Chapter 11
STONE
We’re sitting at the Dizzy Duck Inn for brunch in the restaurant, partly due to the fact that we skipped the breakfast hour and slept in. Having her long hair splayed against one of my pillows is a fantasy that any guy would dream of, yet I get to live it.
We sit by the big bay window to overlook the lake that is partly frozen with the cloudy sky in the backdrop. We’re taking it easy and not rushing the morning.
“What?” She’s near bashful. “Why do you keep staring at me?”
“You have a glow,” I state bluntly. “It’s good that you ordered more than toast for breakfast, you seem a little exhausted.” A half-smirk hits the corner of my mouth.
She smiles. “That would be for a good reason. And don’t criticize my breakfast choices.
Toast is an important start of the day, but it has to be just soft enough to ensure your knife doesn’t make the scraping noise.
Halfway between not toasted and half crunchy.
The butter will melt better that way, then a thin layer of jam, preferably strawberry or apricot, is the finishing factor. ”
I laugh. “Wow. I didn’t realize there is an art to toast and that Harlow Olive treats it like a sport. No wonder you have a hate for frozen bread.”
“It ruins the toasting process,” she retorts.
The waiter arrives to leave us with Harlow’s toast and a basket of breads and croissants then quickly scurries off.
“Right on time,” I say. She quickly grabs the croissant, and I feign shock. “You’re cheating on your toast?”
Harlow grins. “We should probably exit this ridiculous discussion on carbs.”
A teenager enters the dining room with his parents and gives me a wave and seems excited.
Harlow quickly looks over her shoulder after I wave back. “Who’s that?”
“I don’t remember his name, but he was at a hockey weekend for the local prep school’s hockey team not too long ago,” I explain.
“You help with kids’ hockey?” She seems surprised.
I pick up my cup of coffee and take a quick sip before I answer. “I volunteer, yeah. Next summer, I’ll help with the development camp here at the Spinners training facility for rookies and also the camp for inner-city kids.”
Harlow’s jaw drops a little, and she brings a hand to her heart. “Swoon.”
I chuckle at her response. “Wasn’t expecting that?”
“You never mentioned.”
“I guess not. Probably because we’re still getting to know one another. We’ve only seen each other a handful of times.”
Her eyes dip down to the tablecloth, and she grows silent as she seems to be occupied with a thought, and her lips tuck into her mouth. Now she seems different. I study her, but honestly, I have no clue where her head is at.
“About that.” Her eyes drift up so our eyes can lock again. “I kind of… hmm, you see…” Harlow can’t seem to bring her words together.
“Yes?” I draw it out as I wait patiently, which is why I grab my coffee cup again.
“Last night was great.”
“Way above average,” I correct her, and it earns me a smile that she’s pleased.
“You don’t need to treat me like a delicate flower.”
Hmm, not sure where we’re going with this, but I will take a wild guess and tread carefully. I scan the room, and it’s only half occupied with people; still, I lean in, as Harlow is sitting beside me at the square table.
Lowering my voice, I manage to figure out what to tell her. “Harlow, I think, considering the circumstances, it was better that your fir—” God damn it, I shouldn’t say that. “It was just better that you were in control, okay?”
“Maybe, but also not. The thing is, I know you’re keeping your…” This time she checks the room. “Inner inhibitions locked down.” Her voice is uneven.
I snicker, and my eyes widen, but I can’t help but smirk. “You want to talk about our sexual desires at 11am in the very public restaurant of the Dizzy Duck Inn?” I can’t help but tease her.
She carefully tucks her hair behind her ear, and it brings my attention to her fingers that I want to tug away from her head to interlace with my own; instead, I grab my orange juice and sit back and enjoy whatever direction this conversation could be going in.
“I’ve overcome the mountain, so you’re free to be as dominant as you want.” She strings her words together at record speed.
I nearly choke on the sip of juice that I just took. Harlow should be proud that she’s caught me slightly off guard.
Setting my glass back on the table, I readjust my body then grab the arm of Harlow’s chair and yank her closer to me so she’s nearly sitting by the corner of the table.
“Why would you think I want to dominate the fuck out of you?” I recognize the heat in my voice because she’s cracking that box of want that I’ve been keeping locked lately.
The kind of want where I demand she opens her legs while I pin her arms over her head.
I lead the way, and she obeys. Flip her, slide into her, nibble her skin, and spank her.
