Harper walked down the sidewalk in a broken heel. Michael, her boyfriend of four months, had jogged after her when she left their 'romantic' dinner because he'd been flirting with the waitress.
She'd known when she left the table that she was done. When he'd loomed over her on the sidewalk and called her a harpy, she'd shoved him away and started walking.
Then one of her heels had gotten caught in a storm drain as she'd stomped off, so she walked down the street like a carousel horse, up and down, up and down.
She'd thought Michael was a nice guy, but over the last few weeks, he'd shown his true colors and they were different shades of green. He was jealous that she made more money than he did.
She heard the roar of an engine coming up behind her and she took her cell phone out. If Michael made one threatening move, she was going to dial 9–1–1.
The engine was too sharp, too guttural to be Michael's sports car. She didn't look over her shoulder. Whether it was Michael or not, she wasn't wasting her time.
Rather than dialing 9–1–1, Harper opened the app on her phone to schedule a ride home. The engine slowed, but she still didn't look.
The deep voice had the hair on her arms rising. She did look then. And what she saw took her breath away. The man was big, both in stature and musculature. He stood tall, his feet wide as he held his motorcycle still between his legs.
Though she'd call his eyes a sweet shade of baby blue, they weren't innocent at all. They were hard, and she felt like he saw things she'd rather keep hidden.
She nodded once.
"You need a lift?"
Harper opened her mouth to say no, but then she saw Michael's red Porsche pull on to the street. She sent up a prayer the biker wasn't a murder, hiked up her skirt and lifted her leg over the motorcycle.
The biker turned and gave her a big grin. He was so gorgeous, she felt a little dizzy and dazzled. He produced a helmet from somewhere and while she put it on, he reached down and broke off the heel of her good shoe.
"Hey," she protested.
"You'll thank me. It'll be much easier to ride."
"Harper, for fuck's sake, what are you doing?" Michael called. He had the convertible top down. She'd thought him sexy when she'd first seen him in that car, but she had nothing on The Biker.
She looked straight ahead and wrapped her arms around the man in front of her. He revved his engine, drowning out Michaels' next words. They only caught the end of the sentence, "really going to ride off with this grease monkey?"
When the engine mellowed to a purr, Biker laughed, shook his head, flipped Michael off and pulled away.
They rode down the streets of Los Angeles for a while. She'd never ridden on a motorcycle before, but she found she loved it - even though she was sure to have helmet hair. When they stopped at a stoplight, he tapped the hand wrapped around his waist.
"Where to, princess?"
She wasn't sure whether to be offended by the name. She also wasn't sure she wanted to give him her address. Partly for safety, but mostly because if he found her sexy at all, he'd probably lose all interest when he drove through her neighborhood.
Instead, she gave him the address to her office. He gave a sharp nod, then pressed the accelerator when the light turned green.
He pulled over in front of her office building. "This where you work?"
"You afraid to tell me where you live even after I saved you from that asshole?"
"Not for the reasons you think."
"And what reasons are those?"
She lifted her leg over the bike and stepped back. Her shoes felt awkward and pinched her toes even more than they had when they had heels, so she took them off and dangled them from her fingers.
"Why did you help me?"
He shook his head as if the question wasn't what he expected. "I saw what happened. I didn't like the way he was touching you. I knew he'd chase you down."
"How did you know?"
He smiled. "Look at you."
Was he saying she was attractive enough to come after?
"So, what were those reasons?"
She looked down at her red shoes. "I…" why was she afraid to tell people she was successful? No. Not people. Men. "I tend to intimidate men with my success."
"So you don't want me to see how big your house is?"
She shook her head.
"Why don't you show me how big your office is, then?"
She looked up into his blue eyes. He wanted her. It was probably just for a quick fuck, but she couldn't remember the last time someone had looked at her with that much lust in their eyes.
She nodded and dug in her purse for her keys.
He turned off his bike and kicked down a stand, much like a bicycle kick stand. He held out a hand, and it took her a moment to realize she was still wearing the helmet he'd given her. She unstrapped it and handed it back before trying to smooth down her hair.
"You're just as gorgeous as before," he said. "Don't fuss."
She lowered her hand. His words had been harsh, yet kind, and she hoped honest. She pulled the card out of her wallet that would give her access to the front door of the building.
There were cameras inside, but she knew where they were and none of them were in her office. She swiped her card and pulled the door when the lock disengaged.
She worked enough late nights that the security guards paid little attention to her, though they made Biker sign in as a visitor. She looked over his shoulder as he scribbled his name. She was disappointed she couldn't read what he wrote. She didn't want to think of him as Biker forever.
