CHAPTER 47
Harvey
I’ve been on many other dates with Claire. We spent so much of our time indoors when our relationship started that I know she must be happy to do other things together now. It’s been two weeks since our picnic date, and I can barely go a day without seeing her.
Today’s Sunday, and it hasn’t stopped raining since this morning. Claire planned for us to make homemade pasta for dinner, and honestly, it’s the perfect day to do it.
Henrik walks out of his room, and a strong whiff of cologne follows him.
“You’re supposed to spray the cologne, not drown in it,” I remark.
He laughs and gives me the finger before he pockets his wallet. “Don’t wait up for me tonight.”
“I think it’s fair to say I’ve stopped waiting for you.”
“What can I say?” He shrugs. “We can’t all live my glorious life.”
I know it’s his life, but I worry about him sometimes. He’s my little brother. I introduced him to the party scene as soon as he started college, and it makes me wonder if I played a role in all of this. I know it’s normal to have sex, but there’s a difference between that and masking your problems with sex.
Or maybe he truly is happy and I should leave him alone.
When Hen leaves, I go back to my room and spend the afternoon sketching, waiting for Claire. I’m drawing a lot more now. The creativity’s flowing out of me. I even ordered painting tools and canvases online to start painting.
I figured I’d take my art to the next level.
When Claire arrives, she comes equipped with food. We start prepping the dough together, and I watch her knead the dough as if she’s done this many times.
She’s wearing a light green sundress, and it looks perfect with her red hair. I help her out as much as I can while standing, like I promised myself I would.
I can do this.
I can stand and walk around slowly and cook with the woman I love.
I can’t even believe it sometimes—the life I’m living right now. I’ve been dreaming of this for years, and I finally have it all in front of me.
She places a wet towel over the bowl filled with dough. “Claire,” I say, watching her cut the Roma tomatoes, “I meant it. I don’t want us to be apart any longer.”
She stops in her tracks and puts the knife down. “I think we want the same thing.”
“Do we? Because I want a real relationship with you. I want you to be mine.”
She smiles, and it does inexplicable things to me. “You want me to be your girlfriend?” she asks happily.
I nod, and she runs into my arms, and I’m glad I have the kitchen island as support.
“Oh, I’m so sorry…” She notices when she pulls back.
“Don’t be.” I’m more stable than I used to be, but my body still likes to remind me of its limits. I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to fully walk long distances without crutches, but for now, I’m taking it day by day.
We finish the pasta sauce, and later we turn the dough into linguine noodles before preparing all of it—meatballs included. We top everything off with fresh Parmesan and basil and red wine.
It’s great to finally sit down and give my legs a rest.
Once we’re done eating and Claire tidies up the kitchen, we bring our wine into the living room. I walk slowly from the dining chair to the couch, careful with every step.
I relax once I’m sitting down again, and Claire cuddles next to me. “Thanks for bringing all the ingredients, Claire. I’ll transfer you the money.”
“Nonsense.” Her brow furrows. “Tonight was entirely on me.”
“We’ll see about that.”
“Harvey, I’m serious!”
“ I’m serious ,” I mimic, and she shakes her head. I push her hair back from her face and admire her eyes—so dark right now. “I want to make sure you know how much I appreciate you. You gave me time to work on myself when you could’ve told me to fuck off.”
She looks at me, her smile lighting up her face, lifting her cheeks. “I love you. Of course I was going to wait for you. I knew that you were worth it.”
“Hmm, debatable with the way I treated you at times.”
“It’s in the past now. We’re moving on.” She leans her head on my shoulder in the cutest gesture. When she looks up at me, she beams and leans in to kiss me. She’s about to pull back when I pull her in farther until she ends up on my lap.
I keep kissing her slowly, savoring her like I did our dinner.
“I love you,” I whisper against her lips, and she repeats the words, saying them to me again. I couldn’t be happier, knowing that the woman I love loves me back.
I know I’ve made a mess out of things, but everything is slowly coming together, feeling aligned for the first time in a while.
