Chapter 20
20
“I’m in trouble because of you,” Fraser said as he fetched a rattling set of keys from his jeans.
Harper fiddled with the sleeve of her jumper, feeling coy as she waited for him to open the white front door. She hadn’t known what to expect when he’d offered to take her to his house: it was hard to imagine he lived anywhere that wasn’t made from the trees he spent all day caring for. But they’d meandered back through Belbarrow, passing quiet avenues of terraced houses and, at the very end, a crooked collection of narrow cottages set beside an empty playground on a marshy football field.
He’d halted at the end of a street named Farmview Way. His house was set back behind a withering garden and a row of neat hedges. Beside her, a drain gushed rainwater, and she sidled under the portico to keep dry. There, she noticed a black cat hiding behind the dustbins, tail wafting as its alert green eyes watched Fraser open the door.
“Why are you in trouble? But more importantly, is that your cat?”
He mumbled something nondescript, no doubt about her short attention span. “The neighbour’s. She’s Bernard’s buddy. She’s always waiting for him to come out.”
Speaking of whom, the dog’s barks echoed behind the door. Once it opened, a blur of white and brown raced towards them. Harper giggled, bending down to greet Bernard properly.
“Come on. Let’s get dry.” Fraser ushered them all inside, then kicked off his boots. He disappeared down a narrow corridor into what looked to be a kitchen and opened the back door, commanding Bernard to do his business.
Harper hovered on the welcome mat, feeling suddenly out of her comfort zone. It had been easy to convince herself she didn’t know Fraser well enough to fall for him, when she’d only seen half of his life.
But here was the other half. Pictures of his sisters, nieces, and nephews on the walls. The fragrance of spiced apples and fresh laundry in the air. While he refilled Bernard’s food and water bowls, she crept forwards and peeked into the living room. A cream throw was draped across the back of a grey couch. Toys and books were cluttered haphazardly in one corner, and in another, a shelf was piled with a jumble of DVDs, CDs, and books. A fireplace spanned one wall, a TV mounted above it. It was nice. Cosy. A perfect mixture of chaos and stability.
Bernard came in and shook the water from his fur, leaving paw prints on his way to the food bowl.
“You don’t have to wait there,” Fraser said, closing the door on the rain before returning to her. “I’ll grab you a clean towel, and you can take that shower.”
Harper really was looking forward to a hot shower, even more than she’d like to admit. Still, Fraser wasn’t looking at her properly, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to take her clothes off in a place where she didn’t feel completely safe.
“You didn’t answer my question. Why are you in trouble because of me?” Her heart hammered against her ribs as he drew closer.
He barely seemed to be listening, his gaze roaming her features, slow and intent, as though seeing her for the first time. That familiar tension throbbed between them, and it was an effort to remain still beneath its weight. “I was supposed to be working with Andy at the B&B,” he explained. “They aren’t happy that I disappeared on them.”
“I’m sure they’ll forgive you– but you can’t blame me for it. I was minding my own business. It isn’t my fault you’re devastatingly obsessed with me.”
The ghost of a smirk crossed his face. But it wasn’t enough to reassure her.
“Why have you fallen out with me, Fraser?” She nudged him, hoping he didn’t hear the crack of vulnerability in her voice.
Fraser frowned as he swiped a damp ringlet from her eyes and tucked it behind her ear, rough fingertips grazing her skin. “I haven’t fallen out with you, sunshine. What are you on about?”
“You’ve been… off. And you made a scene in the café, in front of your sister. You were angry.”
He scraped his hair back and huffed. “Aye, because I drove around all afternoon, wondering if you were dead in a ditch somewhere.”
“Again, why ?” Harper asked. “I was fine, and I’m not your responsibility.”
“The authorities might disagree if they find out a woman living under my roof went missing.”
Ah. So that’s what it was. It wasn’t that he cared, not really.
