Swindled (Close Contact Book 1) (2 page)

The man’s face was the only thing in all of Manhattan worthy of being called art. His wide jaw looked like it could take a solid punch, while his lips could kiss any hurt away. And those azure blue eyes…

O
h god, he’s looking right at me.

Thinking she may have been mistaken, Harper didn’t move. She didn’t want to draw his attention. But the longer she watched, the more clear it became. His fingers worked the woman splayed on the counter, but he stared into her eyes. The woman’s hips rocked. His gaze did not.

An orange, spray-tanned hand coasted over his shoulder, and his gaze snapped away. “Grip the counter,” he demanded.

Harper covered her heart with her hand, trying to stop the frantic rhythm. She only succeeded in stimulating her nipples. In a flash, his blue eyes returned to her. The attention seared hot in her core. He flicked the woman’s clit and finger fucked her to the most intense orgasm Harper had ever experienced—and he hadn’t even touched her. She hadn’t even touched herself. Well, not much. Yet, her fingers bit into the clutch, her breath stalled, her body quaked. The lace of her bodice crushed under her grip. All the while, he watched her through the tiny slit. And she didn’t dare blink.

Weak-kneed and close to tears when the woman straightened her dress, Harper stumbled backward and gripped the metal bar she’d never before dared to touch in any bathroom stall. Her heart stormed inside her chest, which was minimal in comparison to what her brain did. Guilt and confusion assaulted her for a long minute, but stubborn pride lifted her chin. Manolos
clacked
across the short room. Air shifted, and the door met the frame with a
thud
. Though she couldn’t see him, she knew he remained.

The bastard.

Determination straightened her shoulders. She had done nothing wrong, though the wetness between her legs called her a liar.

Lusting wasn’t illegal
.

The water turned on at the sink. Harper exhaled and stepped out of the stall. Declan’s knowing gaze held her own as she walked to the nearest sink. She turned the faucet and lathered soap, nearly mimicking his movements.

“What kind of name is Magnus, anyway?” Harper asked.

The corner of his mouth quirked before thinning. He dried thick hands, tossed the cloth into a wicker hamper, and then snagged hers and did the same. His gaze considered her like she were an intricate puzzle. “The only thing my mother gave me before divorcing my father for a younger, hotter version with less baggage, taking her money with her, and leaving me and my siblings destitute.”

She hadn’t expected that, but tried not to show it. Probably wasn’t true anyway. Just something to sway her feminine emotions. “Am I supposed to feel sorry for you? Is that your excuse for using women like disposable rags?” She nodded toward the hamper.

“If you’d paid attention, and I think you did,” his pink lips spread wide at that, “you’d recall mutual using going on. Women and men have been using each other for centuries. It won’t stop anytime soon.”

“What does your wife think about that?”

“Ex-wife,” he corrected, smoothing his dark blond brow.

Of all things, her pulse skittered at the stroke of his finger across the coarse hair. He rubbed a thumb over his lower lip, taunting her. “I wanted a title. She wanted security.”

“Security?” Harper swallowed.

“In the bank account and bedroom.” He stepped forward, brushing the lace of her dress with his high-end suit’s buttons. His breath tickled her cheek as he leaned down. “Her extravagant lifestyle and first marriage left her in need. Do you know anything about need, Harper?”

“Detective Lang,” she snapped. Or at least, she tried. His virile scent and proximity screwed with her senses. She breathed deeply, fighting to ignore the brush of her nipples against his chest. “Why did you give me the diamond?”

“Have it tested. It’s not the piece from her family’s collection, which she sold five years ago, but one I purchased to replace them on our three-year anniversary. It’s a quarter carat larger.”

Harper collected every speck of self-control she possessed, planted two hands on his chest, and shoved. The big man only moved an inch, but it was enough that she squeezed between him and the wall and hurried toward the door.

“Aren’t you going to cuff me?”

She didn’t have anything to hold him, but still she stopped with one hand on the door.

“No, you’re not,” he said, drawing nearer. “You don’t want anyone to know I made you come without a single touch.” Looming over her shoulder, the heat of his large body shot a wave of gooseflesh across hers. “I’ve never seen such an honest reaction in my life, and that’s a treasure too exquisite to share.”

* * *

D
amn
! He was good
.
No wonder women
tossed themselves at him, along with anything else he wanted. Harper stomped her rage on each of the seventy-two stairs it took to reach her apartment door. She’d done many difficult things on the force, but none had come close to walking away from Magnus Declan. Pheromones wafted off the man’s skin in potent waves as detrimental as forest fires. But the unexpected sincerity, combined with his uninhibited manner, proved the most dangerous aspect, aside from his pure physicality.

A single lamplight welcomed Harper home. She locked the door and dropped her clutch, thigh holster, and tiny Colt onto the end table. Flipping off the torturous heels, she trudged past the cozy seating area and kitchenette. Fluffy white cotton pillowed her reverse-swan-dive onto the bed. A shower was in order. The absence of his sexy musk would make the night easier, but she wasn’t ready to let go just yet. Feet dangling over the edge, she tossed an arm over her eyes, and weathered the discord between her body and mind.

A
tap
sounded at the window.

On any other night, Harper would have lurched for her gun. Tonight, only one person was crazy enough to risk life and limb on her rusty fire escape. The only question was why?

She eased her arm from her face, and her head toward the window. Declan’s frame clogged her twinkling city view. He’d removed his tie and coat. Sinewy forearms shone tan beneath rolled cuffs. In two fingers, he held a six-pack mix of Birra Moretti and Asahi Kuronama. Instead of a smile or smolder, his handsome face was set in neutral.

