Crazy Little Thing Called Lust

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"Harley, darling," he purred, his voice dripping with mischief, and her heart skipped a beat. She strutted toward him, grinning like the criminal he had molded her into.

He glanced up at her, that sinister smile tugging at his lips. "I've been watching you," he murmured.

And I've been watching you, Mister J, she thought to herself with a quiet chuckle.

"I'm sure you have, puddin'! I am your partner in crime," she replied, her grin widening.

"Not like that. More than a partner in crime." His tone was laced with meaning, and she knew exactly where he was going. Her heart raced. She loved him, and deep down, she knew he loved her too—he just never said it outright. Maybe this was it.

He rose abruptly, grabbing her hand with a roughness that made her laugh. She adored his intensity.

In one swift move, he had her pinned against the wall, his lips crashing into hers. She kissed him back eagerly, her world spinning. His lips trailed to her neck, leaving a path of heated, wet marks as he went.

And then, just as abruptly, he stopped, pulling away with a sly grin. "Not today, darlin'," he teased.

She smirked, leaning against the wall, watching as he pulled out his phone. The buzzing sound she'd missed suddenly made sense. He answered the call without hesitation, his voice instantly slipping into businesslike chaos.

With a dramatic sigh, she pushed off the wall and flopped onto the couch nearby, huffing as she crossed her arms. Even when he left her wanting more, she couldn't help but admire the way he always kept her guessing.

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