, given her wet body, and she struggles to smooth it down. She pulls on her underwear next then folds up her bra and holds it in her hand. “I’m good,” she says quietly, but she isn’t. Her lips are in a thin, disturbed line. Her breathing is a little ragged. For a girl who I thought didn’t take anything too seriously, she is seriously upset right now, and I need to fix this.
“I’m sorry,” I say sincerely. Really fucking sorry that I’ve made her upset. I pull on my pants, tucking my underwear in the pocket then stuff my socks in my shoes and pick them up.
“You kids twenty-one?” the officer with the mustache asks. He’s holding the bottle of champagne.
I look at my brother-in-law. Seriously? my expression says.
“Yes,” Harper answers.
“ID?”
“In the car,” she says.
“You two know indecent exposure is a misdemeanor?” Mustached Cop asks.
I glare at Tim now. Joke’s over, dude. Yes, we were skinny-dipping in a public place, but no harm, no foul, and if he doesn’t say something to his partner in the next five seconds, I’m going to tell my sister, Hadley, about the time he—
Tim cracks up. The other officer, too. “Thanks, Dwight,” Tim says. “I’ve got this.”
“Did you see the look on his face?” Dwight asks. I assume he’s talking about me.
“Priceless,” my douche brother-in-law says. They must have planned this when my back was turned to shield Harper. Speaking of Harper, I glance at her. While I’ve relaxed immensely, she’s still frowning. Her arms are crossed over her chest. She’s shivering.
“Can we take this to the car so I can grab Harper a sweatshirt?” I ask.
“Absolutely,” Tim says. Dwight walks ahead of the three of us.
“You’re an ass,” I tell Tim.
“And you were breaking the law, my friend.”
“Are we in trouble?” Harper asks.
“Nah. Just wanted to have a little fun with my brother-in-law. Harper, is it? I’m Tim.”
“Hey,” she says.
We get to my jeep—the police car is parked right behind us—and I reach into the backseat for the sweatshirt. Harper quickly puts it on. It falls to the middle of her thighs, and I feel better now that she’s covered in something more substantial.
“So, what preceded this case of indecent exposure?”
“Would you knock it off?” My eyes shift from Tim to Harper and back to my brother-in-law. Harper is mangling the bra in her hands. It doesn’t take a genius to see that, despite our luck in this situation, she’s still not happy about it. She wants this to be over with. I do, too, more for her sake than mine.
“Seriously,” Tim says, his attention on me. “I didn’t know you were dating anyone.”
“We’re not dating,” Harper is quick to say. While true, it bothers me hearing her say it with such conviction.
“This isn’t one of those bets with Elliot, is it?”
“No,” I’m quick to answer this time. It’s the truth. Skinny-dipping was all my idea. If I wanted to just sleep with Harper, I would have taken her straight home. That I didn’t is something I’ll think about later. “We were at her cousin’s bridal shower and a game of Have You Ever led us here.”
“So I can write this up as your first offense, then?”
“You’re hilarious,” I deadpan.
He grins. “Tell you what, I’ll let you two go with a verbal warning.”
Like I ever doubted that. My brother-in-law is a damn good officer and takes his job very seriously, but a quick skinny-dip isn’t a big deal. If he’d caught me doing something really criminal, he’d have handcuffs on me. He’d hate it, but he’d do it. The guy is the most upstanding person I know. “Thank you, officer,” I say respectfully.
“Don’t mention it.”
“Good idea.” Let’s definitely keep this between us and not my nosy sisters.
“Oh, I didn’t mean I wouldn’t be mentioning it.”
“Tim, come on. Isn’t there some kind of cop-offender confidentiality thing?” I know. Stupid question.
He laughs. “Even if there were, we’re family.” He wraps his arm around my shoulders. “And you know your sisters like to get all up in everyone’s business.”
Shit.
“Bring Harper home safely, then yourself.” He gives a casual salute. “Good night.”
I open the car door for Harper before going around to my side. Tim and his partner wait for me to pull away from the curb before they do. A second later, Harper breaks the uncomfortable silence between us and goes off like a firecracker on steroids.
“I cannot fucking believe you did this to me!”
“Me? We both agreed to this. I didn’t do anything to you.”
She rolls her bottom lip between her teeth. “You’re right,” she relents. “It’s just…”
“Just what?”
“Your brother-in-law saw me naked!”
“He’s a professional. I don’t think he was really looking.” He absolutely was. Harper’s body is a thing of beauty, but I don’t think she’d appreciate me mentioning that.
She pushes me in the arm. Yeah. No. And all of a sudden, my emotions are up, down, and sideways, because I hate that Tim saw all her soft, tanned skin, her perfectly round breasts, her—
“He’s going to tell your family.”
“It’s not a big deal.”
“Not a big deal?” she practically screams. She fidgets in her seat, brings her hand to her mouth to bite her nail, then thinks better of it and drops her arm. “What is Brad going to think?”
Ah, that’s what’s really bothering her.
“He’s not going to want me to be his ambassador if he finds out.”
“Harp—”
“Do not tell me I’m overreacting!” Damn. I was about to say that. “This is my life we’re talking about, and I really want this job, and now I’ve screwed it up.” She stares out the window, tension filling the car even though her focus is outward.
“I’ll talk to him. Make sure things are right.”
“No.” She turns her head to look at me. “Please don’t. I’ll figure out a way to tell him myself.” Her body completely deflates. “This is the worst…” She trails off abruptly and angles her face away from me.
“Day ever?”
She doesn’t answer. I reach over to take her hand, but she moves it out of my grasp. “I’m sorry,” I say again, unsure what else I can do to fix things.
I feel like shit that this happened, but I didn’t do it on purpose. And I get that she’s pissed, but I can talk to Tim and negotiate with him to keep what happened to himself.
“Could you please just stop talking.” Her voice is flat, annoyed. She’s not asking me. She’s telling me.
The streets of Beverly Hills are deserted, so I’ve got her home a minute later. She spares me a glance over her shoulder as she opens the car door before I even come to a complete stop. “Good night.”
“Hang on. Let me walk you to your door.” The strain between us sucks, and I need to make it better.
“No,” she says firmly. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not.”
She pauses. “Okay, fine. You’re right. But I need to be by myself right now, so please leave me alone.” The door slams, and she’s gone.
I watch her jog away until she’s out of sight. It bothers me, letting her go when she’s upset, and I have the strong impulse to chase after her. She told you to leave her alone. I’m usually the kind of guy who respects a request. But with Harper, doing what I’m told will get me nowhere. I’d rather fight with her than let her slip away.
My decision is made for me when I notice she forgot her shoes. The shiny gold heels are my in. She’d want them returned to her right away, wouldn’t she? She may need to wear them tomorrow. Yeah, that’s the stupid thing I tell myself as I climb out of the car.
She’ll probably want to punch me when she finds me on her doorstep.
Wish me luck.