Chapter 17 Harrison
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
HARRISON
By the time the elevator reaches my floor, my body feels like a collection of aches held together by caffeine and stubbornness.
Ten days. Ten hotels. Ten nights of wanting her so bad I couldn’t sleep right.
I considered driving straight to her apartment but it’s late and I have a feeling she’s asleep.
Plus, what would I have said if Connor had heard me?
Tomorrow.
I’ll get a good night’s sleep and see her tomorrow.
I enter the lock code and the door clicks open, and everything in me freezes.
The apartment is quiet. Dim and soft just as I left it.
But it’s not empty.
There are shoes by the door that are not mine and a purple jacket on the hook.
A faint scent—vanilla and coconut and whatever shampoo she uses that always makes me want to bury my face in her neck—drifts through the air like an invitation.
My bag drops to the floor with a thud.
“Harper?” I call out softly.
There’s no answer, but there’s a faint glow coming from my bedroom.
Holy shit.
She’s here?
She came?
For me?
I turn and lock the door behind me, toe off my shoes, and then forget everything else. All I want to do is get to her. Not knowing what I’m going to find when I get there, I pad quietly down the hall to my bedroom and when I step inside, my heart actually stutters.
Fuck me.
She’s here.
Curled on her side right in the middle of my bed like she belongs there, Harper is fast asleep, blankets tucked up to her chin, hair spilled over my pillow.
For a second, I’m convinced I’m delirious from the flight.
Like this is some sort of jet-lag hallucination.
But then I see the duffel bag on the chair in the corner.
Laid out across it, draped like she hadn’t finished deciding on it, is some sort of black, lacey, barely-there undergarment.
Lingerie?
She brought lingerie?
Was she going to wear it? For me?
Fuuuuuuck.
I don’t know what kind of dream I am experiencing right now, but hell if I want to ever wake up from it. I lift the lingerie from her bag and hold it up in the air, my breath leaving me in a hard, slow exhale. My God, this is the kind of thing I’ve imagined her in for ten fucking years.
Jesus Christ.
So, she meant it.
She really meant it.
Wait…
If that’s what’s sitting out here…
What is she wearing now?
I move closer to the bed, quietly, reverently, like I’m approaching something fragile and priceless. When I ease back the blanket a few inches I freeze, squeezing my eyes closed.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
This has to be a dream.
She’s wearing one of my Anaheim Stars T-shirts…and nothing else.
My shirt hangs off her shoulder. The hem barely—barely—covers her ass. Her bare legs tangled in my sheets like a dream made solid. And fuck me, I think this might be the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen on a woman in my entire goddamn life.
My voice drops to a whisper before I can stop it.
“Oh, Harp…what are you doing to me?”
I kiss her forehead—just lightly—because if I really touch her, I’m going to wake her up and I need five minutes to pull myself together before she knows I’m here.
I take the fastest shower known to man. Just hot water, a bar of soap, and a prayer I don’t combust before I make it back to the bedroom.
Because yeah, my dick is a fucking steel rod thanks to the sexy woman asleep in my bed.
When I return, she hasn’t moved much. Just shifted enough that one of her thighs is bare where the blanket slipped.
Her breathing is slow, even, and soft. She’s gorgeous when she sleeps.
I watch her for a few silent minutes because good God, she’s breathtakingly beautiful, and then I climb onto the bed carefully, bracing myself above her.
I can’t not touch her.
I’ve been starving for days.
And I have zero self-control.
I start with her shoulder. A soft kiss against her warm skin, then another to her collarbone.
And then I move lower, dragging my mouth down the line of her throat.
She stirs, a slow, sleepy sound emanating from her lips as they part.
Her brows pull together like she’s drifting toward waking but she’s not quite there yet.
I keep kissing her, tasting her, because frankly, I can’t stop and I don’t want to.
I work my way down her chest and across her stomach stopping at the hem of her T-shirt. My T-shirt.
Fuck she’s so sexy like this.
And she’s all mine.
In my bed.
All for me.
I push up the fabric of her shirt with my nose, kissing the warm skin beneath.
“Harrison…?” she murmurs, barely awake, her voice a little husky.
“It’s me, baby,” I whisper against her skin. “I’m here.”
“Missed you.” Her sleepy voice makes me smile so hard my face hurts.
“I missed you too, Harp,” I whisper. “And I can’t stay away from you another second. Where’s Connor?”
