32. Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Two
Harry
I walk into the bathroom to let her know our car will be here shortly, but I’m stopped in my tracks in the doorway. She’s standing in front of the bathroom vanity, applying a soft pink lipstick. Wearing a long black satin dress with thin straps, her hair is pinned up in some fancy bun, showcasing her slender neck, she looks stunning. I have to stop myself bending her over the vanity and fucking her so I can watch her come apart in the mirror. I lean my hip against the door frame, eyeing her up and down, taking in every inch of her. She truly is perfect.
“Can I help you?” she says in that sarcastic tone I’ve come to love.
“Yeah, you can actually. I’ve got something right here that you can rub over those gorgeous lips of yours.”
She spins on her heels to face me, and I scan her face. High cheek bones, plump lips and those big icy blue eyes that make me lose my damn mind.
“Really? Didn’t the blow job I gave you an hour ago do?”
“Oh, it did.” The image of Ali on her knees, my cock in her mouth flashes through my brain and I grin, “I’m just greedy.”
“Don’t I know it,” she says, pressing a soft kiss to my lips, and I love that she will kiss me so freely now. We have slipped into this comfortable relationship where we act like a couple and it’s going to hurt like hell when she leaves tomorrow.
She pulls away, but I grab the back of her neck, pulling her back and deepen the kiss. She parts her plump lips, inviting my tongue in her mouth and she moans in that sexy way that’s like a direct line to my cock, waking him up to join the party. I back her up against the vanity, running my hand up the satin fabric and, to my surprise, I feel her bare skin. The dress has a slit up the side, right up to her thigh, and I groan against her lips. “This is fucking sexy. I want to rip it right off you, but we have a car waiting.”
I reluctantly pull back and rub my thumb against the side of her mouth, removing the smudge of lipstick I caused.
“You look pretty damn fine tonight in that tux.” Her eyes travel to my suit jacket, and she lifts a perfectly manicured nail and traces over my medals that sit on the left side. As a veteran, I now wear my medals for special occasions and tonight I’ll be remembering a very special someone, and having them pinned to my chest, makes me feel like I have a part of him with me.
She touches one. “I got that one in Iraq.”
“And this one?” she asks, brushing her finger over the multicolored ribbon.
“That was Afghanistan, my, um, last tour.” She traces over the engraved dates and slowly lifts her eyes to mine, placing her hands either side of my face and dusting the pads of her thumbs across my cheeks, pressing a chase kiss to my lips.
“A real-life hero.” It’s said with such sincerity, emotions I try to keep tucked away, suddenly rise to the surface. I never considered myself a hero. I did the job I was trained to do, and that was that. After what happened with Scotty, I felt far from a hero. Not a day goes by where I don’t wonder if that day could have played out differently. What if I had looked up a few seconds sooner? What If I had reacted just a few seconds faster? So many what ifs. My heart starts to race in that unwanted way, like it’s overheating and ready to burst through my chest.
She turns, facing the mirror, reaching for her lipstick and reapplies. Needing to redirect my thoughts, I reach in my pocket, pull out a small blue Tiffany box, and place it on the vanity. She stills, her eyes zoned in on the box, and then she looks back up at me in the reflection
“What’s that?” she asks, her voice barely a whisper.
“Open it.”
She carefully untying the white satin bow on the box and lifts the lid. Her hand flies to her mouth as she looks inside. “Harry, this is…”
“Here, let me put it on.” I take the box from her hand and pull out the heart pendant necklace that I had engraved with an A.
I place it around her delicate neck and hook the clasp. She places a hand over the pendant and turns to face me. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”
With a glint in my eye, I say, “Turn it over.” She looks puzzled, brows furrowing. She turns over the heart pendant and gasps when she sees the letter H engraved on the other side.
“Harry, you… I…”
“I told you I’d have you wearing my initial round your neck,” I tease. But she just stares at it, rubbing her thumb over the engraving, saying nothing.
“Do you not like it?”
Her head springs up. “I love it, thank you. It’s just, a lot.”
I know what she means. This is more than what we agreed to, but when she was out today with my mum and sister, all I kept thinking about was her, and how I wanted to get her something to show her that she means more to me than a fuck buddy. I know this is far more than what we both agreed to, but I know I can’t say goodbye to her tomorrow and that be the end of us. Too much has happened between us now for that to happen.
“Come on, Ali Cat, humor me. For just one night, wear my necklace and be my girl.”