That’s the Pandora’s box that she’s telling me to open.
My eyes, I can imagine, are forming a gleam full of warning.
A sexy smile ghosts her mouth. “Because of the way your hands hold my hips, the way you pistol your way inside of me, going hard, but then the moment you realize, you slow down because it’s me.
More importantly, when I first met you, well, you had this devilish appearance.
I don’t think I’ve contorted an unrealistic image in my head. ”
My cock twitches at her words.
I bring a hand across my jaw. “And if I say it’s true?” I challenge.
She scoffs a gentle breath. “Then I’d answer to do it.
I want to… do it all, because for some reason you dropped into my life, and it feels as though the chemistry is uncontrollable, and I just…
you lead the way tonight. I enjoyed last night, and it was special in a way that not many people will understand.
” She touches my elbow, and I swallow because that box is now partly open. “You’re in control now.”
Her eyes haven’t blinked once, and I can tell that she’s dead serious.
I click my tongue on the top of my mouth as I consider my next move.
But my body moves of its own accord, and my hand slips under the table to quickly find her knee.
Our eyes lock, and my fingers begin to trail up her leggings because this woman slays in a long sweater over a thin fabric that’s doing a half-ass job of warming her legs.
Her breath hitches slightly because she doesn’t anticipate that my fingers slide straight up to the middle of her thighs, and I feel her warmth.
I bring my lips closer to her ear. “Harlow, you need to be 100% sure, because sometimes I can be gentle, but sometimes, so help me, I want to be demanding as hell until we make one another come not just once during the night or day, and you best believe I have no problem taking you behind a tree or on a beach. As much as you’re free, I want to shackle you down, and I’m beginning to think it’s because you drive me so damn crazy and should be punished for that. ”
Harlow’s eyes blaze and her mouth opens, her cheeks rising, which tells me that she’s satisfied with everything I say.
I give her no opportunity to answer, and instead, I circle a finger around her pussy, not caring that it’s covered. My head lolls slightly to the side. “My guess is that you’re soaked, because you feel damp. Is that what you are?”
She nods slowly.
“Words.”
“I’m soaked,” she confirms as she nibbles on her bottom lip.
I kiss her cheek. To anyone in here it would look innocent and sweet, but inside me it’s sweltering a desire to ignore everyone in here and take Harlow right here on the table from behind.
Squeezing her thigh, I wish I could make her come right now, but I see our waiter walking toward us, which is why my hand returns to her knee, and I throw on an overdone smile and straighten my back to welcome our interrupter.
“Eggs Benedict with a side of bacon for the sir.” A sound escapes from Harlow because she has a dirty mind, and our dear clueless twenty-year-old waiter has no clue that his choice of title means something else.
The waiter’s face turns partly puzzled before he sets down the other plate with a returned smile. “The Belgian waffle with fruit and crème br?lée topping. Enjoy, you two.”
The moment he turns his back, I bug my eyes out at Harlow. “Trust me, I hate the word sir.”
Her face flushes before she sighs and creates space between us by scooting her chair back into place, causing my hand to fall from her knee.
“Okay, so… you agree with my request?”
I stare at her for a second more than I should, my gaze turning to sweltering and determined.
“It’s not a request that you made, it was a plea.
” She gently shakes her head, thinking I’m joking.
But my face remains serious. “It was. I much prefer begging, though. Tonight, Harlow, if you’re sure—because seriously, you’re unleashing a side of me that’s a bit heated—then yes, you will have your hands firmly planted against a surface while I fuck you from behind. ”
“I am sure. Sometimes unleashing something only brings more passion.” She states it so simply.
But my mind meanders to the underlying meaning. Because normally, it’s a few-days fling or a mutually beneficial situation. In this case, this is a longer commitment because I don’t see this thing between us ending anytime soon, nor do I seem to mind.
She’s giving me permission. I was beginning to fear that I would have to compromise when it came to us, in the bedroom at least. Now she’s erased that boundary, which means there are no boxes unchecked except for that not-so-little factor of distance and unclarity of what the hell we are.
Nonetheless, our possibilities are now a little more endless.
“Tonight then. Now eat your waffle before it gets cold,” I say casually.
I’m a hot-blooded man who has every intention of fulfilling her begging request, because I’m relieved to be crossing a threshold to a world where the door has been closed for a while.
Now I’m just wondering what I’m unleashing.