38. The Dogs Are Settled
THIRTY-EIGHT
The Dogs Are Settled
Harry
L illian had already found hers.
In fact, her sleek, tight cunt rippling around his dick with her orgasm milked his to fruition, he buried himself deep, shot into the condom and groaned into her neck.
She clutched him tight with her arms and legs, considering he was fucking her against the wall of her bedroom, sweaty from the sex and the run from which he’d just returned.
So the seal being broken meant he couldn’t even look into her cute drowsy eyes and take in her mass of messy bedhead hair and not fuck her against the wall.
Jesus.
In fact, the last three days had been a fuck fest.
Mornings, either when he woke, or she woke, or this time after he got back from his run. Evenings, she jumped him the minute he walked through the door. Always again before sleep. And once, she’d woken him up in the middle of the night with her hands moving on him.
Fortunately, she loved it and egged him on, and he loved it and did the same.
But now, he was dripping with sweat.
He still didn’t move.
He simply held her, as she held him, another habit they’d formed after sex.
He understood why it happened.
They both knew when you found something special, you held on.
Unfortunately, they both had busy days, so they couldn’t do it forever.
“You good?” he whispered against her skin.
“Awesome,” she did not whisper.
He smiled, pulled her off his dick and held her as he set her on her feet, and he kept doing it until he knew she was steady.
She looked up at him and there was no drowsiness in her eyes.
They were sated, happy, bright and sexy with what they’d just shared.
And yeah.
He wanted to fuck her again.
Another yeah.
He found something really fucking special.
“I’ll get your coffee ready while you shower,” she said.
“You don’t have to make me coffee every day, honey,” he told her.
“I wouldn’t do it if I had to,” she replied.
With no reason to discuss it further, he gave her another smile, a kiss, then he moved away, pulling his joggers up over his dick (he’d only yanked them down in front in order to put on a condom and drill her—totally, they’d broken the seal).
They headed out.
She went to the kitchen.
He went to the bathroom.
Not long later, he came out carrying his boots but otherwise fully dressed, to see her, also fully dressed for their trip to Aromacobana, which would come after he made himself a smoothie or some oatmeal.
She was at the kitchen table with her laptop, a mug of coffee, and Lucy and Smokey crashed out around her chair. Linus was snoozing in his bed.
This was when Harry instigated another ritual they’d made.
He went right to her. She tipped her head back to get his touch on the lips.
He then went to the Nespresso to grab his readied mug.
He set his oatmeal up and put it in the microwave, then rested his hips against the counter and took a sip of coffee.
And since the weekend was now around the corner, he asked, “What does Halloween decorating mean to you?”
She tossed him a grin. “Just some corn stalks, pumpkins, and about a hundred bats flying across the front of the house.”
“A hundred?” he teased.
“Okay, more like seventy-five.”
He chuckled.
The microwave binged.
He grabbed a spoon, his bowl, and he took them and his mug to the table, sitting catty-corner to her.
Lucy adjusted so she had her head on his foot.
He stirred his oatmeal and got into what he didn’t want to get into.
But he had to.
“We need to talk about where we’re at.”
Her startled eyes came to him.
“Where we’re at?” she asked.
Harry went carefully. “Dad’s at the house. The new windows are in, the cameras have been installed. It isn’t that.”
He knew she understood where he was going when her expression changed.
She didn’t seem panicked.
She seemed upset.
Even so, he asked, “Are you good with me going home?”
“Do you want to go home?” she returned.
“That isn’t an answer to my question,” he replied gently.
“I didn’t think—” She looked away.
“You didn’t think what?” he pressed.
“I thought…” She didn’t finish that either.
“You thought what, Lilly?” he asked softly.
She took a breath then returned to him. “The dogs are settled here.”
For a second, Harry didn’t move.
Then he busted out laughing.
“Harry.” He could tell by the snap in her voice, she didn’t think anything was funny.
With effort, he got control of himself and stirred his oatmeal, saying, “So I’m not going home.”
“Maybe you can go home when your dad heads back to Phoenix,” she suggested.
He was so not ever going home.
Because he was home.
With Lilly.
Wherever that would be.
“Maybe,” he muttered, still smiling and shoving oatmeal in his mouth.
“Anyway, you’re busy with important work, so you don’t need to be driving all the way out there and back. You need the extra time to solve cases and keep the peace in Misted Pines,” she declared.
He chuckled around a mouth full of oatmeal but said nothing.
Sure, the extra twenty to thirty minutes worked for him in a big way.
But she wasn’t fooling anybody.
“I’m going to need to do laundry, or you’re going to have to free up more than just a drawer,” he said.
“You’re welcome to use my machines but bring more stuff anyway. Laundry is a drag.”
Harry was so not going home.
He kept smiling.
Lillian kept sipping.
It took her a bit before she said shyly, “I thought we’d decided.”
“We did, honey,” he replied. “I just thought, with this so new, you might want some space for a while.”
“I’ve had space. I’m good,” she told him.
He gave her a soft smile, and she returned the same.
Harry went back to his oatmeal.
Eventually, he took his bowl to the sink, rinsed it, put it in the dishwasher, downed the last of his coffee and put the mug in the dishwasher along with the one Lillian handed him.
He put on his boots. She put on her Adidas. They added the element that had now become another habit since Harry knew the dogs would behave for her, and they put on their leashes.
And then they officially started their day.
That being Harry, Lillian and their pups heading to Aromacobana.