Bonus Scene 2: The Haircut

HARPER

I stared out the window of the little coffee shop where I’d just met up with Lilly St. Clair to plot a murder over a fresh-baked muffin and some very overpriced coffee, waiting for one of my black knights to come pick me up and whisk me off to who knew where. My money was on Rowan–he was a stickler for a plan, and a schedule. I was a free spirit, and the constant demand for me to be on time to everything and everywhere at all times was really starting to drive me up a wall.

It was almost as bad as Nash and his constant chaos, which I was convinced he only perpetuated to piss Ro off.

And then there was Angel. He didn’t rock the boat, preferring to deal with his brothers in peace–or by beating the shit out of Nash, as was par for the course for as long as I’d known them.

Lilly had been gone an hour, and if someone didn’t show up to pick me up soon, I was going to slip into the danger zone and buy another espresso. Or three.

Let the guys deal with an over-caffeinated Harper. See if they were ever late again.

Okay, that was unfair. It wasn’t like I’d told them exactly how long I planned to be out and about. And had I been willing to walk, I could have killed time at the salon, getting those pretty claw nails Nash had spotted on my phone the other day.

His birthday was coming up soon, and I wanted to leave him with some marks to remember it by.

The Torino was impossible to miss, even in Port Wylde–the paint job alone was worth more than some people’s houses. When the void-black beast rolled into the parking lot, it drew my eye almost like a magnet, like it sucked in the light around it and refused to let it go. With a last little wave at the cute barista girl behind the counter and a carefully-placed twenty dollar bill under the edge of the plate as she watched, I slung my bag over my shoulder and nearly skipped my way out the door into the sunshine–a rarity here for our line of work.

I opened the passenger door, expecting to see Ro, maybe even Nash, behind the wheel, flashing me one of those heated looks that said they missed me–and my vagina. Mostly my vagina. I might even get a good fingering out of it while they sped one-handed down the highway giong faster than was logically sane.

I didn’t even look his way as I buckled in and started talking, rearranging my skirt to get comfortable. “Thanks for the ride. I was starting to think you’d forgotten me.”

“I could never forget you,” Angel’s voice purred in my ear as he placed a kiss along the edge where my lobe met my throat, teasing me with his hot breath. “You are on my mind every minute of every day, as it should be.”

“God, if you ever wanna quit being a contract killer, maybe you should open a poetry bar. You could get women pregnant with words like that.”

His chuckle sent a shiver down my spine as his hand slipped around the back of my neck. “No woman should ever carry a child on my behalf. There are enough Blackwoods running around already.” A pause, and then—

“But I guess it’s a good thing my seed is reserved for only one woman these days, isn’t it, Harper?”

Fuck, that had me wetter than a goddamn monsoon.

“Keep whispering things like that in my ear, and I might just get naked and throw myself at you right here in this parking lot.”

The leather of the wheel cracked under his grip as he put the Torino in gear and pulled into traffic. “This car isn’t big enough to do the things I wanna do to you.”

Okay, if he was aiming to turn me into a slut for him, it was working. I was two seconds away from squirming on the seat, I was so turned on. He knew just what to say to make me wanna touch myself, and didn’t hesitate to do it to tease me, then refuse to let me take care of the situation. Angel preferred to finish what he started, and that meant going down on me an obscene number of times a day when the mood struck.

I’d been eaten out in so many different locations now, I was beginning to develop a kink for exhibitionism. His last particularly daring display of affection was in the back of the movie theater, a row of college frat boys in the row in front of us tossing popcorn back and forth at each other, blissfully unaware as Angel shoved his fingers in my mouth to keep me quiet while he shoved his tongue so far up my greedy cunt I could have sworn he had it extended.

I busied myself with staring out the window, responding to Nash’s thread of unhinged texts as we wove in and out of traffic.

Nash: How long does it take to eat a muffin and plot world domination, or whatever it is you and Lilly do these days?

Nash: I’m horny, I miss you, come home.

