Page 40 of All In

“The last night. I figured it would be romantic.” He scoffs, leaning over to open his suitcase. “So much for that.”

And that right there is the reason I have to be careful with the married-with-benefits thing. It sounds amazing on paper, and I’d love to jump all in, take what I want and need from Harlow, and have my fill—if such a thing even exists—but it’s dangerous.

I’ve always survived my love for Harlow because even with the way he’s always been overly affectionate with me, there’s always been a certain level of distance.

It’s easier to deal with how much I want him when I don’t know what his tongue tastes like. It was simpler to avoid the enormity of my feelings when he was engaged to someone else. It hurt in its own way, sure, but it also gave me protective armor.

Now? I’m not sure how I’m supposed to balance my feelings and him apparently wanting sex and our sham marriage.

I think I’m just gonna roll with it and hope I come out the other side.

“You’re quiet,” he says, snapping me out of my thoughts.

He’s standing in the middle of the room in nothing but skin-tight royal blue briefs. My throat goes dry, and if I was quiet before, I surely can’t form words now. “Sorry,” I croak out. “What did you say?”

“I said it was supposed to be romantic. So much for that.”

No, I heard that. Just forgot to respond, I guess. “Yeah, I mean, we can still have fun, though. Get dressed up all fancy and make up stories about people’s lives.”

Harlow laughs, leaning over to pick up a t-shirt off the ground. Is he doing this on purpose? Surely he’s not. But then, Harlow is used to getting what he wants, and especially from me, so I wouldn’t put it past him to tease me a little for telling him not right now to sex.

Truly, I don’t care about spontaneity. I cared about needing a second to get my thoughts in order before I dropped my armor and went there with him.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve done that,” he muses, pulling the shirt over his head before stepping into a pair of tight jeans. “Well, I’m ready.” Putting his hands on his hips, he cocks his head. “Are you just gonna sit there all night?”

I shake my head, then push to my feet. Maybe it’s not the best choice, but if he is teasing me… Well, two can play at that game.

Shoving my sweats to the floor, I step out of them, carefully adjusting myself in my boxers.

I’m not looking at Harlow, but he’s looking at me. If the way I can feel his gaze didn’t give him away, the way he blew out a sharp breath when my sweats hit the ground would have.

Ignoring his attention, I toss my shirt over my head, then pick up the suitcase and lay it on the bed before pulling clothes out.

I’m not sure how I resist the temptation to look at Harlow while I’m getting dressed, but somehow, I manage, and when I’m fully clothed, I finally glance at him. “You ready?”

His cheeks are slightly flushed, and his throat bobs with a swallow before he finally finds my eyes and nods.

Offering him my hand, I help him to his feet, and we walk into the hallway and toward the elevators, still holding hands.

I should have known that Harlow would never give me a moment of peace because the second we step inside, he turns to me with a grin. “You know, I’ve never been kissed in an elevator.”

Humming, I grin back. “Is that right?”

He’s the picture of innocence. Or so he fucking thinks. He nods solemnly, his blue eyes earnest.

The elevator starts its descent, and I turn quickly, grabbing his face and pressing him against the wall. His eyes dart to the side before finding mine again.

I lean closer, hovering my mouth over his. His breath punches out of him, and he tilts his head back.

“Should I kiss you in the elevator?” I whisper, my lips catching on his as I move closer.

The breathy noise he lets out has blood rushing to my cock. “What kind of husband would you be if you didn’t?”

Well, he’s got me there.

Tightening my grip on his jaw, I drag him closer, then slot my lips over his. He moans into my mouth, his lips moving fervently over mine and his hands scrabbling for purchase on my back.

Dragging my thumbs along his cheekbones, I use my grip to tilt his head, deepening the kiss as I press my body into his, caging him in entirely against the wall.