Chapter 22
22
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H arper’s palms press into my chest, gentle but firm, guiding me onto my back against the welcoming warmth of the rug. My heart pounds like a drumbeat beneath her fingertips, each uneven thud echoing deep inside my chest, awakening places that have been dormant for far too long.
She hovers above me, her hair cascading down her bare shoulders, eyes luminous and locked on to mine. In that silent moment, vulnerability pulses between us. It’s a language that I haven’t allowed myself to speak in so long that I nearly choke on the intensity of this. My defenses are stripped away, and Harper leaves me with nothing but raw need for her. It’s an aching, primal, and I need her more than I need air.
Slowly, she sinks down onto me, inch by torturous inch, and she takes control until all of me is buried deep inside her. She doesn’t move, allowing her body to adjust to me. The sensation of being with her like this is nearly blinding. A sharp breath tears from my chest as pleasure and emotion intertwine, blending into a single feeling that nearly undoes me.
Harper moves slowly at first, her hips rolling delicately. My fingers grip her hips, enjoying how she perfectly fits me, as if she were shaped for me alone.
My throat tightens. I’m overwhelmed by how long it’s been since I allowed myself to feel anything even remotely close to this. But even now, it’s deeper, more intense than anything I’ve ever experienced. With Harper, it’s not just physical in how our bodies connect, but emotional, almost spiritual. I want to worship her as I get lost in her gaze. She sees every scar I carry, but she still looks at me like I’m something precious, like I’m something worth protecting, something she wants.
My breath hitches as she slides up and down me; every shift of her body rips control from my grasp. Pleasure builds uncontrollably, but I fight it back, desperate to savor every second with her. This is the first time of many, and it’s something I never want to forget.
“Harp,” I rasp, my voice hoarse. The rough edges of my buried emotions scratch my throat, and I can’t put into words how fucking good this feels to finally cross the line we’ve been teetering on for years. My fingers guide up her body, so fucking desperate to memorize the silkiness of her skin, the curve of her waist, and the heat radiating between us.
She leans forward, her lips ghosting over mine, her breath trembling against my mouth. “I belong to you, Brody.”
The confession rips through me, powerful enough to shatter any lingering barriers I foolishly believed I could keep. I place a hand around the back of her neck, guiding her lips down to mine, desperate to kiss her—to imprint myself into her, to promise without words everything I feel but can’t articulate. She’s stolen my heart.
I cup her face, meeting her eyes with intensity. “I’m yours too,” I confirm, admitting a truth I’ve held on to for far too long. “For as long as you want.”
Her eyes glisten, filled with wonder, trust, and something deeper, something unspoken that grips my heart so tightly that it’s almost painful. Forever.
Her hips begin moving again, finding a rhythm that destroys any rational thoughts I had. I groan out, gripping her tighter, losing myself in the intoxicating trust she’s always reserved for me.
I’m so far gone, every wall I’ve built collapsing beneath the weight of what she makes me feel. It’s terrifying, exhilarating, and undeniable. I’ve guarded myself for years, denied myself even the hope of feeling like this again. But right now, with Harper, every fear fades into insignificance, drowned beneath this intimacy.
My fingers trace over her skin, and I commit every curve, every breathless whimper to memory. Her soft gasps and moans surround me, drawing me deeper into her depths. I’m drowning in her, in every stroke of our bodies. The way she makes me feel only reinforces the unspoken truths that are screaming in my head. I need her. Not just for tonight, but until my last breath. Harper is my person, my other half, and it scares the fuck out of me. It always has. But I’m willing to accept it now.
I let go completely, fully surrendering to this gorgeous woman, to the wild beauty of this moment, to a future I stopped believing was possible. Her eyes flutter closed, her head tilting back as I guide her faster, deeper, until we’re both clinging desperately to each other, breathing erratically and in sync, moving as one, racing to the end.
As she cries out, she shudders around me, squeezing me so fucking tight that I forget my name. My release tears through me, and it’s powerful enough to blur my vision. My breath catches, my eyes sting, and my heart is exposed like never before.
A whispered promise pour from my lips without hesitation. “You’re mine, Harp.”
She leans down, her mouth brushing against my lips, and she whispers back to me, “Always.”
And just like that, with one simple truth, my world reshapes itself entirely around her, around us, around this. It feels like space and time have ripped open as the intensity of these truths fully consumes me.
After we lose control, she collapses onto my chest, as if every last ounce of energy has left her body and only my arms can hold her steady. I wrap myself around her, pulling her closer, feeling the rapid beat of her heart against the erratic beat of mine as we stay joined together.