Nash: Harperrrrrrrrrrrr

Nash: I’m going to touch myself to the memory of you in the shower the other day with that toy shoved in your ass—

Me: Please don’t. That was embarrassing.

Rowan: Don’t you guys have a private chat you can bother?

Me: . . . 

Rowan: But it WAS hot, for the record.

Nash: So. Hot.

I flipped over to the private thread and began taunting him with conveniently cropped naked selfies I kept on hand to send Rowan when he was busy. It was just enough that you could tell I wasn’t wearing anything, but you didn’t know for sure where that hand was aiming or what I was doing with my fingers. It kept them wondering, and in Rowan’s case, it was a good way to drag him out of the office.

“You’re awfully quiet today, Harper. Talking to your side boyfriend?”

I chuckled, deciding to tease him some as payback for the earlier whispered words. “Oh, you know, just sending Nash some naked selfies.”

“I wish you’d send me naked selfies sometime.”

“I’m naked with you enough in real life. Maybe you should take a picture next time before you dive in.” I turned my head to the side to flash him a smie, and my breath caught in my throat. “Oh my god, what did you do to your hair, Angel?!?”

One long, slender hand reached up to pat the sides of the new cut–a popular short cut that had his hair looking like a tidier version of Nash’s. He’d let it go back to black at the roots awhile ago, but now he’d dyed it all back to his natural color, leaving not a trace of the man I’d gotten into bed with last night. My jaw was gaping, it had to be. I could feel it hanging open like a fly trap. But I had no words to describe the feelings racing through me as I took in the mutilation of his beautiful hair.

“Why?”

He shrugged, paying me no mind, as if it were completely natural for the vainest man in all of fucking Port Wylde to chop off the hair he’d been growing out since his teenage days on a whim. “Kai is coming to meet me this week. I wanted to put my best foot forward.”

I flipped open my phone and started furiously typing as he explained his flimsy reasonings behind it. I knew he was self-conscious and worried about meeting his twin, but I didn’t think he’d go this far to try and fit in with his long-lost brother.

Me: Nash, help. I’ve been kidnaped and I’m stuck in a car with some stranger.

Nash didn’t take more than a second or three to reply. 

Nash: OMG Harper I’ll call in reinforcements. Where are you? What direction is the car traveling? Are you hurt?

Me: I’m not hurt, but this dude scares me. I don’t like it.

Nash knew better than all that. I was a bad bitch. I would be more likely to take care of myself and then regale them all with my story of ass kicking when I got home. But I guess old habits died hard, and Nash was off like a white night in a fantasy film, determined to save his little princess at all costs.

The phone in Angel’s pocket rang, and he turned his attention to it as he started merging into the off-ramp to our neighborhood. “Nash? What’s going on?” He squinted as Nash’s voice screamed through the receiver, unhinged and loud and very very rambling. “Slow down, asshole–wait, she what?” His eyes flicked to me, narrowing dangerously. “What do you mean she’s been kidnapped? Harper is sitting right next to me in the Torino.”

“Help me, Nash! I don’t know this man!”

Angel just stared at me blankly, a hint of disappointment and not a trace of amusement in his eyes. “She’s fine. I got my hair cut today, and she’s freaking out over it.” His eyes returned to the road and switched lanes, ignoring my shouted protests of  I don’t know this man! and Stranger Danger! as he turned onto the straight stretch that would take us home to the Guild. “If you don’t believe me, I’ll be back soon. Just wait.”

He hung up the phone and gripped the wheel in both hands, gritting his teeth so hard I could hear them squeak like chalk on a chalkboard at the wrong angle. He didn’t say another word until we pulled into the underground parking lot of the Guild and slipped into our parking space, the Torino idle resembling a growling tiger facing down a challenger.

He unclipped his seatbelt, his movements mechanic and impersonal. “We’re going to have a little chat, Harper.” He moved to my belt, undoing it as he reached over and threw open my door unceremoniously. “Get out.”

