Harper strides confidently over to the piano. He shoos Colby off the piano bench, and Colby goes with raised eyebrows and a small, knowing smile. Harper takes a seat at the bench, dancing his fingers so lightly over the keys that no sound happens. Leaning back harder against the leather sofa, I watch as Harper finally starts to play the beginnings of “The Climb.” Probably not the song that Trevor was going for, but something in my heart goes just a little wonky at the familiar sound of the song.
A furrow of deep concentration forms between Harper’s brow. His auburn hair flows over his shoulders, but a few pieces escape to cover his face. I absolutely loathe those few strands of errant hair. I want to brush the strands away so I can have a clear picture of his face when he starts to sing. Trevor unfurls from the sofa and joins Harper at the bench, earning him a surprised look from Harper.
They sing the song together, voices just barely harmonizing. Trevor’s voice is low, while Harper’s is a little higher, but a small,private smile warms Harper’s face as they sing, and that’s what matters most.
“I didn’t know he could play,” I murmur helplessly, caught in another wave of desire.
“He was a bit of a prodigy as a kid,” Beau says like he’s sharing a state secret.
I raise one eyebrow. “What happened?”
Beau shrugs. “Nothing. He just lost the passion for it, I guess.”
Harper finishes playing the song, a warm, beautiful flush on the apples of his cheeks. Everyone claps as Harper does a small bow while seated. His eyes meet mine just as his hand slowly lifts to tug at his left ear. That’s my cue.
“On that note, we’ll be heading out.” I shake hands with Beau and Colby.
Harper’s just finishing hugging Trevor when I finally make my way over to him. I kiss both Trevor and Eli on the cheeks before guiding Harper out of the house without a single word. Honey streaks ahead of us and waits like a good girl for me to open the back door up for her. Once she’s settled in the back row, I help Harper into the passenger seat, then lean in to kiss him firmly on the mouth.
I pull away before I can get carried away. Harper’s mouth has a way of short-circuiting my brain.
“I didn’t know you could play piano,” I admit into the quiet of the car.
Harper waves his hand dismissively. “I played as a kid; now it’s mostly one of those fun little tidbits when there’s an icebreaker somewhere.”
“I thought you played beautifully.”
“Colby has a baby grand. Anything I play on it will sound beautiful.”
I huff in irritation. “Harper, take a damn compliment.”
Harper’s fingers dance across his thigh, and he turns his head away so that his face is hidden from me. Sometimes, the man makes no sense. He likes to be a little shit and make people laugh, but when attention is on him, he turns profoundly uncomfortable. He’s a mystery inside a puzzle inside an enigma. How many years is it going to take for me to understand him? I don’t fucking care because I’ll wait, but it’s infuriating.
I think Harper may need a heavier hand than I initially realized.
Harper keeps the lights off in the house, so only the glow of the under-cabinet kitchen lights breaks through the dark. I follow him into his bedroom like he’s a planet, and I’m just a moon stuck in his orbit. Which is the truth of the matter. I’ve been circling him for months now. Harper lifts off his navy-blue sweater, dropping it to the ground without a care in the world.
He starts to unbuckle his pants just as he turns his head to peer at me over the creamy skin of his shoulder. “You should fuck me.”
Christ. He always wants to ruin my goddamn plans. Blood rushes in my ears at the sight of him wiggling out of his jeans. The sight of all that pale, creamy skin has saliva pooling in my mouth. I need to worship him with my lips, kissing every inch of his skin. Harper finally shimmies out of his boxers, leaving him gloriously nude. God, his ass. I want to bury my face between his cheeks and live there for the rest of my days. Giving him every ounce of pleasure he’s deserved his entire life.
“Harper,” I say his name like a swear.
He stretches his arms over his head, bunching up the slight muscles on his back. Dimples pop on each of his ass cheeks. I can hear my breath coming faster, somehow disconnected from my own body.
“Yes, Daddy?” Harper says, voice a low tease.
“Go take a shower and clean yourself for me. Thoroughly. I’ll be waiting here for you.”
Harper’s shoulders tense with the command, but he doesn’t argue. A sign that tells me he’s thankful not to be given an option. My Harper is a brat to his core, but when he wants something deep down, he doesn’t fight. He gives in so easily when it’s what his heart truly desires. And I know what he wants, truly even needs, is for me to be Daddy.
The shower turns on, and moments later the sound of water sluicing over Harper’s body echoes through the room, water hitting the tile walls. I take off my shoes, but that’s it, choosing to stay fully clothed for tonight. The nightstand beside Harper’s bed hides a curious amount of toys that I ignore for now, deciding that’s a question for another time. Grabbing the bottle of lube, I toss it onto the comforter, then wait patiently at the foot of the bed for Harper to finish the shower.
When Harper finally exits the bathroom, a cloud of steam follows him. His skin is flushed with heat and his eyes sharpen at the sight of me still fully dressed.
“I thought you were going to fuck me?” Harper asks quietly, voice beautifully shy.
I point at the bed instead of answering. “Get on the bed, lie on your stomach.”
