All In Vegas

19. Chapter 19

Grayson

“Yeah, I know, Mom. We’ve gotta get settled in and get back to work and stuff, but we’ll plan a visit soon.”

She scoffs. “Plan a visit soon. You all didn’t even let us see you get married, and now you’re not even coming to visit until who knows when.”

I roll my eyes. “Mom. We just got back from our honeymoon. Give us a bit, okay?”

“Just got back from your wedding too,” she grumbles. “Annette and I were thinking about doing a reception for you guys. Do you think that would be okay?”

My heart stutters. “Let me talk to Harlow about it first.”

I can practically hear her eye roll. “Alright, fine.”

“I love you, Mom.” Tires crunch on the gravel, catching my attention. “Hey, Harlow just got home. I’ve gotta go.”

Mom sighs. “I love you too. Tell Harlow I love him as well.”

“Will do. Bye, Mom.”

Hanging up the phone, I jump to my feet.

The thing is, I’ve been an anxious wreck since Harlow left. I know it’s stupid, but I started thinking about the possibility that Josh might be trying to win Harlow back.

I don’t think Harlow would take him back, but what the fuck do I even know? And then I got a little relief in knowing that in order to do that, Harlow would have to divorce me, and then I felt like shit about it.

It’s a real fun time in my brain right now.

When he climbs out of his car, I get my ass in gear and walk outside. “Hey!” I call out. “Everything go okay?”

He flashes me a blinding smile. “Great.”

Without another word, he opens the back door and starts pulling bags out.

What does that mean? What does great mean? Does it mean they reconciled? Doubtful. Harlow wouldn’t be unloading things from his car if they did. At least, I don’t think he would be.

It seems like that would be counterproductive.

Stepping off the porch, I rush to the car. “Let me help.”

Harlow shifts, handing me the bag he just pulled out. “Thanks. Josh said we could come back whenever and get the rest. He said I could take anything I wanted. Furniture and stuff, and he’d replace anything I took.”

Well, that’s nice of him. I don’t trust it.

When my arms are loaded down, Harlow walks around to the back of the car and starts pulling stuff from the trunk.

Fuck, I hate this. I hate not knowing how it went.

I’m aware that makes me sound like a possessive asshole.

Did they argue? Was he nice? Was he too nice?

Does Harlow regret taking me on his honeymoon?

“…nice talk, actually. It was a little weird, but still nice. I think it’s all gonna work out, actually. Hell, even I’m surprised that he asked—”

“Asked what?” I blurt out, my heart in my throat.

Harlow glances at me over his shoulder, his eyebrow raised. “To be friends. I said that in the beginning.”

What? I’m so confused. “I must have missed that. He doesn’t want to get back together?”

Harlow barks out an incredulous laugh. “What? No.” His face screws up.

“I mean, I don’t think so. He basically said he loved me, and I said I loved him too—” My heart sinks into my stomach, souring it immediately.

“—and then we basically both agreed that we didn’t love each other the right way or enough or something.

I don’t know.” He waves a hand through the air.

“Either way, we decided that it was for the best and that we’d be friends. ”

I’m actually just so fucked up about all this. I’m not used to feeling this way at all. My love for Harlow has always been kept in a neat little box in my head. I don’t have big reactions to him like this.

Hell, I helped with wedding stuff. I watched him walk down the aisle in his tux. I watched him get ready. I saw his excitement over getting engaged and moving in with Josh. And yeah, those things hurt, but they didn’t make me feel like this.

I have no idea where this is coming from.

All I know is that it’s going to get out of control if I don’t figure out how to shove everything back down.

I’m not possessive as a general rule, and even if I am, I’m not possessive with Harlow.

I’ve never felt insecure about my place in his life.

Never. Not even when he was supposed to be getting married the next morning.

“Are you okay?”

Harlow’s voice drags me out of my thoughts. I can’t even answer him. Instead, I do the only thing I can think to do. I drop the bags in my arms, watching as Harlow’s eyes follow them as they hit the driveway, his mouth falling open in shock, then I’m striding toward him.

He snaps his eyes to mine, wide and confused. I don’t slow down at all, and as soon as he’s close enough, I wrap my arm around his waist and haul him into me.