“Antoni’s with him.” Her eyes remain closed as if she’s talking in her sleep. Her fingers slide into my hair, tugging gently as her legs fall open for me, slow and trusting.
Mother fuck.
No panties.
“H…”
“Just relax baby,” I whisper as I kiss the inside of her thigh. “I’ve got you.”
Her breath shivers and her muscles soften and then she lets out the quietest, neediest little sigh when my mouth finds her warm, sweet center.
And fuck, it’s everything I thought it would be.
Everything I knew it would be.
Everything I’ve ever wanted.
I groan into her like I’ve been starving for this, because I have.
Ten years.
Ten days.
Ten fucking lifetimes.
I devour her like she’s my favorite meal, lapping at her sweet pussy, slowly, deliberately, savoring every sound she makes as she wakes fully under my mouth.
Her hands in my hair go tight as I circle her clit with my tongue, licking, sucking, flicking.
Her hips arch, and her thighs tremble in my hands.
“H…Harrison,” she breathes, voice breaking. “Oh my god…”
“You taste…” I hold her steady, sliding my hands beneath her ass and pulling her closer, “So, fucking good, Harp.”
I can’t get enough of her. The taste of her on my tongue is a revelation, sweet and perfect.
I focus my attention on her clit, circling it with firm, deliberate pressure.
I glance up the length of her body to see her head thrown back, her lips parted, eyes half-lidded with pleasure and sleep and I smile against her, not stopping my ministrations for a second.
“Best surprise of my life, coming home to find you in my bed, babe. And wearing my shirt…fuck, I’ve dreamed about this,” I murmur against her soft flesh, my tongue circling her clit as she writhes against me.
Every taste of her is addictive, sweeter than I remembered, and I can’t get enough.
“Every night on the road, I thought about having you like this.”“
Her thighs quiver around my head as she fully wakes, her sleepy confusion giving way to carnal gratification. “Harrison,” she gasps, her voice thick with desire. “Oh my god.”
Lifting her slightly to get a better angle, I dip my tongue inside her. She’s so wet, so ready for me, and the knowledge that she came here to surprise me, that she wanted this as badly as I did, makes me groan against her like a man starved.
“That’s it,” I encourage as she rocks against my mouth, her fingers tightening in my hair. “Let me hear you, Harp.”
She lets out a soft, broken moan that sends heat straight to my cock. I’m painfully hard now, straining against the towel around my waist, but I don’t care. All that matters is the way she tastes.
All that matters is that she’s here, with me.
Her back arches beautifully when I slip a finger inside her, curling upward to find that spot that makes her gasp, her body trembling around me.
The sight of her sprawled across my bed, my shirt bunched up around her waist, her head thrown back in ecstasy, it’s better than any fantasy I’ve had on those long, lonely nights.
“You’re so beautiful,” I tell her placing gentle kisses along her inner thigh before returning to her center. “So perfect.”
Her hips buck against my mouth as I circle her clit again, this time with more pressure. I can feel her getting closer, her breathing becoming more erratic, her moans louder.
“H…don’t stop,” she begs, her voice breaking. “Please don’t stop.”
Like I could ever stop tasting her. I’ve been dreaming about this for ten years. Her sweetness on my tongue, the way her thighs quiver around my head, the desperate little sounds she makes when she’s close. I add a second finger, stretching her gently, curling them in rhythm with my tongue.
“That’s my good girl,” I encourage, looking up to see her watching me through heavy-lidded eyes. “Let go for me.”
Her eyes lock with mine, and fuck, her whole body tightens around my fingers. The visual connection between us is enough to make me groan against her clit, the vibration pushing her closer to the edge.
“Harrison,” she gasps, one hand still tangled in my hair, the other clutching desperately at the sheets. “I’m going to—”
I double down, focusing all my attention on her pleasure, but taking my time sucking her clit between my lips as I curl my fingers inside her.
That’s all it takes for her to shatter beneath me, crying out my name as her body convulses.
I don’t let up, working her through every wave of pleasure until she’s trembling and pulling weakly at my hair.
“Too much,” she whispers, her voice ragged and breathless. “Too sensitive.”
I ease off, placing gentle kisses on her inner thighs as she comes down from her high. Her chest rises and falls rapidly, my shirt still bunched up around her waist. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.
“Welcome home,” she says with a lazy smile, her eyes half-closed and satisfied.