Her.
Harper.
The caterer with the sky-high heels and a body a man would drop to his knees to worship. Or worship from his knees, with her dress up about her waist as he tugged down some lacy panties and learned her taste.
Made her come.
I was good at reading people at a quick glance. Not only was she hot as fuck, but she was wound up fucking tight. She hid it well, obviously stressed from the work, but had it under control. I’d tasted the food. Good stuff. The guests seemed to like it, too, and appeared to be having a good time. No one knew of any issues she was having. That was the sign of a good caterer. Hell, any kind of business owner in the service industry. I’d humped enough dirty dishes as a busboy in high school to know the deal.
But when Dane had started chatting her up, she’d kept that wall up. Pretended with us. But I knew my friend, and he planned to break that wall down, and he’d all but forced me to find the damned safe exit while he did so. It was the first time ever I didn’t give a fuck about an escape plan.
But he’d thawed her out some by the time I returned. Even said some shit that would have had some women tossing a drink in his face, or worse, kneeing him in the balls.
Not Harper. She was into it. Into us. So I’d joined in on the fun. While it lasted. No sooner had Mrs. O'Sullivan stuck her head through the door did Harper return to all business. Calling Dane ‘Sir’ and speaking like a greeter at church.
Yeah, she needed to get laid, get a few orgasms behind her to soften her up a bit. This might be her job, but she’d be off the clock soon enough.
As we returned to the mansion’s great room to mingle and chat with rich fuckers with Napoleon complexes, it was the first time I was content to do so. We’d wait for Harper to finish her work. And when she was done, she’d be ours.
She wanted it. We just had to close the deal.
Two boring as fuck hours later, I was positive my tie was slowly strangling me. I had no idea how Dane did it, wearing a monkey suit every day. Me? I was more comfortable in a pair of board shorts and bare feet, hands taped and mouth guard in. My office was the ring, or it had been until Dane needed security.
And that was why I circled the lower level of the house once more as Dane chatted with the mother of the groom and a few other matronly women whose names I couldn’t remember. Everyone was looser from the free-flowing wine an
d liquor. The only danger he was in from that group was an overeager matchmaker. I’d seen Harper twice since we’d left her in the kitchen, one time circulating a tray of mini quiches—Dane told me what they were—and the second time collecting empty glasses.
Maybe she felt me undressing her with my gaze, but she’d glanced across the room and stared. Not long enough for anyone else to notice, but I had. She offered a small smile before turning away, her cheeks turning a pretty pink. A pink I guessed was the same color as her nipples. While she may have been dismissing me, at least for show, it only gave me a stunning view of her pert ass and killer legs. What was it about that woman in heels? I just wanted to walk her toward the nearest horizontal surface, bend her over it and fuck her in those ruthless stilts.
We’d take her, but not here. What I planned on doing with her required at a minimum privacy and potentially my tie, some lube and a butt plug. I groaned. It was downright impossible to be a good bodyguard with a fucking hard-on. Fortunately, I’d been able to stand by the bar, cock hidden so as not to shock any of the old biddies or piss off their mob husbands. When Dane wanted to go and Harper finished, we’d be escorting her out that safe exit off the kitchen. Not into her catering van, but into Dane’s SUV.
My balls ached to fuck, the perfect reminder that it was time to leave. I swept the study, the front hallway, the formal dining room and entered the kitchen. The now-familiar servers were there, stowing clean glasses into plastic crates.
No Harper. I went down the hallway to the back door, peeked outside. I glimpsed the catering van lit by the exterior lights, but our girl wasn’t out there. Back in the kitchen, I pinned down one of the servers. “Where’s your boss?” I asked.
She was in her twenties, cute, clean cut. Pretty, but I was only interested in Harper. This girl was probably in college studying engineering or English literature and needed some extra cash. She fit in well with this crowd with her sleek and simple ponytail and pearl earrings, at least with the ones not wearing shoulder holsters and ankle sheaths.
She looked me over, her sandy eyebrows going up. Yeah, I was a thug, but I beat people up in the ring. With rules. I never hurt a woman, but I wanted answers. Now.
“Garage. Putting leftovers in the freezer for the client.”
I offered a slight head nod of thanks, spun on my heel. I made it to the hallway again when the door to the garage whipped open and Harper came barreling through, not looking where she was going. Stumbling, she slammed into me, and I gripped her upper arms to steady her.
She stifled a scream and tugged at my hold. She was freaked. Seriously freaked.
“Harper. It’s me. Leo.” I gave her a little shake, and she looked up at me. Her face was as white as a ghost and her eyes...fuck, she was petrified. Looking over her shoulder, I didn’t see anyone following her. Had someone come onto her? Groped her? Or worse?
“What’s the matter?”
She was practically hyperventilating. “Body. There,” she whispered, as if she couldn’t get the words to come out louder.
“What?” I asked, now looking behind me as well. There was a threat here, and I didn’t know what it was. My adrenaline kicked in, honed my attention.
I turned her, pressed her against the wall. Felt her tremble. Breathed in her scent. Coconuts? Something tropical. “Stay here. All right?”
She nodded and I stepped back, made sure she could stand on her own.
Confident she wasn’t going to fall to the floor, I went to the garage door, peeked in. All was quiet. The overhead lights were on and I could see four stalls, fancy cars in three of the spaces. Along the back wall were shelves for storage, an older model fridge and a freezer chest.