Harrison had the bright idea of celebrating the universe with a drink first.
I took it a step further, jumping in the pool with the bottle. I don’t know what came over me, but I wanted to live in the moment. It’s not often I let loose, especially with Harrison.
Within two point two seconds, Harrison was naked, jumping in after me, and at one point, we were in the shallow end, with Harrison on his knees and my legs around his neck. That’s how I got the scrapes…when he had me braced against the wall.
Harrison lifts my top leg and slowly enters me from behind.
My eyes flutter shut. “That feels amazing, H.”
I don’t how, but I’m always so wet for him in the morning. Maybe my body recognizes him wrapped around me in my sleep and is roaring to go the second I open my eyes.
Who knows.
He places my leg back down. “Your leg is sore?”
He can always tell.“A little,” I admit.
He rubs over my hip and down the side of my thigh. “Keep it down like this. Tight together, and we’ll ice it after.”
I moan as he pulls out and slowly pushes back in. “Okay.”
“Oh fuck. You’re so tight like this.”
“Don’t go any faster. It feels perfect.”
He squeezes his arms around my chest and buries his face in my neck. “I know, baby. So good.”
Harrison’s phone rings, and we ignore it. When it rings two more times, we hesitate.
It could be Claudina.
A car door slams in the near distance.
Then another one.
I look over my shoulder, and when we hear the third car door slam, Harrison pulls out as quickly and gently as possible, and we fly up, frantically trying to get dressed.
I look across the room and cover my mouth to contain my laughter. Harrison’s standing there with a pained, scrunched-up face as he tries to tuck his hard dick into his shorts.
The front door slams shut, and my eyes widen.Oh no.
“Hello?” a man’s voice calls from downstairs.
22
Juliette
“Someone is getting fucking murdered today,”Harrison mutters and tosses me a dress to throw on. “Maybe stay here for two minutes, then come down so I can explain something to Claud.”
“Explain what. Me?”
“Yes. She’s intuitive for a five-year-old. She’s going to have a lot of questions when she finds out you slept over.” He walks into the bathroom, and I follow behind him.
“Well, what exactly will you say?”
“No fucking clue.” He pulls himself out and starts to pee.
I throw my hands up and turn. “A little warning would have been nice.”
