Page 7 of The Big Scoop

“Good school,” he said. I started to reply, but in an instant, he had pulled up a chair and was sitting beside me.

I froze. Everything stopped but my heart, which had just kicked into overdrive.

I must have looked like a deer in headlights, but Harrison just stared at me like he was waiting for me to do something.

“Do you know how long it’s been?” he asked.

His question was like a gut punch. I was already off balance, but his question sent me spinning.

How long what’s been?!

“How—how long?” I stammered. “Since…you’ve eaten?”

“Since a girl has made me feel the way you are making me feel right now.”

Holy shit.

His words rocked me. I was starting to sweat and it wasn’t from the sun either. Harrison pulled his chair closer; he was right on top of me. A shiver ran through me. I was feeling things I’d never felt before.

I was wet—like, so wet I had to cro

ss my legs to keep from dripping down my thighs.

What the hell is happening to me?

“No, I—what do you mean—?”

The words were barely out of my mouth before his lips pressed against mine.

My eyes closed, completely out of reflex, and my back arched as my body pushed against his automatically. His strong chest touched mine and I melted. My whole body was tingling with something akin to anticipation, and even though I knew that everything that was happening was wrong, and that Harrison Night was a playboy who only wanted me for one thing, I didn’t want him to stop; I wanted him to keep going.

4

Harrison

My muscles were tight and my body was screaming for her. My cock was ready to tear the fabric of my pants to shreds as it burst free. I’d been hard since the ride up the driveway and was desperate to be inside her.

I hadn’t felt this kind of desire in…well, I couldn’t even remember the last time. All I knew at that moment, as I kissed Gwen’s luscious lips, was that I was in fucking heaven.

Her tongue brushed against mine as she let her mouth open. My cock pulsed between my thighs and I could feel a wet spot in my underwear from all the pre-cum that had been leaking out of me since we got out of the Lamborghini.

Remembering what it was like to hold her, I wrapped my arm around her tiny waist and pulled her closer. Her breasts were perfect, bigger than I expected, and I could feel her hard nipples against my chest.

She’s excited.

I wanted to tear her clothes off her right then and there—everything but the heels—and fuck her silly on the patio table. Then I wanted to take her inside and break in every single room in the house and spend the next week doing nothing but lying around, fucking, and eating gourmet food made for us by the chef.

I wanted to spoil her. I wanted to bury my face between her legs and lick her until she came over and over and over again.

I wanted to make her scream my name in ecstasy, slide deep inside her, and shoot my load. I wanted to claim her.

Gwen was what I wanted, and she couldn’t be bought with money. I had to make her mine, and I wasn’t going to stop until she was.

My hands slid beneath her and lifted her from the chair and pulled her on top of me. Her legs were crossed, but she spread them as I sat her down on my lap, causing her skirt to rise up and slip over her hips, exposing her soft, creamy thighs to me.

I slid a hand between her legs and touched her gently, moving up to what lay between her legs. A smile crossed my lips as I felt the wetness there.

She’s excited too, I thought. But she’s been trying to hide it.

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