Time slows around us, and I hold her, never wanting to let go. She’s breathless as my hands trace lazy circles down her back. We stay suspended in this haze, clinging to the moment that consumed us. I don’t feel like the same man I was before, and I know there is no going back from this.
The cabin is silent, except for our breathing and the crackle of the fire. Harper’s heartbeat slows against my chest, and I hold on to her like I’m afraid reality might shatter this moment. I close my eyes, memorizing everything—the smell of her skin, the weight of her body pressed against mine, the sigh of contentment she releases against my neck.
She shifts, lifting her head just enough for her gaze to meet mine. Her hooded eyes are bright, shining just for me. Reaching up, I brush back a loose strand of hair from her cheek, my thumb rubbing across the flushed softness of her skin.
“You okay?” I ask, suddenly unsure. “Did I?—”
She quickly presses a finger to my lips. “I’m perfect,” she whispers. “You were perfect.”
A relieved smile touches my lips, and it eases the knot of anxiety I didn’t even realize had formed. “It’s been … a while,” I admit carefully, studying her face closely. “I wasn’t sure?—”
“I know,” she interrupts, her fingers trailing down my jaw, her touch featherlight, brushing away all my doubts. “You made me see stars.”
My heart pounds hard in response to her confession.
“I hope you made a wish.” I give her a grin, resting one arm behind my head.
“Oh, I did. I’ve been searching my entire life for this. For you. Exactly how you are,” she tells me.
I don’t think anyone has ever seen me this clearly, this honestly—without judgment, without expectation. I’ve been living behind walls for so long, wearing a thick armor I thought was impenetrable. But somehow, Harper slipped through every barrier I’d made like they never existed.
She studies me, eyes traveling slowly over my face, and a smile forms as she memorizes me, just like I did with her moments ago. Her gaze trails over my tattoos, fingertips carefully following the inked lines. Tingles spread under her touch, each careful stroke peeling away layers of my past, revealing parts of myself that were always reserved for her.
“Do these all have stories?” she asks, looking up at me with curiosity.
“Some of them,” I admit, following her gaze to the ink on my arm. “Some are memories, some reminders. And some …” I pause, choosing my words carefully. “Some are things I thought I’d lost forever.”
Her eyes lift slowly, and they’re full of understanding. She leans closer, pressing a kiss against my collarbone, lingering there for a long, quiet moment. “You deserve happiness, Brody. You deserve to hold on to good things.”
Harper doesn’t just see me; she sees through me—straight into the hidden places I’ve protected from the outside world. The realization is both terrifying and exhilarating because I know I can never escape her. I don’t want to.
“I’m actively working on that,” I whisper, sliding my hand up her back.
Her eyes are serious as she presses her palm over my heart. “I’m not going anywhere.”
She read between the lines; of course she did.
I cup her face, guiding her eyes firmly to mine, needing her to hear my words. “I’m not either. I will always protect you. I will always keep you safe.”
The promise hangs between us, solidifying the bond already tightening around us, cuffing us together. Harper nods, accepting my truth without hesitation, and I feel immediate relief, knowing that’s exactly what she wants.
She feels the same, and I want to scream it from the rooftops.
Harper settles her head back against my chest, drawing circles over my skin. I breathe in the scent of her hair, feeling my heart pound steadily beneath her fingertips.
After a long moment, she whispers, “Real-life you is way better than fantasy you.” Her voice is a blend of playfulness and sleepy satisfaction.
I chuckle, the rumble vibrating through my chest. “Good to know fantasy me takes the back seat.”
She tilts her head slightly, peeking up at me with a mischievous look in her eyes. Her smile is playful in a way that’s uniquely Harper. “We can do this again, right?”
“Fuck yes.” Laughter falls out of me, and happiness chases away shadows that have lingered for too long.
She chuckles, and the sound is music to my ears. “Great. So, should I apologize for keeping you really busy now or later?”
I tilt her chin upward, painting my lips across hers.
“Already addicted, huh?” I whisper against her mouth, feeling her smile.
“Yes,” she admits.
“Me too.”
Harper stands, and we clean ourselves up, then lie on the couch naked. As I hold her, I run my fingers through her hair, and she moves closer. Her breathing slows as sleep threatens to claim her. As I drift toward sleep, surrounded by Harper’s warmth, I promise myself that I’ll always hold on to the good things, to Harper, no matter what it takes.