Swallowing his surprised gasp, I settle my lips on his.

I’m not even sure why. It’s not like I’m usually jealous when it comes to Harlow. I know he’s not mine. He’s never been mine. This isn’t anything new. Except right now? He is mine. He’s wearing my ring on his finger.

Harlow tosses the bag he was holding in the trunk, then wraps his arms around me, his fingers twisting around the fabric of my shirt as he pulls me closer.

I thought kissing him would quell the burning in my veins. Somehow it makes it worse. So much worse.

It just makes me want more, which is dangerous. I’m starting to really worry that I’ve given myself too much. That he’s given me too much, and what if I can never shut it off?

What if it never goes away? What if I can’t shove it all back into its box? Then what?

Not my fucking problem. Not right now, anyway.

Right now, Harlow is moaning into my mouth, his fingertips digging into my back. Right now, he’s shifting his hips and rubbing his hardening cock against my thigh.

For now, he’s mine. And that’s what I’m going to focus on. Who knows how I’ll feel when this is all over.

So far, I’ve held myself back. Tried to keep a level of separation between us. I’m done with that. If all I get is three months, I’m gonna take everything I can get.

Tightening my grip on Harlow’s waist, I lift him off the ground. Without even having to say a word, he knows what I’m doing and moves his arms, wrapping them around my neck and his legs around my waist.

“What are you doing, husband?” he whispers against my lips.

The word sends an electric jolt down my spine, making my cock ache. “I was thinking I’d take you to bed, pretty boy.”

He tips his head back, a whine breaking free of his throat. “Yeah?”

I drag my mouth down his throat, feeling his rapid pulse under my lips. “Yeah, is that okay with you?”

“Depends.” He tilts his head to the side, and I suck a bruise into his skin. “You gonna keep calling me pretty boy?”

My lips curve into a smile. “Do you want me to?”

“Mhm. Take me to bed, Gray.”

Leaving all the bags in the middle of the driveway, I turn on my heel and head back toward the house.

Harlow tucks his face into the crook of my neck, nipping at my skin as I carry him over the threshold, kicking the door shut behind us.

Carrying him straight into the bedroom, I lay him out on the bed. He’s staring up at me with half-lidded eyes, his pupils blown and his freckles standing out against his flushed skin.

“You look stunning,” I breathe.

Lips quirking up in a small smile, Harlow inclines his head. “You’re not so bad yourself. Would be better if you took your clothes off, though.”

It’s probably a good thing that Harlow and I never did the best friends experimenting thing growing up.

If I thought I wanted him before, it’s nothing compared to now.

Now that I know what he looks like when he’s so turned on he can’t think, now that I know what he looks like with my cock buried down his throat, now that I’ve seen his facial expressions as he comes.

I’m basically an addict, and I’ve only had him twice. How much worse is it going to be at the end of all this?

I shake those thoughts away. I’ve already said that’s a future-me problem.

Present me needs him, and present him wants me. That’s what I need to be focusing on.

After stripping my shirt over my head, I unbutton my jeans, watching Harlow the entire time.

His eyes are following each movement, his teeth digging into his bottom lip.

“Are you gonna get undressed?” I ask when I’m down to my boxers.

Harlow shakes his head. “No, I thought maybe you’d undress me.”

His eyes drop to my cock when I push my boxers down, and a shiver races down my spine at the way he licks his lips. Harlow is going to ruin me. Fuck, I think he already has.

Crawling over his body, I drop a kiss on his parted lips. “You’re just gonna be my little pillow prince, huh?”

Hips punching up, Harlow moans. “I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”

Sitting him up, I help him pull his shirt off, then I lay him back and unbutton his jeans, working them down his hips as he lifts them to help me.

After pausing to take his shoes off, I pull his pants fully off, and then he’s bare in front of me.

Well, almost bare. He’s still wearing his wedding band.

His cock is flushed and resting on his lower stomach, leaking against his skin. He’s a fucking vision, and he’s all mine.

“Can’t believe this,” I hear myself murmur, dragging a hand up his inner thigh and brushing my thumb over his balls.

