***---Garret---***
Everything hinged on the scratch of a pen.
I stood still as a stone, mask in one hand, fists clenched at my sides, watching her. The pen trembled between her fingers, her eyes on the contract like it might bite her. I didn't breathe.
Then she pressed the pen to the paper.
One slow, deliberate stroke. The H, the A, the R. Harper Lane curling across the line in neat, certain letters.
It gutted me. Relief slammed into my chest so hard my knees almost buckled.
She finished the last swirl and set the pen down with steady fingers. Her chin lifted like a dare.
My Harper. Signed. She fucking signed it. Mine.
I moved before I thought.
Her mask was gone in one tug, falling to the table as I bent and crushed my mouth to hers. Hard and claiming. The kiss was teeth and heat and years of starving wrapped into one messy collision. She gasped and I swallowed it, my tongue sliding against hers, my hand fisting in her hair.
The folder was in my other hand before the kiss broke. I scooped her up with it, coat and all, her legs clinging instinctively to my waist. She yelped, muffled against my mouth. She was protesting half-heartedly, and I shut it down with another deep, filthy kiss.
"You're mine." I growled against her lips.
The door was open, the hall blurred, and then we were outside the room. I didn't care who saw. Let them. I had the contract. I had her.
The car door shut behind us, the driver pulling away. I hit the button that slid the window shut between us and the front. Privacy. Then I was on her again, dragging her onto the seat, shoving her thighs open under her coat.
"Garret…" She started.
I kissed her hard enough to make her forget words. My hands were already between her legs, tugging her panties aside, my mouth sliding down her stomach. She tasted like heat and panic and home.
"Not allowed to come." I muttered against her thigh. "Do you hear me? Not until I say."
Her back arched, her fingers fisting in my hair. "God!"
"Say it!" I licked her, slow and deliberate, stopping short of her clit just to hear her whimper.
"Not allowed to come!" She gasped.
"Good girl." My mouth closed over her, tongue flicking, sucking. She jolted, thighs trembling. I kept her right there, edging. Dragging her higher and higher, then pulling back just as she started to break.
She sobbed my name. I didn't stop. The entire ride I teased her, pushing her close, stealing it back, over and over until her skin glowed and her chest heaved like she'd run miles.
The car stopped. I pulled her skirt down like nothing had happened, scooped the folder back up, and hauled her out with me.
I hustled across the parking lot and into the elevator.
The elevator doors shut behind us. Finally. Privacy.
I shoved her against the wall and kissed her like I was drowning. Her legs wrapped around my waist again, her coat slipping from her shoulders to the floor. I yanked at her panties and the fabric ripped in my fingers. Fuck me. I kissed her hard and shoved inside her in one brutal stroke.
She cried out, nails raking my shoulders. The sound was pure sin.
"Mine!" I hissed into her mouth. "You're fucking mine."
The elevator climbed slow. Too slow. I railed into her, hips snapping hard, the sound of skin on skin echoing in the closed space. Her head hit the mirrored wall, her teeth sinking into my lip.
The doors dinged open and I carried her through, stumbling into the penthouse, not stopping until we crashed into my bedroom.
I didn't wait. I didn't slow. I took her hard, against the door, against the bed, wherever I could get my hands on her. It was madness, relief, obsession breaking free all at once.
"Come for me!" My words were ragged and she obeyed instantly, her body clenching around me.
My rhythm stuttered, and that tingle swept through me. "Oh fuck!"
When I finally spilled inside her, she clung to me like she'd never let go.
And guilt struck me sharp enough to steal my breath.
I should've waited. Should've taken her to my bed, undressed her slow, made her first night here something better than me losing control like a fucking animal.
I kissed her temple, gentler this time. "Bath." I whispered, because I needed to fix it, even if I couldn't undo the way I'd taken her.
I ran the water hot and went back for her.
The water steamed, curling mist against the mirrors. Vanilla and cedar filled the room. I eased her into the tub and watched the tension slide from her shoulders, her eyes fluttering shut.
God, she was beautiful like this. Wrecked and trusting. Mine.
I dipped the washcloth, ran it along her arm, over her shoulder, down the line of her collarbone. She sighed, and it shot straight through me. My chest ached with how badly I wanted to keep her here. Always here.
"Lean back." I murmured.
She did, head tilting against the edge of the tub. I scooped water and poured it over her hair, watching the strands darken and cling to her skin. My fingers slid through the waves, massaging her scalp slowly and deliberately. She shivered.
"You're safe." I whispered, even though I wasn't sure if I was promising her or myself. "No one else touches you. No one else gets this."
Her lips parted, eyes still closed. She didn't argue. She didn't have to. I knew she heard me.
I reached for the glass I'd set on the edge of the tub. Pressed it to her lips. "Drink."
She sipped, obedient, a droplet trailing down her chin. I caught it with my thumb, rubbing it away.
"More." I sighed. She took another swallow.
Good girl.
I rinsed her hair again, fingers sliding gentle circles at her temples. Reverence. Worship. The opposite of the way I'd just fucked her into the wall. Both parts were mine to give. Both parts were hers to take.
When her eyes opened, heavy-lidded, I leaned close. "You understand, don't you? You're not leaving. You're mine. My penthouse. My bed. My hands. You'll have your room. Your escape hatch. But you'll always come back here. To me."
Her throat worked. She didn't say yes. She didn't say no. She just watched me, quiet, her lips parted, her body loose in the water I'd drawn.
It was enough. For now.
I wrung out the cloth and traced it down her chest, over the swell of her breasts, skimming her ribs. She shivered, but didn't stop me. Her trust burned me alive.
"Tomorrow." My voice was thick. "I'll take you slow. I'll lay you out on my bed and make it right. Tonight was madness. I lost it. But I'll fix it."
She closed her eyes again, the corner of her mouth curving, almost a smile.
I pressed my lips to her damp forehead. "Sleep after this. I'll carry you to bed. You'll wake up in your room. In my home. And you'll stay."
The knot in my chest loosened with every word. She was here. Signed. Washed. Tethered.
And I wasn't letting go.