She turned away. “Lucky you got off easy this time, then.” She made to brush past him, assuming the shower he’d promised would be up the carpeted stairs, but he reached out and drew her close, so close that her breath caught in her throat.
“And I was worried about you,” he muttered. “Obviously.”
“ Obviously ,” she repeated with a hint of snark, though lust and something far hotter, far rawer, bloomed within her.
He kissed her lightly, his mouth feathering across her cheek. “Sorry for being a bastard.”
“At least something about you is consistent,” she taunted, resting her hand against his chest.
He clasped it with tender care. “You’re freezing.”
“So warm me up.” It was a dare, one she hoped he’d accept. She hated to be so transparent, but it felt like eons since he’d last touched her like this, and she needed him. Her entire body fluttered with desire and, god, she wished she could read him half as well as he could her. She wished she knew why he pushed her away only to pull her back closer than ever. Did he only want her when it suited him? Was she falling into a dangerous pattern?
Her worries must have been etched across her face, because he paused with his lips only a hair from hers. “What’s wrong?”
“I just wish I knew what you were thinking,” she admitted.
“I’m thinking” – he kissed her slowly, hungrily – “that you drive me mad. All the time. I could barely work this morning thinking of you.”
“Keep talking,” she whispered, softening into him finally.
He kissed her again, tongue heavy and slow in her mouth. “I’m thinking that I don’t feel very casual anymore, and that’s a problem.”
“Is it?”
His hands roved the back of her thighs, encouraging her to rise. She hitched herself onto him, legs wrapping around his hips. His features were sombre as he nodded. “In case you haven’t noticed, I lost my mind today.”
“I’m good with you losing your mind over me.”
He sighed. “Harper. You’re not going to be here forever.”
That was true, though it was hard to remember what her life had looked like before coming here. Meeting him. She’d been looking forward to going home and bragging about her wonderful trip. How productive she’d been. How excited she was to pursue a new career. Now, the thought of leaving at all made her deflated and numb.
She pushed it all away, cupping his jaw in her hands. “So why can’t we just make the most of it? We have time.”
He hesitated as though there was so much more he wanted to say. She understood. She was afraid, too, to give too much of herself and end up regretting it when it was time to say goodbye. Kenzie had already stolen so many pieces of her. Would there be any of her to salvage if she left more with him?
But with Fraser it was different, she convinced herself. She already knew that this was going to end, which meant she could prepare for it. He couldn’t break her heart. He could only crack it, and cracks healed. It was worth it to feel what she felt now. Alive, desired, confident in her own skin for the first time in her life.
Fraser flashed her a ravenous grin. “Making the most of it sounds like a decent idea.”
She expected him to put her down – surely his arms ached by now – but he was unwavering as he carried her towards the stairs, and then up them. His strength left her tingling all over. It had been a long time since anybody had made her feel dainty, and she couldn’t pretend she didn’t enjoy it.
They fell into a bedroom with exposed brick walls and forest-green accents. She was glad for the mess around them, the abandoned jeans pooled in a corner and the dresser top scattered with toiletries. It was good to know he wasn’t completely perfect, even if he felt terribly close to it in this moment.
She giggled as he laid her on the bed, and his smile grew wide. Unbridled. Her fingers dug into his jumper to keep him there, keep him close, and he parted her legs with a nudge of his knee.
“You still want me to warm you up?” he asked huskily.
Harper’s core pulsed with anticipation, and it was an effort not to clench her thighs against him. “Yes.”
“And how, d’you think, should I do it?” Gently, he traced up the seam of her thermal leggings. Suddenly, she hated being so covered. She needed to feel him properly. Needed to get rid of all the things keeping them apart.
“Use your imagination.” She slipped her hands beneath his jumper.
He jerked back from the cold, chuckling as he grabbed her hands and locked them above her head. “I’m not sure I want you touching me with those blocks of ice.”
When his fingers inched towards his belt, she gulped. Was he going to…?