Her heart skittered. So she flung herself off the bed and stomped to the window. The rickety thing opened smoothly on an easy pull, because she was the only one crazy enough to dangle her feet through the railing and watch the city each night before bed.

Harper braced her hand on the frame, barring his entrance. “I’m not worth wining and dining or beering and fucking. As you can see.” She flipped a hand toward the coffee table that doubled as a dining table. “There’s no big payout.”

When they hit the ledge, the beer bottles clinked together. Declan’s hands wrapped her waist, and he plucked her off her feet.

She clutched his biceps for balance and ducked as he hoisted her through the window.

“Payouts come in many forms, Harper.” His hard chest pinned her to the brick. One hand skated to her ass for support while the other heated a path to her neck. Her legs dangled in thin air. “From what I’ve seen, this is my most justifiable risk-reward to date.”

The words rumbled beneath his stout muscles, vibrating against her breast. A hint of champagne wafted off his breath as his lips drew near.

“How about you?”

Her conscience screamed, “No!” But her nipples beaded, and her clit pulsed against the tip of his erection. Harper bit her lip to keep from screaming, “Yes!” Her hands fisted in the starch of his shirt, and her body strained in defiance of her control.

“Why me?” Harper’s head shook. “No, I know why. You’re just trying to screw my case.”

“You don’t have a case. No one does. What I do is legend and morally reprehensible, but not illegal in most states or provinces.” The middle of his brow pinched, and his tone dropped. “I’m trying to screw you, not your case.”

He pressed her so hard with his body it forced the air from her lungs. “Yes,” she whispered with the last of her breath.

His hands seized the split of her dress and yanked. The delicate material
shrieked.
Sultry night air blew across her bare cheeks. He levered back, but his expression elicited a gasp. Animalistic lust tensed his features. With practiced hands he hiked her onto his hips and guided her legs around his torso.

Harper moaned at the shock of full contact with his rigid girth.

“Kiss me, Harper. Show me you want this as much as I do. I’m desperate for you.”

The silk of his hair tickled her fingers as she wound them full of his locks. She leaned to his mouth, inch by excruciating inch, knowing as soon as she made contact, there would be no turning back. He held himself taut, breathing as deeply as she. Their lips touched, mouths open in anticipation. Harper dragged her hands to his face, hiding the sweetness of their kiss from the world, and maybe herself.

Magnus’s arms coiled around her back, holding her as firmly as the wall had. His hands splayed hot on her shoulders. She nestled her mouth, moving it this way and that, against his, relishing the feel. Firm and supple at the same time. Tender and harsh. Her tongue slipped inside, tasting.

One hand abandoned her while the other coasted to her bottom. She heard the swoosh of leather, the rasp of a zipper. A foil wrapper came next. Yet, his gaze remained absorbed on her. He sat on the narrow ledge, supporting them with his powerful legs. Without a word, he dragged her panties to the side, and positioned the thick head of his cock at the cleft of her slick channel.

When he eased her deliberately onto his shaft, Harper broke the kiss. She moaned as he filled her to the boundary of pleasure and pain.

His hands left her bottom and dove into her hair, framing her face. He nibbled her lower lip and breathed her deep. “God, Harper, touch me.”

The pleading in his voice had her holding his face tighter and pulling him closer, though there was no part of her not touching him. Their mouths mated until her lips stung, and her body craved everything he had to offer. Slowly she leaned back, holding his gaze as her hands dropped to his buttons. Each loosened fastener revealed more slabs of muscle under snug skin that she explored with the sight of her fingers.

She tugged the shirt off his shoulders and clamped onto the bulging cords. One steady rock of her hips built onto another. Magnus held her face close, stripping her bare with his gaze—to her very soul—while she loved him with her body. There were no tricks of a seasoned pro seducing a woman. She’d seen them, knew he had them. But on the balcony in sight of a tiny chunk of Manhattan, only the two of them existed.

Harper arched. The position rubbed her breasts and clit against his hard body. An orgasm shook her from the inside out. She came with short pants and quiet mews. When the climax rose too high, her lids clamped shut and her body bowed.

Magnus attacked her neck with fierce kisses and scrapes of his teeth. He squeezed the globes of her ass in his hands, guiding her up and down his engorged penis. On the fourth stroke, his nails skewered her skin.

Harper’s gaze found his as he pulsed his release deep inside. His jaw strained and every muscle in his body coiled, but he didn’t look away. Those vibrant blue eyes bore into her dark ones, just as they had in the bathroom.

He snugged a hand over hers, atop his strumming heart, and filled his lungs. Neither of them moved or said a word. Only held the moment as furiously as they could. When their breaths evened, he leaned forward and nibbled her collarbone while he shredded the rest of the most expensive garment she owned.

A giggle slipped from her lips as he tossed the spent material through the window. The laughter died the moment he lifted her heavy breasts to his mouth, basking each in eager praise.

His agile fingers dipped lower, slipping and swirling around her sensitive folds. “Kiss me and come for me, but don’t let me go.”

Hips rolling, she rode his still-rigid girth and trained hand. He stroked her little nub in the pinch of his thumb and forefinger. His other hand toyed with her distended nipple, while his lips roamed her chest.

A heat wave more fearsome than any a city dweller had ever seen engulfed her. Flames danced behind her lids. Harper held tight to the dangerous spark, hugging him with every bit of strength her shaky body possessed. The strong, predatory swindler buried his face in her tresses, clasping her just as intensely.