Chapter 31: The Hot Tub Game

Harper stepped into the penthouse Monday evening, the city's twilight glow spilling through the floor-to-ceiling windows, her body still thrumming from this morning's chaos with Zane Carver. The memory of his hands pinning her to the kitchen island, coffee spilling as he thrust into her, her screams shattering the quiet—it clung to her like a second skin, a heat that hadn't faded through a long day of meetings and deadlines. Her black blazer hung loose over her white blouse, trousers creased from hours at her desk, and she kicked off her low heels by the door, the hardwood cool against her bare feet, a welcome relief after the grind.The space was quiet—no jazz yet, just the faint hum of the city beyond the glass, the walnut table gleaming under pendant lights, flowers drooping slightly from last night's wreckage. She dropped her bag on the sectional, her muscles tight from sitting too long, her mind buzzing with the day's noise—client calls, design tweaks, the weight of their new life together settling in. Zane wasn't home yet, his office hours often stretching later than hers, and she exhaled, sharp and unsteady, craving the decompression only he could bring.She padded to the kitchen, pouring a glass of Pinot Noir from an open bottle on the counter—rich, velvety, a deep red that matched the bruise on her neck, still tender from his morning mark. The wine slid down her throat, warming her chest, loosening the knots, and she leaned against the island, the marble cool where they'd fucked hours ago, a ghost of their chaos lingering in the air. Her lips curved, a slow smile at the memory—his growled Mine, her breathless Yours, the mug shattering on the floor. They'd showered again, rushed to work, but the heat hadn't left her, simmering beneath every task, every glance at her phone waiting for his text.The elevator dinged at 7:32 p.m., and he stepped out—barefoot already, dark suit jacket slung over his shoulder, tie loose around his neck, his gray eyes lighting up as they locked onto her. His shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves rolled up, his hair tousled from a day of running his empire, and his smirk was instant—warm, wicked, a promise that made her pulse jump. He dropped his bag by hers, crossing to the kitchen in that slow, deliberate stride that always unraveled her, stopping close enough that she caught his scent—cedar, sweat, him."Long day?" he asked, his voice a low drawl, snagging her wine glass to take a sip, his lips brushing where hers had been, his hand settling on her hip—a spark that sent heat up her spine."Endless," she replied, her voice husky, leaning into his touch, her hand sliding to his chest, feeling his heartbeat quicken under her palm. "You?""Same." He set the glass down, his hand tightening on her hip, pulling her closer—chest to chest, her blazer crumpling against his shirt. "Missed you, though. Too quiet without your chaos.""Chaos?" She smirked, shoving at his chest, playful but firm, but he didn't budge—just grinned, his free hand catching her wrist, pinning it behind her as he backed her against the island, the edge biting her thighs. "You're the one breaking mugs.""Worth it." His lips hovered over hers, teasing, his breath warm with wine and want, and she moaned, soft and needy, her hips rocking against him, feeling him harden through his slacks. He groaned, low and rough, his hand sliding to her ass, squeezing through the fabric, a promise of more—but then he pulled back, his smirk widening, mischief glinting in his eyes."Tease," she muttered, tugging her wrist free, her hands fisting his shirt, pulling him back, but he stepped away, heading for the terrace door, tossing a challenge over his shoulder."Hot tub," he said, his voice dropping, rough with intent. "Strip—join me. Let's play.""Play?" She arched a brow, her pulse racing, following him out—the concrete expanse bathed in twilight, city lights flickering below, the hot tub bubbling softly, steam rising into the cooling air. "What's the game?""Control." He turned, peeling off his shirt, baring his chest—hard, scratched from her nails, a map of their morning—his slacks following, boxers last, leaving him naked, sculpted, pulsing, ready. He stepped into the tub, the water rippling around his thighs, his eyes locking onto hers—dark, daring. "First one to beg loses."Her laugh was shaky, heat flaring at the stakes, and she shed her blazer, tossing it onto a lounge chair, her blouse unbuttoned slow and deliberate—white fabric parting to reveal black lace, her trousers sliding down, panties next, until she stood bare—flushed, trembling, her body a canvas of his marks. The air was cool against her skin, a contrast to the heat pooling low, and she stepped into the tub, the water hot and silky, lapping at her calves, her thighs, her hips as she sank in, facing him across the small, steaming space."Game on," she said, her voice husky, leaning back against the edge, her arms resting on the rim, her breasts just above the water, nipples hardening in the air—a tease she knew would test him. He groaned, low and deep, his hands flexing under the surface, his eyes raking over her—hungry, possessive, barely restrained."Fuck, Harper," he rasped, shifting closer, the water sloshing as he stopped inches away, his hands hovering over her thighs, not touching—yet. "You're cheating already.""Am I?" She smirked, her foot sliding up his leg under the water, brushing his inner thigh, teasing just shy of where he pulsed, hard and ready. He hissed, his head tipping