He didn’t shut off the car as he slid out of the passenger seat, his eyes flashing with a heavy dose of something dangerous and naughty in them. I knew I’d be in trouble, but this was the game I liked to play with him. Angel preferred me to behave for him, but when I didn’t, he would find new and creative ways to punish me. Usually involving sex.

God, I hoped this one involved sex.

His hand shot out and gripped me by the throat, dragging me to him as my back arched and a little whimper slipped from my lips. “I can’t believe you made this into such a big joke.” He slid a hand through his hair, his very short hair, and sighed heavily as it fell right back into place. “You and your dramatics are going to be the death of me, woman.”

“Are you gonna punish me for it?” I whimpered, half-pleading, half-hoping he’d just bend me over the hood of the car and fuck me senseless right now.

But if he thought we were done with this conversation, he was mistaken. I loved his long hair. Loved it. Running my fingers through it, pulling it during sex, braiding it while we watched movies together, even working conditioner through it in the shower together. It was an integral part of who he was, his identity as a man–a beautiful one, but a man nonetheless. And now he’d gone and chopped it off to impress another man, one he’d never met. One he shouldn’t be worrying about this much.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he growled, his nose an inch from mine as he bent me backward over the Torino’s still-warm hood. “You want me to fuck you stupid for being such a brat. But if I give you what you want, it’s not a punishment anymore, is it? It’s a reward.” His lips curled up as the realization dawned on me. “And bad girls don’t get rewarded for misbehaving.”

He was going to leave me wet and needy and desperate right here in the damn parking lot.

Like hell.

As he turned to walk away from me, I hiked my skirt up and slid back on the Torino’s hood, spreading my legs far enough apart for him to see I wasn’t wearing any panties. “If you won’t take care of me, I’ll take care of myself.”

I knew there were no security cameras pointing in this direction. They would catch the back angle of the Torino but not the front, where I was conveniently splayed out for Angel like a feast. They could see me from behind, but not a single camera in here would catch me doing what I was about to do.

Angel didn’t know that, though. 

He spun around on his heel and stared at me like I had lost my mind. “Harper! There are cameras around!”

“I don’t give a fuck,” I purred, sliding a hand into the puffy layers of my skirt. “If you don’t come finish what you started, I’ll take care of business myself. I’m no stranger to having to pick up a man’s slack–”

And like that, he was on top of me, pinning my hands above my head as he growled and pressed that hard cock against my wet slit. The feel of those jeans against my sensitive clit had me arching into him like a feral cat in heat, but I didn’t care. The fact that someone would very much know what was about to happen, and possibly watch it from the security office, was hotter than it had a right to be. But I wanted the world to know I was his, I was theirs, and as a result, untouchable.

“Okay, you win, Harper,” he snarled against my throat, his teeth nipping at my neck, the exposed skin on my shoulder, like I was a feast and he was sampling. “Can’t have you going around spreading lies about how I left you needy. People will think I don’t do my job, and we both know that’s a lie, don’t we, Harper?”

My only response was another moan as one of his hands slipped between our bodies and found my wetness.

The wild grin that split his lips when he looked down at me consumed my very fucking soul. “You’re such a dirty girl, aren’t you, princess?”

“Mmm, yes,” I panted as his fingers slipped inside of me, the heel of his palm grinding into my clit while I moaned at the intrusion. “So dirty.”

His lips felt like sin on my skin as he worked his way over the dip between my breasts, his tongue darting out to collect a bead of sweat that trailed desperately down after him. “You want to show the world how willing you are to let me wreck you?”

His hand slipped from my pussy, and I whined in displeasure, struggling against his grip on my wrists, to no avail. Angel might not look it, but the man was muscled up under that lean, wiry frame, and he never missed an opportunity to demonstrate that fact.

Like now.

His hands gripped my waist, freeing me from my captivity, and he yanked me toward him, my ass hanging just off the edge of the Torino as he held me up. “You’d better hold on tight, gorgeous. I plan to take you on a trip to the stars, and there are no seatbelts on this ride.”