He unfastened the buckle with one swift swipe, yanking the leather from the loops of his jeans one-handed while the other kept her wrists pinned on the bed. It might have been the sexiest thing she’d ever seen. Sexier when he asked, “Is this okay?”
She pouted, fighting against his grip with a squirm, though secretly, she wanted nothing more than to let him take the reins. “What if I want to touch you?”
Fraser nudged the waistband of her leggings down, brushing the cool leather belt against her stomach. She bucked her hips, letting him unveil the rest of her. Her leggings were thrown behind him, rendered useless.
“There’ll be plenty of time for that later.” Ducking, he peppered kisses along the fabric of her underwear. “Fuck, Harper, do you know how many times I’ve wondered what it would feel like to be inside you? Nobody’s ever done this to me before.”
“Nobody?” she asked, surprised. She’d assumed he’d had a long line of lucky women in his past. With that face, that body, that charm, he could have anybody he wanted.
But he nuzzled between her breasts hopelessly, drawing up her jumper at a torturously slow pace as though they had all the time in the world before finally ridding her of it. “Nobody like you. I never want to let you go.”
“Then make sure I don’t,” she said, and realised that she meant it. Usually, she loved feeling in control, but right now, lying in his bed in just her sports bra and thong… She wanted to cede all control to him. Give everything over to him. “Tie me up.”
Surprise, wild desire, and a hint of trepidation danced in Fraser’s eyes. But before he could respond, something behind him stole Harper’s attention, and she gave an awkward laugh. “Please can you distract Bernard? He’s at the door.”
Fraser snapped his head up, snorting at the sight of the dog standing there with one ear cocked. “Jesus. Sorry.” He rushed over, nudging Bernard out into the hall. “Bernard, this is not for your eyes, I’m afraid.”
The door clicked shut, and Bernard’s disgruntled whimper gusted from the hallway.
Fraser returned, both of them chuckling again as he bent over her once more. “He’s not used to me having company.”
The interruption was soon forgotten as Fraser roved her body with his hands and mouth. It was difficult not to respond in kind, but her hands were still cold, and part of her was content to lie back and let him map her body. She relaxed into his mattress, skin throbbing from the lightest of touches.
“I fucking love these curves,” he murmured gruffly, caressing the soft lines of her hips, her waist, the cups of her sports bra. His thumb ghosted across her nipple, and a small keen escaped her. If this was surrendering, maybe she should do it more often. It felt good. Right . “Tell me they’re mine, Harp. Just for tonight, I want all of you to be mine.”
“It’s all yours.” She arched her back, showing him that she meant it. “ I’m yours. What do you want to do to me?”
Wonder and lust melded in his stare again, but he shook his head. “I won’t be doing anything to you. I’ll be doing it for you. Everything for you.” And then, finally, he unhooked her bra, and peeled off his own jumper. She admired his form, dizzy with awe. At the loch, it had all been a blur, but she had time to drink in every stunning inch of him now. His shoulders were sturdy enough to bear anything, but the hard lines of his torso softened beneath his belly button, where a strip of dark hair disappeared into his underwear. His legs were as delicious as she’d imagined, freckled and muscular and adorned here and there with more tattoos.
He looped his belt around her wrists, the brush of the leather leaving her breathless. He tied it just tight enough for her to feel the pressure, then kissed the skin beneath to make sure there was give.
To make sure she still felt safe, she realised.
“Tell me if you don’t like it,” he said. “I’ll take it off.”
“I like it,” she whispered, surprising even herself. She let her legs fall open – she was wet and desperate now.
Her whole body was his to take, but it had never felt so much like hers before, either. Finally, she controlled it, decided whether it was beautiful or not. Her wide thighs only meant more kisses from him as he made his way around her body, only meant she felt more places where his stubble brushed her skin. Her round stomach and large breasts offered more valleys for him to explore. And when he said, “You’re so fucking beautiful, Harp,” with sheer reverence shimmering like moonlight in his glossy eyes, she believed him.