back, water streaming over his shoulders as he gripped the edge, knuckles white, fighting for control."Dirty," he growled, his hand darting out, catching her ankle, pulling her leg higher—her calf resting on his shoulder, her core exposed under the water, the heat of his gaze burning through the steam. She gasped, her hands gripping the rim, her hips shifting, craving his touch, but he held back, his smirk wicked, his breath ragged."Your move," he said, his voice rough, his free hand sliding to her other thigh, spreading her wider, the water lapping at her skin, amplifying every sensation—hot, slick, maddening. She moaned, louder now, the sound carrying over the city hum, and she retaliated—her hand dipping under the water, brushing his chest, his abs, teasing just above where he ached, drawing a groan from his throat."Zane—" Her voice broke, a plea she fought to swallow, her fingers trembling as she pulled back, leaning forward instead, her lips hovering over his—a whisper apart, teasing, tasting his breath. He groaned again, his hands tightening on her thighs, pulling her closer, their bodies brushing—skin to skin, heat to heat, the water swirling around them, a cocoon of steam and need."Love you," he murmured, his lips brushing hers—not a kiss, not yet, a torture of restraint as he rocked against her, slow and deliberate, his arousal grazing her core, sparking heat that made her tremble. She whimpered, her hands sliding to his shoulders, nails digging in, her hips bucking instinctively, chasing the edge, but he held steady, his smirk faltering, his eyes dark with hunger."Love you too," she panted, her voice husky, shoving at his chest, playful but desperate, breaking his hold as she shifted—straddling him, her legs wrapping around his hips, the water sloshing as she settled over him, his hardness pressed against her, teasing without entering. He groaned, loud and wrecked, his hands gripping her ass, guiding her as she rocked—slow, torturous, a game of who'd break first."Fuck—Harper—" His growl shattered, his head tipping back, water streaming over his face as she ground against him, the friction building, the heat coiling tight, her moans echoing off the glass walls—wild, shameless, a sound that owned the night. She laughed, shaky and needy, her hands fisting his hair, pulling him closer, their lips brushing—a whisper of a kiss that made him tremble, his control slipping."Beg," she gasped, her hips rocking faster, the water splashing, her body trembling on the brink, but he flipped her—pinning her against the tub's edge, her back to the rim, his chest pressed to hers, his hands pinning her wrists above her head. He thrust—slow, deep, entering her fully, filling her with a stretch that drew a cry from her throat, the water amplifying every sensation—hot, slick, overwhelming."Zane—fuck—" Her voice broke, her legs locking around him, pulling him tighter as he moved—a rhythm that shook the tub, water spilling over the edge, her screams bouncing off the concrete, the city a distant hum below. He groaned, his lips on her neck, sucking hard, marking her anew as he thrust harder, deeper, his hands releasing her wrists to grip her hips, guiding her as she met every thrust, her climax building, a wave she couldn't hold back."Love you—shit—" His voice cracked, his lips brushing hers, his hands sliding to her ass, lifting her higher as he thrust faster, the water churning, the tub groaning under their weight. She clawed at his back, her nails raking his skin—still scratched from morning, a map of her need—and he flipped her again, pulling her to her knees, entering her from behind—faster, rawer—his mouth on her shoulder, biting as she pushed back, the rhythm relentless."Zane—please—" Her plea splintered, frantic, and he reached around, fingers finding her, circling, pushing her over the edge as he thrust deep, the tub rattling, water splashing onto the concrete. She shattered, her climax hitting hard, a scream tearing from her throat as she clenched around him, pulsing, undone—her body trembling, her hands gripping the rim, steam fogging the air. He followed, a guttural roar as he buried himself in her, his release hot and fierce, his arms banding around her as they slumped against the edge, breathless, wrecked, water lapping at their skin.They stayed there, tangled in each other, the hot tub a chaos of spilled water, their breaths ragged in the steam, her legs still draped over him, his hands possessive on her hips. He kissed her—slow, deep, tasting of them both, a seal on their game. "I win," he murmured, his voice rough, satisfied, his hand sliding to her jaw, holding her there."Bullshit," she panted, too spent to argue properly, her body still trembling with aftershocks as she leaned into him, the water warm against her cheek. "I didn't beg—you did.""Liar." He laughed, rough and warm, pulling her closer, his heartbeat steady under her palm, and she let herself sink, the game a draw, the love complete—for now. "Shower—bed. Round two later.""Promises," she smirked, sliding out of his hold, her legs shaky as she climbed from the tub, water dripping from her hair, her body glistening in the twilight. He followed, wrapping a towel around her—his hands lingering, drying her with possessive care, his eyes glinting with mischief, promising more.Tomorrow, they'd face another day—work, fights, the life they'd build—but tonight, on their terrace, with his hands claiming her skin, she didn't care. They'd played their game, lost and won together, and it was everything she'd feared and craved.