Marie Harte - Raising the Bar

She laughed. “Are you saying I’m bossy?”

“Hell yeah.” He smiled, satisfaction clear in his sky-blue eyes. “But I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

Harper sat in his truck, wondering if the sexy doctor would stand him up. He didn’t think he’d ever forget that look Dylan had first shot him. That same speculative glance Harper had once wasted on Derrick, before he’d understood the man to be unavailable. Unfortunate, because everything about Derrick appealed to Harper.

The guy liked sports, had a great sense of humor and the greenest eyes that Harper had ever seen. Harper didn’t go for muscle-bound jocks, though he liked manly men. Derrick had looks, personality and a good head on his shoulders. The guy was a gifted architect.

And he liked women.

Harper did too, on occasion. But he had a feeling Derrick would never swing his way. Dylan, on the other hand… He’d known Derrick had two brothers. Harper had met Gage a while ago. Gage and Derrick owned WCC—Warren Construction Company. They’d all worked on a few of the same projects before coming together to design the new city buildings under Natalie’s supervision. But Dylan had remained a stranger, a name on paper. The other brother who wore Derrick’s face. Who would have guessed the Warren twins could look so alike but be so different?

Dylan had a calm confidence about him that attracted attention. Handsome and refined, he made Harper want to tie him up, to plumb his depths and see what really made a man that fine tick.

To see Dylan regarding him with mutual attraction had floored him. So hell yeah he’d blackmailed the guy into dinner.

A glance at the large plantation house on the outskirts of town made him smile. Harper couldn’t wait to introduce Dylan to the club, a fine dining experience that promised so much more than good food and drink.

A familiar green SUV pulled up alongside him, and then the real Dylan Warren exited the truck and shut the door. Dylan wore tan pants, a white button-down shirt and a navy blue sports coat. For this Dr. Warren, Harper would gladly lie down on a couch and confess his deepest secrets. Truth be told, he didn’t have a lot of drama. No skeletons, and he’d happily come out of the closet years ago to supportive parents.

He wondered if Dylan could say the same.

Leaving the truck, Harper approached Dylan and held out his hand. “Harper Reynolds.”

“Dylan Warren.”

They shook, and that spark of attraction grew into a blaze of need. One, Harper was happy to say, that seemed to affect the doc as well. Nodding to the back double doors of the covered porch, Harper silently led Dylan up the stairs and through them. They stopped at a small podium, where a tall, handsome man attired much like Dylan waited.

Dylan seemed absorbed by the regal furnishings all around them. Antique ceiling tiles, original wainscoting and hardwood floors polished to a fine sheen lent the place an air of nobility. The perfect setting for the doc, apparently, who seemed to let go of the starch holding his shoulders so stiff.

“Hey, Tony. I have a guest tonight.” Harper stepped closer to Dylan and put a hand on his shoulder, and Dylan tensed again. Harper deliberately leaned in and let his breath brush Dylan’s ear. “We’ll start at the bar, I think.”

Tony smiled. “Good choice. Freddy’s on tonight. You know she makes a mean mojito.”

Freddy Thompson—a hot little blond bartender with big blue eyes who worked most nights. He’d been dying to get his hands on her for months, pretty much like everyone else in the place. He’d had a thing for her since he’d become a club member, but he’d been so busy with work that he hadn’t had the time to make a play for anyone. The opportunity to see Dylan again had been too great to ignore. But to see Freddy working on the exact night he’d come in? Maybe Fate had smiled on him twice in one day.

Harper grinned. “Sign the form and follow me, Doc.”

“Form?”

Tony handed Dylan a clipboard and pen, and explained about the nondisclosure agreement. Part of what had drawn Harper to the place was that what happened at the club, stayed at the club.

Dylan frowned at him, then read the form and signed it. After handing it back to Tony, he followed Harper into a dimly lit room crowded with diners. Tables littered the floor, while a long bar took up the far wall. Patrons Harper recognized, and a few he didn’t, gave them a second look. Used to it, and not sure why people found his rough looks attractive, he ignored it.

He had an urge to put his hand on Dylan though, signifying to one and all that the hot doc belonged with him. But he didn’t want to press his luck. Not yet.

“I didn’t know this place existed. That paperwork was weird, but this is nice. I like it.” Dylan paused. “I take it you come here a lot.” He sat with Harper at one end of the long, polished bar.

“Yep.” Harper watched the play of shadows over Dylan’s face, the way the candlelight flickered and caressed his features. Dylan had incredible appeal, and he had to know it. Yet he didn’t seem arrogant or conceited, just sure of himself.

“What?”

“Just trying to figure out what makes you tick. I figure you have a leg up on me. You’re the shrink, right?”

Dylan frowned. “I’m not all that fond of shrink. You sound like my brothers.”

“Well now. I don’t want you thinking of me like a brother. Not at all.”

Dylan’s gaze swept to Harper’s mouth. A subtle flush lit Dylan’s cheeks and seemed to brighten the green of his eyes. “Trust me, I don’t think of you like a brother. I can barely handle my annoying siblings as it is. Adding you to the mix would be like throwing gasoline on a fire.”

Harper put a hand over his heart. “Harsh, Doc.”

“Call me ‘Dylan’.”

“Dylan.” Harper smiled, met and held Dylan’s gaze, then let it go. The heady rush of connection filled him, centering in his groin with a pleasurable thickness. He hadn’t felt this way in a long time—well, not since first laying eyes on Freddy.

“I need a drink,” Dylan muttered.

Dylan looked around, and Harper wasn’t surprised to see him narrow his gaze on Freddy instead of her fellow bartender. The woman looked good enough to eat. She had a slender build, short spiky blond hair, and bright blue eyes that looked almost too blue to be real. He knew for a fact she didn’t wear contacts—he’d asked.

