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Chapter One Hundred And Thirty Five

Harper's POV

My eyes blaze with anger as I see him stop in his tracks at the sound of my voice. His hands ball into fists as he slowly turns to face me. I climb the stairs with deliberate sultriness, feeling his gaze roam over my body. The bulge in his trousers is unmistakable, and his shirtless form exudes a raw, predatory intensity. Yet something seems to be holding him back.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Josh?” I shout, my frustration palpable. I feel like a woman denied her release.

“No, Harper, I’m sorry, I can’t continue,” he responds, his tone pained.

“Really? You leave me hanging, and now you stand there telling me you can’t continue?” I seethe, pointing at him. My anger blinds me, and I am right in front of him, demanding answers. “Why did you start something only to stop abruptly? Tell me, Josh, what the hell happened?”

“I just can’t, Harper,” he says. But before I can respond, he pulls me into a rough, urgent kiss. He pours all his frustration, lust, and desperate need
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