He followed her to the elevator and stepped in after her. She pressed the button for the eleventh floor.
"What's your name?"
Of course he had a sexy name. She chuckled as she shook her head.
"My Name's funny?"
"No. Just that it suits you so well. How did your parents know you'd be a biker?"
"Maybe because my dad's a collector too."
"Your dad collects motorcycles?"
Gage nodded. "Classics."
When they stepped into her office, she didn't know what to do. She closed the door for privacy, but she wasn't sure if he wanted to have sex with her or if he was just toying with her.
"Now it's my turn to ask a question," he said.
"Do you always match your panties with your high heels?"
She opened her mouth, then closed it. Her panties were red. He must have seen them when she got on his bike. "Not on purpose," she finally said.
"It's a shame about your shoes. I was hoping to see you in nothing but the shoes and those lace panties." He stepped closer. "Your bare feet are sexy too. Why don't you show me your panties with your bare feet?"
Harper licked her lips. "Just my panties?"
He gave her a crooked grin. "Don't play games, Harper. Take off everything but those panties."
She pulled her dress up and over her head. When she reached around to unhook her bra, he stopped her.
"I'll take care of the rest," he said. "Go sit in your chair."
Harper did as he asked.
He looked at her for a moment as if he were a painter, judging whether he wanted her sitting just that way.
"Spread your legs."
He knelt between her legs as she spread them wide. He took each of her ankles and gently lifted them, placing them on the edge of her leather office chair. Then he leaned forward and licked her through the lace of her panties.
Harper slid her fingers into his hair and held on as he licked and sucked her. She was panting when he pulled back. She felt bereft. She needed more.
He hooked a finger into her panties and pulled them aside before diving back in. He pressed his tongue inside her and groaned at her taste. The vibrations zinged her clit. She made the most embarrassing noises as he used his tongue to play her like violin.
She mewled. She grunted. She fucking begged.
It was her pleas that seemed to soften him. He thrust two fingers inside her and sucked her clit at the same time. Her back arched until all she saw was the white of the ceiling. Her fingers were knotted so tight in his hair, she worried he'd be bald when she finally let go.
Her body finally floated down from the high he'd given her. When she released him, he immediately stood and unbuttoned his jeans. He pulled a condom wrapper from his wallet before tossing it aside. Then he pushed his pants down just far enough for his cock to spring free. His big cock.
Her clit still throbbed from her orgasm, but she still wanted him inside her. When she looked up, his eyes were wild and so was his hair.
"Sorry about your hair," she said.
"You don't ever have to apologize to me for taking what you need."
Her heart thudded at his response. When had her heart gotten involved in this?
Gage scooped his hands under her ass and lifted her from the chair, only to set her on the desk. He pulled her panties off, then hooked a finger in each of her bra cups and yanked them down so her breasts were bare, but the under wire held them up.
"I'm on edge," he warned. "So it's going to be hard and fast."
She nodded as he stepped between her thighs. He thrust in to the hilt. Harper gasped. She'd never been stretched so good. She felt every ridge of him as he moved in and out of her. He fucked her so hard, the desk jolted its way across the floor.
Gage hooked his arms under her legs and spread her even wider. He leaned down and sucked her nipple into mouth.
When it popped free, he groaned, "you're so fucking tight."
"That's because you're so fucking big."
He smiled down at her. "I'm not going to last."
"You already took care of me," she said.
He shook his head and reached between them. He flicked her clit. She gasped. She was lucky when she found someone who made her come once. He seemed determined to make her come twice.
"Will you think about this on Monday when you walk into your office?" he asked. "Will you remember how I spread you on your chair, buried my head between your legs, and made you scream?"
"Oh God," she said as she felt something building within her.
"Will it make you wet to think about it?"
"Yes," she hissed as he sped up his thrusts.
"Good. Remember how you took what you wanted from me. Take what you need."
Harper reached between them and pressed his fingers harder against her clit and slowed the circles he drew even as his hips sped up. She wrapped her legs around his waist. She curled her toes and clenched her inner muscles, determined to pull him over the edge with her.
Harper's vision blurred as he panted above her.
Wow. The word just kept repeating over and over in her head as they dressed and as she escorted him back down to the lobby.
She didn't know what to say, so she settled on, "thank you."
He chuckled. "Now you sound like a lawyer."
"I didn't before?"
"I don't know what else to say."
"Don't say anything." He smiled.
"I still think thank you is appropriate. Goodbye, Gage."
"This isn't goodbye. You'll see me again, Harper."
She watched as he climbed on his motorcycle, revved the engine and pulled away. Then she let her smile grow wide. He wanted to see her again.