"I didn't ask you to do that," I murmur, turning my head to look out the window, the curtains still open from when I arrived.

He presses his fingers against my cheek, forcing me to look back into his eyes. "You never need to ask me to protect you, Harlow. I want to; I have to. What I'm trying to tell you is that you're not a fling; you're not a quick lay." His eyes bore into me as he waits for his words to sink in. "I want to be the only man you ever touch. I want to be the only man you want to touch. You mean something to me, Harlow. And it's more than this, even though this is spectacular." He winks and my heart melts.

This is a mix of my Porter and the sexy Porter, the man I know and the man he is to everyone else. This mix is purely for me, because he wants me to see every part of him.

Then I grow bold, wrapping my fist around his cock and slowly gliding my hand up and down the shaft, reveling in the shudder that wracks his body, forcing him to throw an arm out to the wall and brace himself. "Do I get to be the only woman who touches you? Who touches this?" I move my mouth toward him and flick my tongue over the head of his cock before wrapping my lips around it.

"Fuck yes," he grinds out and with his most prized possession in my mouth, I know he's telling the truth.

An hour and a joint shower later, we're sitting on the living room couch looking out toward downtown Chicago, which is now blanketed in snow. Porter's phone rings and I watch as he fishes it out of his pocket and moves it to his ear.

"Porter Daniels . . . Yes . . . Right . . . I expected you to say that . . . No, it should be okay for a few days. When do you anticipate it being lifted? . . . Ah, okay. Yes, please keep me updated. We'll be ready to go within a few hours once we get the all clear . . . Thanks for letting me know. Bye."

Turning my head, I wait to hear the news that I've been dreading.

"We're grounded for at least two days, sweetheart. The airport is frozen solid, and there is no chance of getting out of here until Christmas night at the earliest."

"Dammit. I was going to do my shopping today. Way to go, me! Always leaving it until the last minute."

He turns me in his arms and I swing my legs around until I'm straddling him. "We can still go shopping. Just because the airport is closed doesn't mean the shops will be. It's Christmas Eve; every man and his dog will be out doing their last-minute shopping. Who's to say we can't join them?"

I grin at him and smack my lips against his, hard and fast. "You kinda rock, you know that, right?"

"I rocked your world last night, and this morning, so I guess you might be right," he says with a smirk, and I whack him on the arm while laughing at him. I jump up off his lap and run to the bedroom. "What are you waiting for, Captain? Time is a wasting. We have money to spend and shopping to do."

I may be stuck away from home for the holidays, but I'm starting to think that Christmas in Chicago with Porter Daniels might not be so bad.

Chapter 7.

Harlow If I were ever to have an equal in the shopping stakes, I think Porter might be it. For hours we went from shop to shop, battling the other last-minute shoppers as we laughed and kissed our way around Chicago's Magnificent Mile.

We only stopped for lunch before returning back to the ongoing assault of our credit cards-well, Porter's more than mine. He insisted on paying for everything, despite being told more than once that my father would pay. That actually earned me a growl and a 'like fuck he will' under his breath.

All hell broke loose when I went to actually call my father so he could tell Porter himself. My phone was grabbed out of my hand and shoved into Porter's pant pocket before I could even protest.

In the middle of Nordstrom, he'd spun me around with his hands around my waist before pulling me hard up against him and moving his finger down to my ass and inside my jean pockets, holding me as his willing captive before proceeding to make my heart swell and my panties damp in one perfectly worded speech.

"Har, I'm your dad's chief pilot. The man he trusts with his most expensive asset. The man who is worthy of deserving the most important person in his life needs to have the balls to tell him in person, not at a time when we're two thousand miles away. Please give us these few days to solidify what is building between us before we let your father know. Can you do that, sweetheart?" His eyes had bored into mine, a look of total sincerity on his beautiful face that made it impossible to deny him his request. To be honest, it wasn't a hard call to make.

"Can you at least let me pay for something? I'm not a woman who likes being taken care of like this, I'm not used to it. Shopping is my vice, I should be the one to pay for it, just like I have since I was old enough to earn my own way."

Then he'd given me his soft Porter look. The slight tilt of his head, his eyes full of respect with a side of surprise and something else I have never been able to put my finger on. "You are a remarkable woman, Harlow Wilson, and I love the fact that you are willing to pay your way. What I'm saying is that you won't be paying your way today, or for this whole trip, and if you wish to pay me back in any way, there are a myriad of ways you're welcome to do that once we're back at the hotel, preferably naked or close to it." A smart-ass grin had grown on his lips as I saw his mind tick over, considering that very prospect.

"Oh, I bet you'd like that," I'd retorted.

"I'll more than like it." He'd leaned down and nipped my ear. "But I bet you'll like it more. In fact, I know you will. Especially if I do it right."

"I don't think you could ever do it wrong," I'd murmured with a soft groan. The proximity of his body to mine combined with the promise of future naked gratitude time with him that night was getting too much for me.