“I want you,” she begged when she could take no more teasing. When he’d removed her underwear, and taken his time working between her nipples and her clit with more confidence than last time, now he knew what she liked.
Fraser stood from the bed, the tautness of his black briefs accentuating his size. She watched him with anticipation as he went to the nightstand, opened the bottom drawer, and pulled out a silver foil.
They were really doing this. Her legs kicked in an eager search for friction. He watched her splayed form hungrily as he returned to the end of the bed. Finally, he took off his briefs and opened the packet with his teeth. A shudder crawled through her body when he sheathed his cock with the condom, her bottom lip tucked away behind nervous teeth.
“You sure?” he questioned.
“I’m sure.”
Once Fraser had buried himself in her, he never wanted to emerge. The way his body sank into hers, it was like he’d been made just for this. Harper released a gasp, fingers clenched in their binding as she wrapped her legs around him and arched her back. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Nothing had ever felt this good before.
He squeezed his eyes closed, twirling one finger around her swollen, pink nipple while the other hand kept her bound wrists pinned to the bed. They squirmed against his belt now: impatient, restless.
“Still okay?” he whispered against her neck.
She nodded frantically, then rocked her hips. “More. No need to be gentle.”
But she’d said he was in charge tonight, so he was taking his time. He pushed into her slowly, luxuriating in her whimpers. Her lips parted with the pleasure of his movements, then more impatience left her rutting against his tip.
“Fraser,” she whispered. Pleaded. He’d never particularly liked his name until now. Until she uttered it like the words of her favourite song.
He thrust into her again, pleasure burning bright inside. He grabbed her hips, angling her so that he could go deeper, quickening his rhythm, so that her keens would turn to moans.
“I want to touch you,” she growled, eyes blazing and wild now.
“You want me to take it off?” he replied, breathless.
But she shook her head, back rising from the mattress as he moved quicker. “Don’t. Don’t stop.”
So he didn’t, because he would give her anything she asked for. His climax felt dangerously close already, but he needed her to come first. He dragged a finger around the slick base of his cock, then up to slide over her clit. “God, I love your perfect pussy. So wet for me. Is this mine, too?”
“Oh, god,” she cried out. “Now. Untie me.”
“You didn’t answer my question, Harp,” he teased, smirking down at her as he slowed his pace, one hand brushing the belt buckle. “Whose. Perfect. Pussy. Is. This?”
“I’ll. Say. It,” she taunted, “when I’m on top.”
He swore, more than willing to comply. She broke free in a frenzy, hands journeying across his chest, his back, his ass, then they landed in his hair, tight and unforgiving.
“This is mine?” she murmured as she nipped at his bottom lip, then again as she closed one of her pretty hands around his neck.
“ All yours.” He rolled onto his back, filling his palms with her perfect thighs as she straddled him.
“Does this still feel okay?” she asked, wide-eyed, lowering herself until she was taking all of him. Okay was an understatement. He felt like the luckiest man on the fucking planet.
“Fuck, yes,” he muttered roughly.
Still looking straight into his eyes, she sought purchase on his chest and began to circle her hips, slowly at first, telling him what she’d promised to and more – saying things that made him gasp in rapturous shock. Then, when he began grazing her most sensitive parts with deliberately light pressure, she dissolved into wordless abandon. God, she was beautiful when she did that. Watching her use him, fuck him, was an image he wanted seared into his brain forever. Wanted it in an oil painting on his fucking wall.
Her head fell back, jerking as a whimper escaped her. “Are you close?”
He’d been close since they’d started, but he could feel the haze creeping over, the pleasure getting tighter. “So close.”
Her answering cry bounced off his ceiling, and he forced his eyes open to watch her fall apart as she clenched around him. They came together, tangled and writhing until at last she fell forwards and melted against his chest.
“Well,” she panted, “that was… liberating.”
“Aye.” He laughed thickly, kissing her forehead. “ Making the most of it really was a very, very good idea.”