“You’re mine, Harvey,” she says in a quiet voice. “You’re mine now.”
“I am—all yours.” I mean it from the bottom of my heart.
I could never explain everything that drew me to her from the beginning, save for this intense feeling.
It’s magnetic and poetic and everything I could ever wish for.
Our lips move against each other, taking it all in. All the pain we went through to be together, and all the love we feel.
I hold on to the back of her neck as she straddles me. My hands travel farther down, grabbing the hem of her dress and lifting it up and over her head, getting her out of it, which is what I’ve been waiting for all evening.
I remove her bra and trace one tit at a time with my forefinger, the gesture pumping more blood to my dick.
“So beautiful,” I tell her.
She tilts her head to the side and removes my shirt. “So are you. From the first time I met you, I couldn’t get over your beauty.”
I swallow, her compliment boosting my ego.
Then I kiss her again, and it feels amazing to have her bare chest leaning against mine.
I touch her from her neck all the way down her back. Her skin is so soft. And her smell—God, her smell drives me wild. She smells like apricots and peaches with a hint of something else, something light.
I keep kissing her, enveloping her face with my hands, as her moans unravel something in me.
“I want you, please .”
“Then you’ll have me.” I appease her. “But first, get down on your knees.”
She does. She proceeds to give me the most attentive blow job I’ve ever received. Every lick and stroke reveals her want and need and craving for me. Watching her heaving breasts brush against me while she takes care of me is enough to make me believe I can reach for the stars.
I stop her once my body gets too eager, and she finds my lap again. She shows me how ready she is by bringing both my fingers and hers down to her core.
“Ah, Claire, look how wet you are.”
“It’s not enough. I need more,” she begs.
“I know, babe. I know.”
I play with her some more, torn between not wanting to rush this and not wanting my dick or bladder to fuck it up.
I breathe in deeply, hoping to stem my nervousness. I brush off my worries, and instead I touch and tease her until she’s begging me to put it inside her.
I move forward a little on the couch, looking down, continuing to play with Claire, when she puts her hands under my jaw and lifts my head to look her in the eye, and I can’t describe this feeling—having the eyes of a woman who truly loves me look deep into my soul.
She knows my pain and my struggles, yet she’s here with me.
“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” I say softly.
“Everyone deserves to be loved, Harvey.”
“I don’t know about that.” I smile.
She kisses me, then she whispers, “Get up, Harv.” I freeze, my stomach churning. “I think”—her finger slides down my chest—“we should continue this in bed.”
I want to deny her. I’m terrified of losing my mojo once we’re there after all the movement, yet I think about the last time we tried to have sex on the couch and how that ended.
Perhaps this is her way of hoping to avoid that from happening again—not that it would.
I watch her walk away from me sensually until I remember that I have to walk to my room too, since I left my wheelchair in the kitchen.
I don’t waste a second.
I get up, fearing for my life as I’m no longer hard—anxiety is a quick little demon.
But I take a first step, and second, and then three more.
I don’t have that much distance to cover, and finally I let out a huge breath as I make it to my room. Then I lose my breath for another reason entirely.
Claire’s lying down on my bed, completely naked and on display for me, and I’m holding on to my bedframe, looking down at her, hoping my body will be as excited as my mind is in this moment.
I pinch Claire’s nipple, and I close my eyes as she clenches her thighs together, her moan filling the room with its sensational melody.
I want my fill of her.
I want to fill this woman with my cum over and over and over.
I want to own her in bed and please her and succumb to her.
I finally lie down, and we kiss again, savoring every line of contact between our bodies. Her hair, her face, her entire body smells divine.
Feeling her tits against my chest is enough for my hardness to return, and I sigh in relief against her mouth.
“Relax,” Claire whispers in my ear. “Let me take care of you.” Her words affect me to my deepest core.
This is my future wife.
She kisses my lips, my jawline, my neck. Then she moves down to my chest and stomach before heading for my hard-on, kissing and sucking with her divine mouth. Eventually, she rubs herself against me as she moves to straddle me before sliding my hardness inside of her.