Standing back, he'd planted a hard and fast kiss on my lips and squeezed my ass with both hands before withdrawing his hands, tangling his fingers in mine and walking on, pulling me with him and acting as if he hadn't just turned me the fuck on in the middle of a Chicago department store.

The rest of the afternoon was without incident. I even managed to miraculously sneak in a secret purchase for Porter to open on Christmas Day and a special purchase for him to unwrap on Christmas Eve.

We tried to catch up with Grayson but he was having a quiet day, staying in the hotel and monitoring the weather for any changes. Porter actually told me that the light snowfall we had gotten so far was nothing in comparison to what was on its way, which both saddened and excited me. Porter's phone rang a few times and I caught him checking for text messages quite a lot, but I figured he was also checking the weather and maybe trying to reorganize his own Christmas plans. How bad is it that I hadn't even thought about that?

A late night visit ending in mind-blowing, expectation-shattering sex does that to a girl.

How is it that my mood toward spending the holidays stuck away from home can be so bittersweet? I miss Dad and am worried about him spending Christmas by himself, but I also have butterflies when I think of spending Christmas with Porter. I have visions of a fireplace, a Christmas tree lit up with colorful fairy lights and making love in the muted light emitted by both. I know it can't happen though, because we're spending Christmas in a freaking hotel, so that pretty much cancels out any of those plans.

It's nice to think about, though.

We arrive back at the hotel around four p.m., but when I head toward the elevators to take the bags upstairs, Porter stops me and calls a porter over to relieve us of our spending spree. Then he leads me toward the hotel bar, pausing just inside the doors before searching the room.

"Daniel Fucking Winters," Porter calls out as we near a table where a gorgeous couple are seated. The man, obviously Daniel, stands and grins at us before stepping toward Porter and giving him a man hug.

"You haven't aged a day, you lucky bastard."

"Being married to a woman like my wife keeps me young. What can I say?" Daniel replies with a smirk, morphing into a huge smile when I hear his wife retort, "Smartass" behind him.

She wraps an arm around his waist and pushes herself into his side, holding an outstretched arm toward me. "I'm Mac, the so-called wife to this guy."

I can't hold back a giggle as I take in the two of them. They're down to earth, just the kind of people I've always gotten along well with. Porter and Daniel start talking before Mac grabs my attention.

"Are you drinking? Because I'm in need of a Sex on the Beach, and I want to grill you on how you scored yourself this hunk of a man," Mac says matter-of-factly before hooking her arm in mine and dragging me toward the bar, all before I can even utter the word yes.

A short while later, I return to the table where there are now two more chairs. I was persuaded to take a tequila shot at the bar with Mac before we ordered Sex on the Beach cocktails and rejoined our men.

Not that Porter is necessarily my man as such; it's been less than twenty-four hours, for God's sake. But it wasn't me who gave the whole 'want to be the man worthy to look after you' speech, was it?

Emboldened by a lack of sleep mixed with a few hearty doses of tequila, I decide to get the dish on Porter's past. "So Daniel, how did you meet Porter? I'm sure you have some sordid stories from his past you want to share," I ask with a sly smile, my eyes darting to Porter's quickly to notice the sinful gaze he's directing my way, right about the same time I feel his hand land gently on my knee and slide up my inner thigh. Yeah, what did I ask again?

"This guy," Daniel says, tilting his head toward Porter, "thought he could date my sister."

"Hey, now. Hillary is a nice girl, with a killer-"

"For the love of all that's holy, man. Please, stop right there. She's still my sister. My now happily married sister."

Porter tips his beer bottle up to his mouth, his smile evident as he takes a swig and lowers it back down to the table. "It came about that I got along with her brother better than her. We broke up, but Daniel and I stayed in touch." He shrugs but pins me with his eyes. Eyes that are full of mischief, all knowing. I definitely think he's up to something, I just don't know what. Yet.

"Daniel's told me about your antics," Mac pipes up. "He told me about the flight you took him on to Miami. Two days, two nights, lots of parties and lots of girls. Sounds to me like you two are trouble when you get together."

"Back in the day, maybe. Now, not so much." Daniel hooks an arm around Mac's shoulders, pulling her into him and kissing her smack bang on the lips. "You're more than enough trouble for me," he muses against her lips as they pull apart.

My cheeks heat and I look down at my lap, feeling like a naughty voyeur. Porter leans over and whispers in my ear "You're blushing. I know what else makes your cheeks go red. And soon I'm going to have you hot all over. Laid out in front of me. I'm going to spend hours exploring your body. Every curve, every crease, every single inch of you will be touched by me."

Touchdown. I'm done. Suddenly I want to run up to my room, strip off all my clothes and give myself over to this man. No more holding back. I'm all in with Porter Daniels. Work, my dad, whatever else that could ever stand between us better watch out, because I'm ready to fight to the death to be with him.

"You're a tease," I say, turning my head toward him and finding myself nose to nose with the most irresistible man I've ever had the pleasure of knowing.

