Harry and Grace…
Without deceit, without tricks, without games.
“Grace,” Harry whispers, kissing his saliva from my naked breast, causing more shivers to attack me. “You’re so damn beautiful.”
“Well, youwouldsay that,” I sass, a moan making my words come out all shaky. “But if I put my clothes on, I bet you’d change your tune pretty darn quickly.”
“No,” he moans, serious intensity in his eyes. “I mean it. And I’m so fucking glad we’ve stopped playing games.”
I lean down, the obvious sincerity of his words striking a chord deep inside of me. “Me too,” I whisper, kissing him, our tongues grazing for a brief moment. “But if you stop right now, that might change, bad boy.”
“Oh”—he grins wolfishly—“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
He slides his finger inside of me, finding that spot that drives me insane so quickly now.
Our bodies have become accustomed to each other, just like they were in our lives before.
Old dreams are destined to come true.
I used to dream that Harry and I would be together forever.
We’d express our love for each other every fricking day.
But that’s the only sore point hanging between us.
We haven’t saidI love you yet.
And, heck, that’s one crazy gamble right there.
Shoot first and you’re screwed.
All these thoughts surge as an undercurrent through my mind as the main event takes hold, Harry sliding another finger deep inside of me, caressing and teasing.
I grip his wrist, digging my fingernails onto his taut forearm, moving him quicker and quicker.
“Ah!” I cry.
Blistering fireworks cascade like hot rain through my body as the orgasm attacks me.
Harry leans up, his arm pumping furiously as he brings his lips to mine.
I throw my arms around him and melt into the kiss, moving my tongue over his teeth and around his tongue, and then moaning into the embrace, mouth wide open as he pulls more and more euphoria out of me.
I love you, I almost say.
But I stop myself.
I don’t want to ruin this, not when things are finally going right.
***
“That’s great, sis,” Harry says later, sitting up in my bed with a T-shirt quickly thrown onto his chiseled torso when Gemma video-called him from England.
She left a few days after the standoff with Markus. Since then, Markus has already made his first child support payment, after Harry forced him into taking the DNA test he tried every trick in the book to get out of.
“I know,” Gemma beams as I sit on the desk chair, half waiting for my blog page to load and half watching Harry.
I don’t know why the page is taking so fricking long.