Tonight she wore a silver cropped tank that glittered when she moved and showed off her toned shoulders and arms. When she reached high above her for a glass, he glimpsed a peek of her flat belly. A pair of black pants, boots and a silver belt completed her outfit. Freddy had her brow pierced and several tattoos on her lower back, which she’d jokingly referred to as her tramp stamps the last time they’d talked.

He liked her. She liked him. But with their work schedules, somehow they’d never quite come together.

She saw them looking at her, so she sauntered toward them and flipped a towel over her shoulder. The woman’s walk always made him wonder what she’d be like between the sheets. She had a sensual way to her that begged exploration.

“Hey, Freddy.”

“Harper.” She winked. “Who’s your friend? Don’t think I’ve seen him in here before.”

“Freddy Thompson, meet Dylan Warren.”

Dylan held out a hand and Freddy took it. To Harper, it seemed as if the world had shut down to enclose just the three of them. Freddy and Dylan locked on to one another, and he could almost feel the fireworks going off. He’d always felt chemistry with the blonde, and now she felt it with Dylan as well, a man Harper intended to get to know better. He started doing the math and fantasized about possibilities.

“So, Freddy,” Harper said in a deep voice, unable to hide his arousal. “Dylan and I are going to hang out and have a few drinks. Then I thought I’d show him around.”

“Oh?”

Harper’s celibate lifestyle the past few months was coming back to haunt him, because he found himself near two people that stirred his desire to no end. He suddenly wanted nothing more than to go upstairs and fuck them both like crazy. Where the hell had his infamous control gone?

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Yeah. Dylan’s never been here before.”

“So what is this place?” Dylan asked. “I had to sign a form just to get in. A private club, Harper mentioned.”

Freddy grinned. “It’s a place where people can hang out and do…whatever. I’m sure Harper will tell you all about it.” She glanced between the two of them, her interest obvious, yet she did nothing about it. Or maybe Harper was imagining things. “So what can I get you boys?”

They ordered beers, and she gave them two long necks and one glass and left with a wave and a smile.

She’d remembered Harper never used a glass. A good sign. Harper took a large drink, suddenly thirsty.

Dylan poured his beer into a glass, not surprising. Though Harper would have given a lot to see the man put his mouth over that bottle, he liked the sophisticated sensibility Dylan wore like a second skin. Yet another reason Dylan couldn’t pass as his twin.

Harper enjoyed the cold brew. “I don’t know about you, but I had a helluva day. Natalie was happy enough to sign off on your deal, but then I had to go mediate a bunch of other projects stalling in the city.” He sighed. “Not that I necessarily mind confrontation, but I feel like a peacemaker half the time, when I’d much rather be working with my hands.”

Dylan snorted. “You think your day had problems? I nearly got busted pretending to be my delinquent twin. I had to wear his crappy clothes, deal with your boss from hell, and then I had to meet my mother for lunch. That wouldn’t have been so bad. But I ended up dealing with her new boyfriend.” He downed the entire beer in one sitting. “I need another.”

Freddy returned to grab his empty before he could ask. “Another beer, or something else?”

“Scotch, straight. Hell, bring me two of them.”

Freddy nodded and left.

Harper studied his new friend. “Not liking your mother’s new man, eh?”

“No.” Dylan frowned. “I don’t know why the hell I’m telling you this.”

“Sure you do. You need to vent, and who am I going to tell?” Harper drank some more and studied Dylan, noting the way his brows drew close when he frowned, creating a small line between them. The way his lips pursed and looked fuller, sexier. The pulse ticked at the base of his neck, where his collared shirt parted.

“You want me to take my clothes off right here?” Dylan asked dryly.

“I wouldn’t mind. Neither would anyone else.” Harper grinned. “This private club is a place where sexual fantasy and all things taboo are accepted. Men and women play with guaranteed discretion. It’s also why the fees for membership are so high.”

Freddy returned at that moment, overhearing, and laughed at Dylan’s stunned expression. “Oh, he’s really new, isn’t he?”

“Yeah.” Harper licked his lips and took another drag on his beer.

“Like a bright, shiny new penny.” Freddy wiggled her brows at Dylan. “Enjoy your Scotch, sexy.” Freddy placed two glasses before him, grabbed another beer for Harper, then left them again to get back to customers waiting at the bar.

“A sex club in Augusta. Go figure.” Dylan took a sip of his drink. He tilted his head as he regarded Harper. “From the way you looked at me, then Freddy, I’m guessing you’re not particular about gender.” Fancy words, yet blunt enough to be understood.

“Nope. I’m just like you.” Harper waited to see if Dylan would admit it. To his satisfaction, Dylan nodded. Good. Not repressed about his sexuality, then.

“I’m bisexual.” Dylan shrugged. “Never made any bones about it if asked, though I don’t go around shouting that I’m bi from the rooftops.”

“Yeah, I get that.” Harper watched him drink, wanting to see those lips on him. Soon. He shifted on his stool to relieve the pressure on his dick. “Does Derrick give you shit for it?”

“All the time. But it’s a brother thing. He teases Gage about anything and everything too.” Dylan frowned at Harper. “You seem pretty tuned in to my brother.”

“If that’s your way of asking if I have a thing for him, the answer is no. I mean, yeah, he’s hot. Sexy, with those deep-green eyes and that fuckable mouth,” Harper answered in a gravelly voice, completely turned on by Dylan’s proximity. “But that’s just the outside package. Derrick’s more a friend. No sexual vibes there.” Harper liked that Dylan couldn’t seem to look away from his mouth.