Her breathing evens out against my chest, and her body relaxes. I carefully shift beneath her, scooping her up as I rise from the cushions. She stirs slightly, mumbling something unintelligible about floating. Her eyes flutter briefly before settling closed again.
“I’ve got you,” I whisper, pressing a kiss against her forehead as I carry her toward the bedroom.
“My hero.” Her arms tighten around my neck, and it’s the simple trust she has for me—that she’s always had—that nearly undoes me.
I set her onto the mattress, sliding the covers over her before joining her.
She snuggles into me. Our bodies mold perfectly together, and we’re the best big and little spoon on the planet.
The tension I’ve always carried melts away, replaced by bone-deep relief that love exists for me. The emptiness is exchanged with Harper, and right now my heart is overflowing with hope, with something strong enough to silence my loudest fears.
I brush my lips against her hair as my arm snakes around her waist, breathing in the sweet smell of her skin as I close my eyes.
Tonight, nothing can touch us, and I let myself believe that I deserve every ounce of happiness Harper brings into my life. Nothing else matters but this.
* * *
I wake to Harper’s body draped across mine. The faint scent of her skin fills my senses, and I cherish it. I replay every moment from last night, every whispered confession we made. It wasn’t a dream. It happened.
Harper releases a sigh as she holds me closer. My breath catches as I study her plump lips and her long eyelashes. It’s as if she’s always belonged here with me, as though the jagged pieces of my life are finally smoothing around her.
I didn’t realize just how much I’d craved her and how monumental it would be to share this kind of intimacy until now. Harper didn’t give up on me and showed me that falling in love was possible again.
Her eyelids flutter open, blue-gray eyes lifting to meet mine. She gives me a sweet but shy smile.
“Morning,” she whispers.
“Morning,” I say back, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face, enjoying how pretty she is when she wakes up. “Sleep okay?”
“Better than okay.” She stretches, the slow arch of her back pressing her body even closer to mine. “The best.”
I chuckle. “Great. If you could leave a review …”
“Five out of five stars. Absolutely recommend.” Her fingers trail along my skin, brushing over the tattoos etched permanently on my arm, tracing each one like it’s a story she’s determined to know by heart.
I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get enough of these quiet mornings with her.
“Did you imagine this was possible?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. Her eyes search mine. “Us?”
I thread my fingers with hers, holding our joined hands close against my chest, right above the steady rhythm of my heart.
“Only in my dreams,” I admit, the confession slipping from my lips with ease. I feel raw and exposed, but I push forward, wanting to share the parts of myself that I hide from the world with her. “Even when I knew I shouldn’t.”
She tilts her head curiously. “Why shouldn’t you?”
I hesitate, sorting carefully through my fears before finally giving voice to the one that’s held me back the longest. “Because losing you—losing this —would be the one thing I don’t think I could survive.”
She leans forward, pressing a kiss against my chest, her lips lingering over my heart. When she lifts her head again, her eyes shimmer with certainty. “I’m not going anywhere, Brody. You don’t have to carry that burden anymore.”
Something inside my chest loosens, relief flooding through me in a powerful wave, washing away the last shadowed fragments of my doubts. I reach up, brushing my thumb across her cheek.
“Promise me,” I whisper, my voice full of emotion.
“I promise,” she breathes without hesitation. “I’m right here, and I’m not letting go. Ever.”
I catch her lips with mine, pouring every ounce of trust, longing, and affection into it. She sighs against my mouth, deepening the kiss, melting willingly into my arms as our tongues lightly twist together. When we break apart, our breath mingles in unison.
Harper whispers, her voice wavering with emotion, “Thank you for letting me see you. Really see you. You’ve always kept everything so hidden. But this feels different. Like you trust me.”
I cradle her face, studying her. “I do trust you, Harp,” I admit. “More than I’ve ever trusted anyone.”
Her eyes sparkle with admiration, and it nearly undoes me. She leans forward, brushing another soft kiss over my lips, as if she’s trying to seal my words with a stamp of approval. The intimacy of that moment—the promise of something deeper—settles into my bones, weaving itself into the very fabric of who I am.
We linger, savoring this new sense of trust, comfort, and connection that was forged in the fire of our past. Harper’s breath is warm against my skin. My arms tighten around her protectively, and we fall into a comfortable silence, wrapped securely in each other’s arms.
She’s the kind of partner I’ve always needed, even if I’m not quite ready to put words to that feeling yet. Harper drifts off again, and I enjoy the way her presence calms every anxious thought that used to haunt me.
