Please don’t look down. Please don’t look down,I pray.
“Like what, Harrison?”
“Like…” He runs his nails over the wooden grooves of the bench. “As if in that moment, there was no one else in the world for you but me.”
He sounds so unsure of himself. The Harrison I know holds himself high and with confidence. Unless…this is the Harrison I met at the bachelor auction. The vulnerable Harrison that almost stopped breathing when I placed my hand over his chest.
I need to tell him I’m not the person he thinks I am. I want him to see me, the real me.
Harrison takes a step forward and raises his hand slowly to my face.
“Your hair is impossibly soft,” he says.
“I can tell you which conditioner I use.”
He smiles. “You smell like the rainforest.”
“I only use regular soap because I spend too much time covered in paint to bother using the good stuff.”
He shakes his head. “You have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen.
“They’re just bl—”
“Shut up, Fletcher.”
Harrison pulls me forward and slams his lips against mine. It takes me a hair’s breadth to give in to him and less than that to realize I have no choice. Not because he wouldn’t stop, but because it’s hopeless to think I’ll ever refuse anything from this man.
Breathing becomes overrated as he seeks entry into my mouth. I gasp, just like he does, but we don’t stop kissing. He picks me up and carries me two steps until I feel the workbench under my ass.
His arms are tight around my waist, and I take advantage of the increased height and not having to hold myself up to run my hands over every single inch of Harrison’s skin I can get to.
“Harrison,” I say between breaths as he bites my lower lip.
“Don’t talk. Please, don’t talk.”
As if I could even construct a coherent thought, let alone voice it.
Harrison’s lips move from my mouth on an expedition. He kisses and licks my chin, neck, and collarbone. I swear he smells my hair, but I can’t be sure because I can’t think.
All I can do is hold on to him and enjoy the ride.
When it’s obvious there’s too much fabric in the way, he pushes me down until my back is on the bench. He runs a hand down from my chest until he’s cupping my erection.
“Fuck,” I gasp. “Please tell me you’re going to do something about it before I combust.”
“Dad?”
I sit up so quickly I bump my head on Harrison’s.
“Shit.”
I jump from the bench and run to the window, seeing George walking over with my phone in his hand.
Harrison seems frozen in place while I scramble to tie my messy hair up. Thank god I always keep a hair tie in my pocket.
I give Harrison a quick glance, and he nods, so I open the studio door.
“What’s up, buddy?”