"I know. The thing is, I never say anything I don't mean. And when I say I want you, all of you, I mean that. I. Want. You."

"What are you two whispering about over there?" Daniel asks with one brow raised.

"Just making plans for later," Porter retorts, giving me a sly wink before turning back toward his friends.

"How's the terrible twosome?"

"Not so terrible. A little bit crazy, like their mother, a little bit superhero, like their dad."

"Terrible twosome?" I ask, trying to keep up with the conversation. It's lucky that I'm used to holding conversations with a lot of different people. It's part of my job, and something I've always been good at.

"We have twins, a boy and a girl. They've just turned two," Mac replies, her proud smile beaming.

"Wow. And you're still sane and standing?"

"Just, but I tend to like the superhero side of them more than the crazy tendencies they inherited from me."

"Keeps life interesting."

"That it does."

The conversation falls into a comfortable silence.

I look over to see Daniel studying Porter, his gaze switching between the two of us. "And you two. How long have you been going out?"

"We're not-" I say, just as Porter replies, "Yesterday." I look down, feeling awkward. Here we are talking to a happily married couple about their twin toddlers and Porter and I can't even agree whether we're seeing each other or not. Talk about awkward.

I sneak a look at Daniel and Mac, and they're both grinning at the two of us.

"Sounds familiar, Superman," Mac muses.

"Indeed it does. Let's hope you two have the same outcome as we did." Daniel holds his beer up for a toast. We all follow his lead and clink our glasses.

"To old friends and future possibilities," he bids. We repeat his toast, but I can't help but notice the change in Porter's mood. The bright energy that always follows him seems dimmer for the rest of our time in the bar.

An hour later we're saying our goodbyes, and Porter and I are walking hand in hand toward the lobby As the elevator doors close, he turns to face me. I'm suddenly floored by the dark carnal look in his eyes, a look I haven't ever seen on him but by God, I want to see it for the rest of my life.

"Now for a night you're never going to forget."

Chapter 8.

Harlow "Close your eyes"

"Why? You know I'm a sure thing, right?"

He groans, and I can't help but laugh as I do what I'm asked and close my eyes.

"Didn't know you were into the kinky stuff, Porter."

"I wasn't, but noticing how breathless you sound at the mere thought of it, I think I'll file it away for future reference."

"Dammit. Now I can't help but think about it."

Heat from his body warms my back. "Hold that thought." His arm brushes my left side as he reaches past me and opens the door leading to the hotel bedroom. A door I don't remember closing this morning.

"What are we doing, then? Because I was looking forward to giving you my heartfelt thanks for taking me shopping and getting me a little bit tipsy. There's something you might not know about me . . ."

"What's that, my sweet Harlow?" His breath fans over my neck right before warm lips start placing feather-light kisses from my neck down to my collarbone.

"I get horny when I've been drinking."

"I know that already, sweetheart."

"How do you . . ."

He replies in between more firmer, longer lasting kisses that he covers my shoulder and back with. Thank the Lord for scoop-neck tops, that's all I can say. "Two months ago . . . at Beverly's leaving party . . . you were drinking Champagne . . . you kept sneaking looks at my ass . . . and licking your lips . . . and it took everything in me . . . to stop myself . . . from getting inside . . . you." He nips the soft skin of my neck with his teeth then sucks firmly, surely leaving a mark, but I don't stop him because it feels so damn good.

I lift my arms up and run my fingers through his hair as he goes back to kissing my shoulder, my back, my neck, moving down my jaw toward my mouth. I turn my head toward his voice feeling his breath on my face. "You should've done something. I went home and made myself come thinking about you bending me over my desk."

"Fuck," he spits out before I pull his mouth toward mine, our tongues resuming their well-matched dance from last night and this morning's dalliances.

He pulls away and places his hands on my shoulders, his body still hard up against mine, his erection pressing insistently into my lower back. "Now for your surprise."

Porter pushes me forward gently and although I'm extremely tempted, I resist the urge to sneak a peek.

"Can I open them yet?"

"Just a few more steps, sweetheart." Kissing my bare shoulder, his lips are whisper-soft against my skin, sending a shiver through my entire body just from that one touch.

Increasing the pressure on my shoulders, I stop moving forward and wait for his next instruction. My heightened senses have me super aware of every sound, every touch of his hand and the smell of everything distinctly Porter.

"You can open them, Har." He wraps his arms around my waist and rests his chin on my shoulder.

My eyes snap open and I gasp at the sight in front of me. The lights are dim, the fire has been lit and my hotel bedroom has been transformed into a Christmas scene straight out of a Hallmark movie.

There is a real, yes real evergreen smells-like-Christmas-threw-up-in-the-room-in-the-best-possible-way tree with tinsel and baubles and twinkling fairy lights. There are even two red stockings hanging from the mantelpiece, and perfectly wrapped presents with shiny gold bows underneath the tree.