My fingertips trace slow patterns along her body as I memorize the delicate slope of her back, the smoothness of her skin, and the rhythm of her heart beating against mine. Time slows and stretches lazily around us.
This is the life.
Outside, the rain has finally stopped, leaving a peaceful stillness, only punctuated by the occasional dripping of water from the trees onto the cabin’s metal roof. It feels surreal to be here, holding Harper like this, and I’m at peace.
Eventually, my phone vibrates on the nightstand, jolting me back to the present. I reach for it, glancing at the screen while trying not to disturb Harper.
Nick is calling me.
Carefully, I untangle myself from her and slide out of bed. She grumbles, and I pause, brushing my lips over her forehead.
“I’ll be right back,” I say.
Her brow smooths again as she slips back into sleep.
I tug on a pair of boxers and step into the hallway, closing the bedroom door behind me before answering.
“Calloway,” I say.
There’s a brief pause before he responds, voice unusually tense. “Brody. Sorry to interrupt your … break, but we’ve got a major problem.”
Tension stretches across my shoulders, and I straighten as I move into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. “Explain.”
“Micah Rhodes.” The name lands heavy, and Nick’s voice is tight with frustration. “Billie’s post didn’t exactly have the effect we’d hoped. The public’s torn. Last night, there was a shitstorm of posts, mostly lies, as Micah crashed out. A lot of them think Micah’s the victim. He went live on Instagram, hysterical, threatening legal action against Bellamore. And now they’ve got paparazzi swarming headquarters and digging around, trying to find Harper.”
“Fuck,” I whisper.
“That’s not all,” he says. “There was a picture of you two that was shared. You were kissing in the rain. Like, real fucking romantic, Brod, but not the look Harp needed, and people are trying to figure out your location.”
I exhale, pinching the bridge of my nose.
“Micah is furious. Commenters have stated different places where they think you are.” Nick hesitates briefly, concern clear in his voice. “He also released a statement this morning, accusing Harper of cheating while pregnant and painting himself as the wounded fiancé. After that pic got leaked, it’s working. Relationship scandals are a PR nightmare. Oh, there is one more rumor, that the baby is actually yours.”
My jaw clenches as a sudden wave of anger boils beneath my skin. “I’m going to fucking kill him.”
“No, you’re not.” Nick’s voice softens slightly, a rare moment of emotion breaking through. “Billie and Asher are working overtime to do damage control. But you both need to be ready to leave soon. It will get worse before it gets better.”
I close my eyes as I lean against the counter, and Harper’s peaceful face flashes through my mind.
“I won’t let him hurt her,” I tell him.
He releases a relieved breath, as though those words were exactly what he needed to hear. “I know you won’t. And we’re here too—Zane, Asher, Easton, Weston—all of us. But watch your back, Brody. Rhodes doesn’t play fair.”
“Neither do I,” I confirm with more gruffness in my tone than I intended.
“Good.” Nick pauses briefly, and then his tone shifts, becoming cautiously curious. “How’s she doing?”
My chest warms at the memory of Harper tangled in my arms, her sleepy smile, her whispered promises. “She’s good. Better than good.”
“Love to hear it,” he says. “I’m sure Zane already gave you the lecture, but if you fucking hurt my sister?—”
“Stepsister,” I correct him.
“I’ll fuck you up,” he finishes.
“I hope you would.”
He chuckles. “Tell her I’m glad she has you. We all are.”
“I will.” I smile, knowing I have everyone’s support with this relationship, but I’m determined to take things slow.
“Keep me posted,” Nick says finally, tension lingering beneath his tone. “And stay safe.”
I hang up, turning my gaze to the hallway. The weight of this news settles heavily in my chest, and the brief peace of the morning is overshadowed by our harsh reality.
Micah Rhodes is ruthless, dangerous, and desperate, and I know he won’t stop until he finds Harper.
I push down the surge of anger and frustration and let determination take its place. I won’t let him win.
He won’t touch Harper again—no matter what it takes, no matter what it costs.
I step back into the bedroom, easing silently onto the bed.
Harper shifts, reaching for me, and I move close. My chest eases when she settles against me; her presence grounds me, as usual.
“Everything okay?” she mutters.
“It will be,” I whisper, pressing a light kiss into her hair, holding her tighter. I close my eyes, breathing her in.
“Mmm. You’re a dream come true,” she whispers with a happy sigh.
“You are too.” I kiss her forehead, knowing things are about to change.