I knew better than to test him in the mood he was in. My hands fisted in his jacket, and my legs split around his waist as he reached down and flicked his belt loose, freeing his cock in record time. I was beginning to think we were the poster children of nymphomania, making up for all that lost time as fast as humanly possible.

“Fuck, Harper,” he swore as his cock slid home in my desperate cunt, filling me in one smooth thrust that almost lifted me off the damn car. “You’re so wet. So tight.” 

“For such an eloquent man,” I gasped, riding the high as he slid out and back in again, the rhythm slow and torturous, “you seem to lose the ability to recite poetry any time you’re inside of me.”

“I can give you pretty words if that’s what you want,” he whispered, hunching over me as he used his hips to slam in and out of me, slow enough that it only made me needier, fast enough to drive me crazy and so close to the edge that I wanted to scream. “Your eyes are like pools that contain the sky, and I want to drown in them.” The Adam’s apple of his throat worked as he swallowed, trying desperately to slow his pace, drag this out longer than necessary. I watched his eyes flick toward the fake camera over his shoulder, then zero in on the one behind me, that actually did work. “Your lips taste like sin, a poison that I know will kill me one day, but I’m powerless to stop myself from tasting them at every opportunity.” As if to drive his point home, he brought our lips together, only pulling back when I tried to slip my tongue between his. “Your soul is like a wildfire that consumes me any time I come too close, and yet, without you, my world is as cold and desolate as the surface of a glacier.”

“Fuck,” I whispered, his words doing more than any vibrator ever could to send me skyrocketing to an orgasm. “I’m gonna come if you keep talking like that.”

“Are you?” he teased, his eyes dancing with mirth as he bottomed out in me over and over, a hand sliding between us to tweak my clit. “Maybe I should tell you how much I’d like that. How immensely it would please me to have your tight little cunt clenching around me as you arch your back and moan my name so it echoes around the damn garage–”

Like he’d summoned the very actions into reality by speaking them aloud, I did just that, my body jerking as he slid one of those long, talented digits inside me alongside his cock, making the fit even tighter as I gasped and shook and nearly blacked out. He stiffened and groaned my name, falling over my shoulder as he spent himself inside me, his finger still grazing my g-spot with every jerk of his cock, keeping my orgasm rolling with little to no effort. 

When he finally pulled his hand and cock free, the sound of applause rang out behind him, and I blinked slowly, coming down off my high quite quickly to realize that we had an audience–again.

I instinctively slammed my legs closed to hide my shame, realizing I didn’t like the actual act of getting caught as much as I liked the thrill of the chance.

Only to find Nash staring over Angel’s shoulder as the man who’d just wrecked me tucked himself away and scowled at the intrusion. 

“Can we help you?” Angel growled at his older brother, his eyes narrowed almost to slits. “Why is it you seem to know when to pop in to kill a mood?”

Nash grinned down at me, his finger trailing up my calf as I whimpered, the embarrassment suddenly turning to arousal at the realization that another of my men was here with the intent to wreck me. “You’re predictable, brother; what can I say?” His fingers curled around my ankles as he tugged my still-trembling legs apart again, observing the evidence of mine and his brother’s discretions in full view. “Rowan’s gonna be mad if he finds out you were fucking on top of his car.”

“Rowan won’t care; it’s her.” Angel shrugged and shot me a look as if to ask if I wanted him to stay or take me with him. “I’m going upstairs. When you’re done here, princess, maybe you’d best come get a shower.”

As Nash stepped up to the plate, ready and eager to revive me for round two, I hissed a warning to the man who was walking away. 

“Don’t think this is over, Angel. We’re going back to the salon, and you’re getting extensions. I’ll be damned if you change yourself for anyone, you hear me?”

His smile was faint, but it was there, and I watched with satisfaction as he reached up and patted his short hair, a frown curling his lips down again. “You’ll get no argument from me. I’m already regretting the length change.”

And then Nash’s lips crashed down on mine, and the conversation was over–at least for now.