I wasn’t losing my sisters, and I definitely wasn’t losing Harry.
I just had to make sure I didn’t do anything like that to him ever again. No matter how good it felt, and how sure I was that he wanted it too.
Dom
Ishifted my weight from foot-to-foot, squeezing my fists as I shoved them in my pockets to hide the indecision that hummed around me as I waited for Harry’s front door to open.
It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since the biggest fuck-up of my life, and I was probably about to make everything ten-times worse.
He and Molly had a perfect little two-story house that looked exactly like all the other perfect two-story houses within a mile radius. Nice small garden out front with a driveway, pretty light blue door, and decorations in the window that screamed ‘happy couple’, like a wicker love heart and large pastel pink candles.
Awful, really. I poked fun at Harry about it once, but he got huffy, so I dropped it. It hadn’t changed my mind, though. I hated cutesy things, but the hospital was only a five-minute walk away, and easier for Molly to get to work, but it meant he had a half-hour drive every morning.
The door swung open, and I briefly fingered the phone in my left pocket that held evidence of my crime.
Harry’s face brightened into a wide smile, one I hadn’t seen properly for months. I had a stupid idea last night that maybe we could do it again, and his smile was tipping the scale. But I was here to return the phone. Or hide it, really. That was it.
He was already dressed in a navy suit. His chestnut beard was neatly trimmed, his hair styled, his grandpa’s cufflinks and polished shoes all in place, the image of a high-class businessman. No one had a clue that he was stroking and fingering himself last night, apart from me.
But the worst part was he was wearing a red apron over it all, and it set off an instant need to devour him.
He reached for me, pulling me into a hug. I was too surprised to react. I was usually the one touching him, and he tended to endure it. The warm brush of his breath on my neck sent a fresh wave of desire running through me. One solid beat of my heart pounded through my body, stealing my breath. By the time I lifted my arms to hold him, he was already stepping away.
“I’m so glad you’re here.” He beamed up at me, grabbing my arm and twisting on one foot to pull me inside.
It wasn’t exactly the reception I anticipated, but I’d take it, nonetheless.
“I’ve only got ten minutes before I need to leave,” he rushed out, “but it’s really good to see you again.” He led me into the kitchen, leaving me next to the counter by the fridge while he pottered around. “Do you want coffee or anything?”
“No, I’m fine,” I said slowly, trying to assess what wasgoing on.
“Tea? Fruit?”
“No, thanks, handsome. I'm good,” I replied softly.
I folded my arms, watching him closely as he hummed, putting cat food out for Mr Snuggles, giving him a quick kiss on the head before he went back to the washing up. Which explained the apron that he'd tied in a ribbon, the strands stroking over his ass like arrows pointing to my final destination.
Two seconds in and he was already turning me on.
I mean, I’d seen him like this before. It wasn’t anything different. I’d even had to force him out the door in the past while I finished the washing up because he’d been late for work.
I was still staring at his ass when he spun around, cocking his head. “Why did you want to see me, then?”
I cleared my throat, watching him as he returned to the dishes. “I don’t know if I can make it to brunch on Sunday. My workload is pretty heavy.” I leant against the counter, tapping my fingers on my arm.
“Really?” He paused, his rubber-gloved hands dripping with soap, narrowing his eyes at me. “And you came over to tell me that? You could have just called.”
“Well, I…” I trailed off, rubbing my hand on the back of my neck as he watched me with clear brown eyes, not a single drop of suspicion. And why would there be? “I wanted to apologise for the other night. For taking off and everything.”
It was a fucking lame excuse, but it was the only thing I had at the moment.
“Oh, that’s fine.” He turned his back to me again and waved a hand in front of him, bubbles dripping onto the sideboard.
I was struck by the need to hold him. If we were lovers, I would have wrapped my arms around him, dragged his hips back against my cock and told him exactly how I felt about him leaving for work when I was still hungry for him.
What a fucking nightmare. I thought I'd squashed all that shit a decade ago and stayed his friend instead.
“But thank you for coming to say that. It’s kind of you.” Harry plopped the last wet dish in the rack before slipping off the gloves and wringing his hands with a tea towel. His eyes softened, his smile genuine as he stepped towards me.
