“Talk?” I saw her swallow.
“Talk. While you’re over my knee and my hand is turning that gorgeous ass fucking bright red.”
Sixteen
DANE
I aged ten years when I saw Harper in the bar. It was then I realized I had it bad for her. Sure, I was protective of all women, but it seemed I was prepared to die for this one. And I’d been fine with that, walking into the literal lion’s den. While we’d had the info from Liam to keep the three of us safe from O’Sullivan, Harper had saved herself. Going to his wife had been smart. Betsy had more dirt on the old man than anyone else. And what she said goes. She wasn’t a simpering, mild, meek woman.
No, I’d met Mrs. O’Sullivan at the engagement party and she had a spine of steel and a resolve even her husband couldn’t bend. If she wanted Harper alive, then Harper stayed alive. Period.
I could only imagine O’Sullivan with some of his men cooking for a rehearsal dinner because he’d killed off the caterer and had to fill in.
Yeah, that was probably what he’d been thinking while his wife talked his ear off.
And now? Now that we were done with O’Sullivan—yet Harper would have to do two more events for the murderer—we were alive. Free.
In twenty-four hours, we’d gone from not knowing Harper to saving her, and to her saving us right back. This wasn’t a fling. It wasn’t steamy sex. It wasn’t just a good time I shared with my best friend.
No fucking way.
This was Harper and us.
Us.
By the time we got to the penthouse, Leo had chewed out his men and Harper had chewed at her bottom lip, obviously worried about the spanking she was going to get.
Yeah, Leo had said what was going to happen, but I agreed with him completely. This woman needed to know we were in this for the long haul, that her safety was the most important thing.
“My bedroom, sugar,” Leo ordered as he dropped his gun on the table by the door and flicked the dead bolt. “Take off all those clothes and wait for us.”
She narrowed her eyes and shook her head.
“I’m going home. I don’t need this from you.”
I took her arm as she walked by, spun her around to face me. “Yes, you do. You need to know you’re safe. That we’re here for you no matter what. That we’ll spank your ass if you don’t take care of yourself.”
“I can take care of myself,” she countered. “I’ve been doing it for years.”
“Sugar. Think of it this way. We saw you walk into a bar filled with guys with guns. We need to spank you so that we know you’re alive. Whole. Ours. We need to let out some of this fear of you getting hurt on that ass of yours.”
Her mouth fell open at Leo’s admission.
She eyed me, then gazed at Leo, saw the seriousness in his green eyes, but the truth of his words. He didn’t outright say it, but he cared about her.
“I need to know you’re okay.”
Harper launched herself at Leo and he staggered back a step as her arms went around his neck and she kissed him. His hands reached for her butt and held her up as her legs went around his waist. She clung to him like a fucking monkey and it was hot as fuck to see.
This wasn’t calculated or planned. Her kiss was hot and wild, full of emotion, the same kind Leo just expressed.
We were alive. We’d put our necks on the line for her just as she’d done for us.
And now all that emotion, that energy, had to come out.
If she wanted to fuck it out of her system, then so be it.
Leo walked her down the hall as he didn’t stop kissing her. He pushed her shirt up and Harper took over, lifting it over her head. Her lips returned to his immediately.