He squirms, eyes falling closed and lips parting around a soft moan. “Why? What’s so hard to believe about it?”

I nearly laugh at that. “Just two weeks ago, you belonged to someone else.”

Harlow’s eyes fly open. “And now what? I belong to you?”

“Would you like that? To belong to me?”

Whimpering, he nods.

Crawling back over him, I settle my body over his, smiling when he gasps and clutches my back.

As soon as my skin brushes his dick, he rolls his hips, dragging it against me.

“What do you want?” I ask, catching his lips with my own.

Fingers sink into my hair, dragging me closer as Harlow nips my lower lip, then soothes the sting with his tongue.

“I want you to fuck me. Will you do that? It’s been so long.”

That gives me pause. “So long?”

He whines low in his throat, grinding into me. “Yeah, over a month, at least. Can’t really remember. Please?”

I don’t want to examine why that makes me so happy, and I can’t think about it for too long anyway, or I’ll start feeling bad about it.

Shifting, I reach into the nightstand and pull out a bottle of lube and a strip of condoms, dropping them both on the bed.

Harlow arches up, moaning loudly. I never would have imagined he’d be so loud in bed, though I guess I should have. He’s vivacious in everything he does. Why would this be any different?

I grip his thigh, pushing his thigh back so I can settle between his legs. He watches me the entire time, his blue eyes burning in a way I’ve never seen them burn before.

He really is going to ruin me.

Grabbing the lube, I pop the cap open and pour some over my fingers before pressing two of them against his hole. It’s warm and pulsing slightly, like he wants me to hurry up and get inside him, and God, I want to. I’m dying for it, actually.

“Never thought I’d get to have you this way,” I hear myself saying as I circle my fingers around his entrance, covering him in lube and working to soften him up some for me.

He whines and shimmies and shifts, pressing his hips down like he’s trying to rush me along.

“Can you take two?” I ask, glancing up at him.

Harlow groans, nodding his head frantically. “Yes,” he rasps out.

Dropping my gaze, I push two fingers into him, watching as they disappear into the heat of his body.

His cock twitches, leaking pre-cum.

Given the way he reacted to jerking off while he was blowing me and in the alley outside the club, I figured he was sensitive. I’ve never been more thrilled to be right in my life.

Something tells me buttoned-up, boring Josh didn’t appreciate Harlow in bed. He reacts with his entire body, shivering and moaning and arching, and I’m barely even touching him.

Leaning forward, I drag my tongue up the underside of his cock, lapping at the head to collect his pre-cum. He gasps, his fingers tangling in my hair.

“Feels good,” he whispers, tugging gently on the strands.

Pulling his cock into my mouth, I swirl my tongue around the leaking head, getting another burst of pre-cum when I graze his prostate.

My cock is fucking throbbing, and each new sound and restless movement I pull out of Harlow makes it worse. I can’t wait to feel him around my cock, his body stretching to accommodate me.

There’s no way we can go without condoms—not yet. But fuck, do I want to.

Working a third finger into him, I take him deeper. His hips start rocking, his body going taut, so I pull off, watching as his cock visibly throbs, flushed and wet with my spit.

“Hurry,” he groans, his head thrashing back and forth on the pillow.

I make quick work of stretching him open, pausing only long enough to add more lube and a fourth finger. By the time he’s fully stretched around my fingers, he’s almost mindless, his voice raw as he cries out.

I wonder…

“Can you come hands-free?” I ask, brushing my fingers over his prostate.

“Depends,” Harlow gasps, fingers digging into the sheets beneath him.

“On what?”

He opens his eyes, nailing me with his gaze. “On how well I’m fucked.”

Maybe one of these days, I’ll see if I can make him come with just my fingers, but today is not that day. Today I need him like I need air, so I pull my fingers free of him. His hole gapes open for a second, slick with lube and pulsing slightly.

He moans, a soft, whiny sound that makes my balls throb.

Harlow is gonna be the death of me. What a fucking glorious way to go. Reaching for the condom, I tear it open with my teeth before rolling it down my cock.

“Are you ready?” I ask, pressing my thumb to his hole, unable to keep myself from touching him.

Blue eyes latch onto mine. “So ready.”