“I see what you’re saying. I even get why you would think the answer was shitty, but I also think if you explained what happened last night about youaccidentallyseeing the message, we could have handled this differently.”
“You could have also explained that you responded to a hookup text earlier,” she counters.
I open my mouth to argue there wasn’t a point, but then I think better of it and say, “I get what you’re saying,” instead.
Harlyn sinks farther into the chair and averts her eyes. “Sorry for looking through the old messages and for… my part in this.”
I reach up and run my finger along her jaw, gently urging her to return her attention to me. “I’m sorry too.”
Her eyes narrow infinitesimally, making me question if there’s more I should say, or if she would let me kiss her, because that’s what I really want to do. When she demanded to get out of the car, that’s when I became really worried. Some part of me grasped just how badly I don’t want Harlyn Wade walking out of my life. Her features soften as my gaze bounces from her eyes, across her cheeks and the little freckles there, then down to her lips. I watch as she tugs in the corner of her mouth, denting her lip, and I lose what little restraint I have when it comes to her. I lean in ever so slowly so she can tell me to get lost if she wants to and breathe her in. I delay the moment our lips brush, but theposition is no less intimate. Harlyn nuzzles her nose against me sweetly, as if she’s just as eager for me to touch her.
I grabthe back of her neck and pull her mouth to mine. The next several minutes are a frenzy of me tugging at her clothes while her nimble fingers remove mine. Her mouth pops open when I push her back against the wall and hook her knee high on my hip. She’s too short for me to get inside her like this, but fuck, I love the way she feels pressed against me, all soft yet unyielding. I slide my hand up the back of her leg and slip my fingers into her pussy. The proof that she wants me just as badly makes it easy to shove two fingers deep inside her heat.
Her breath catches, and I drop my forehead to the wall, forcing myself to slow down before I do something stupid like hurt her by accident. When she sags in my arms, I take it as a sign to slip my fingers in and out of her while my thumb presses down on her clit. “You’re going to make me come,” she warns, and I know it to be true by the way she’s milking my fingers. I press against her harder, shoving my fingers as deep as I can while circling my thumb.
Her hand comes up to cover her mouth before she lets out a muffled whimper while her head jerks back. I move her hand away from her face with my chin and seal my lips to hers, stealing all those sweet sounds of pleasure.
When Harlyn’s kisses slow as she tries to catch her breath, I slip my fingers out of her, then I use the same hand on her shoulder to direct her to her knees. She looks up at me through dark lashes and opens her mouth, giving herself over to me completely. It’s an inherently submissive move, and it makes my cock jerk. I fist my base, squeezing to the point of near pain, hoping in vain it will somehow make this last longer because I will never get enough of her.
Her eyes close when I feed her my dick, inch by slow inch, as if she’s savoring it just as much as I am. Careful not to push her or myself too far, I keep my fingers locked around my shaft. Her throat spams once or twice, and fuck if it doesn’t nearly put me over the edge.
I stroke the side of her face, and her bright blue eyes flash open to gaze up at me. She sucks harder, deeper, and I pull my hips back as the heavy feeling at the base of my spine intensifies. Just as my tip slips out of her mouth, I come, painting her neck and chest. Harlyn looks down, panting, then lifts a hand with short, dark nails and rubs my seed all over her tits. It’s erotic as hell. Thoughts of her filled with my cum, her belly round with my baby, fill my head.
Bracing my hand against the wall, I kneel in front of her. If I weren’t terrified by my own thoughts, I would beg her to let me do it now.
“Don’t come down here.” She waves her hands around, reminding me where we are.
“I go where you go.” I cradle her jaw in my hands and kiss her. It’s slow, but no less demanding. I need every piece of Harlyn Wade, and she seems more than willing to give it.
CHAPTER 26
Harlyn
“So do you have any updates on the guard guy from Michigan? I looked online to see what I could find, but there’s barely been any coverage on it,” Liv questions. It’s been nice feeling like I have my friend back. Occasionally, the tension of distance or how I got here will make things a little more awkward between us, but after a long call once I got a new phone when I really took time to explain everything and groveled a bit, Liv has been more than understanding.
“Boone hasn’t said anything.”
“Other than, ‘Oh baby, let me in your back door!’” She grunts in exaggeration.
“Pretty much, that’s all we ever talk about.”
“I knew you were a closet freak, but now that we’re on the topic, is Officer Rear Door Action there?”
“No.” I make the one word sound like a pout. Boone hasn’t been here much at all in the past several days, and I’m starting to go a little stir crazy.
“Boo for you, but yay for me. Give me the nitty-gritty. I want to knoweverything.”
I grin at the thought but cringe at the same time. Olivia is serious when she says she wants to know everything. She can be an oversharer when it comes to her sex life, and she expects the same kind of attention to detail in return. I got out of this conversation once before when Boone was actually here, but there’s no way I’m getting off the hook as easily now.
“Like what?” I play dumb while picking at the corner of a pillow.
“Harlyn Wade, don’t you deprive me of this! You owe me for not kicking your ass after you left.” Her tone is teasing, but the undercurrent of truth still rings in her statement. Not only that, but I want to talk to her—need to talk to her, in fact, because I feel like I’m drowning in Boone, and I don’t think I want to come up. Maybe she can talk some sense into me before I admit to being hopelessly in love with him way too fast to be healthy.
“Yeah, yeah,” I agree around a smile I can’t seem to fight when I’m thinking about Boone.
“So spill,” she demands.
I imagine her pulling her legs up on the bed to sit crisscross and staring down at the phone. Hell, I’m surprised she didn’t ask to FaceTime, but I don’t think I could say some of the things I want to while looking at her, so I start talking before she gets the same idea. “He’s…”