I’m in heaven even though in the back of my mind lurks the fear that something will go wrong.
But truly, I’m too turned on. So I focus on her chest in my face and the way her mouth parts as she moans and grinds with each and every thrust, knowing that everything she’s doing is going to send me over the edge.
She leans down, and we kiss again, our tongues colliding. “Harvey…you feel so good,” she mutters before I kiss her.
My body is revived.
I’m powerful and free and weirdly at peace.
It’s as if she’s released all the dark, insecure energy within me.
I hold her by the neck, our eyes locking together. “Let go, Claire.”
I never knew that fucking could feel like this—this magical thing, this sense of belonging and unity. I thrust into her a few more times until she goes rigid with pleasure, and I follow right after, pleased that I didn’t mess this up.
I exhale loudly as Claire gets off me, smiling as she lies next to me. I stare at her, watching her catch her breath, watching every movement of her chest.
Our hands reach for one another.
“Claire…there’s something you should know.”
“Yes?” she asks, seeming satiated.
“I haven’t fucked…” Her eyes widen when I pause, and I sigh, eager to tell her the truth, yet scared to do so. “I haven’t had sex since the accident.”
“You and Gemma didn’t…since?” I shake my head in response. “Oh, my.” She swallows. “Well, that explains a lot.”
I snort. “I guess it does.”
“Why not?”
I scratch my five-o’clock shadow with my thumb. “Well, we tried, but I had a few bladder mishaps, and I couldn’t risk it. I was…too focused on what might happen.”
“I see,” she whispers, her mind no doubt in overdrive. “So the first time we had sex before our fight—”
“Was my first time fucking since the accident, yeah. And then tonight.”
“Wow,” she murmurs. “Why me, Harvey?” She turns on her side to look at me as I lie next to her, staring at the white ceiling above.
I shrug. “I didn’t want to fall for you. I wanted to hate you, you know. At the beginning, that’s mainly why I was rude to you at times. But then we spent more time together, and there was no pressure, and I wanted you—badly. Tell me what you’re thinking, Claire?” I ask, stealing a look her way.
I’m dying here, woman.
She bites her bottom lip. “I’m ashamed to admit that I feel prideful and possessive, like you were mine all along. At the same time, I feel sorry for you and Gemma, what you two went through at such a young age. There was so much to overcome. Honestly, I’ll probably always feel a little bit guilty about it…”
“Claire, don’t—”
“It’s okay.” She gently sets her hand on my arm. “I stole you away from Gemma. It’s all part of it.”
I snicker. “Punishing yourself won’t help. Did you ever think maybe we were meant to be? If we would’ve gone through the accident together, I think things might’ve been different. We’re open with each other, and we talk . With Gemma, even before the accident, I couldn’t get a thought out of her. Sometimes it felt as if I barely knew her, even after all those years.”
“Truthfully…I can see that, I really can.” She nods. “Have you had any more physical accidents lately?” she asks, the nurse in her kicking in.
“No,” I reply. “No peeing on myself, and I have more control…sexually.”
“That’s good,” she tells me. “You could’ve told me all this before. I would’ve understood.”
“I know,” I say softly. “I just didn’t want to jinx any of it.”
“I still can’t believe it though,” she says, her voice low. “I had so many insecurities along the way.” Her chuckle turns into a sigh.
“You shouldn’t have them anymore. Now that you know I wanted you from the very beginning.” I tilt my head to stare at her, leaning over to swipe a fallen tear from her cheek.
“I don’t know why I’m crying!” She shakes her head. “I fell for you so fast, Harvey, and it all feels like a dream…that I’m here with you like this.”
“Come here.” I clear my throat, my hand on the back of her neck to guide her as she moves into my arms. “I’m yours now, Claire.”
“And I’m yours—forever.” The smile she gives me when she pulls back to look at me, her hand on my chest, is the reason I fell for her.
She’s right about one thing: being together feels like a dream.
And I’m happy.
Real happy.