Chapter 18 Harrison
HARRISON
Even her snoring was adorable.
I’d dreamed of waking up next to Gwen again, and it was finally happening. After our incredible interlude at the hangar, we’d come back to my place to continue the fun, which led to hours and hours of nakedness until we finally passed out.
I was satisfied, yet still hungry for her. No surprise there.
Gwen shifted and sighed. The sheet slipped down, exposing the side of her breast in a beam of sunlight. The woman was a fucking painting. A goddess in my bed.
Gwen was exactly where she belonged. Finally.
Part of me wanted to wake her with kisses, but I was just as happy to drink her in while she slept. Every little bit of her was worthy of examination, from the eyelashes grazing her cheek to the pink toenails peeking out from the sheet.
The woman had me mesmerized.
Gwen inhaled and stirred, raising her hands up in a stretch that pulled the sheet all the way down her torso. I went hard instantly.
“Good morning,” she smiled at me. “Have you been up long?”
I smiled, because I was up in more ways than one.
“Long enough to know I need more of this,” I growled as I grabbed her wrist and slid her across the bed into my arms.
She squealed then relaxed into my kiss.
“I need to brush my teeth,” she whispered. Her hands slipped down my body to grasp my hard length. “But first…”
I groaned as she got to work. It wasn’t going to take me long. I’d always prided myself on my longevity, but things were different with Gwen. She made me feel like all the fucking I’d done in my past was an imitation of the act, and what we did together was the real deal.
I was about to stop her so I could climb on top of her and feel her sweetness wrapped around me again, when I heard the most annoying, ear-shattering noise just a few feet away. Like a fog horn combined with an air raid signal.
“What the…” I complained.
“My alarm,” she said sheepishly as she moved away from me to silence her phone. “I’m a deep sleeper. I need it loud.”
I smirked. “Yeah, there’s a lot about you that’s loud.”
“Stop,” she swatted me, laughing. “It’s a workday; we should get moving. My boss might punish me if I’m late.”
Gwen blinked at me, biting back a smile.
“Maybe you want him to punish you?”
She stuck out her bottom lip. “Oh no, never. He’s terrible. He’s known for…” she lowered her voice. “Spanking.”
Was it possible for me to get even harder?
“Is that a fact?” I asked. I arched an eyebrow. “Tell me about it.”
We hadn’t yet tried spanking, but I was game to hear her fantasy.
“One time, when I was especially bad, he pulled up my skirt, ripped off my underwear, and spanked me until my cheeks went all pink.”
Down, boy.
“And did it hurt?” I asked.
Gwen nodded her head and leaned closer, her voice a whisper. “Oh, yes. It hurt so good.”
I couldn’t take it any longer. “That’s it. We’re playing hooky.”
I rolled onto my back then pulled her on top of me. Within seconds, she was riding me so hard I worried we might break the bed.
We fucked again, then napped until we were both hungry enough to finally get up.
“Let’s order something for brunch,” I suggested.
Gwen slipped on a hoodie draped over the back of a chair. I’d fetched it out of my closet at some point during the past twelve hours, and now she’d claimed it.
“No way. I want to put that kitchen of yours to use. Do you ever cook?”
I laughed at the thought. “Yeah, no. My chef takes care of it. He comes once a week, stocks me up, and then all I have to do is reheat as needed.”
“Well, today you can skip whatever he made for you, because I’m cooking.”
Despite my control-freak tendencies, I was more than happy to let Gwen take the reins.
“Do you have real food? Like, ingredients?”
I shrugged. “I don’t spend much time in my kitchen. But Pierre does, so it’s a safe bet that it’s fully stocked.”
“A crime,” she scolded me. “Outta my way, let me get my hands on that Viking stove.”
“Actually, it’s a La Cornue Chateau.”
Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head, and she sprinted out of my bedroom.
I pulled on sweats and a T-shirt and made my way to the kitchen to find Gwen spinning in a circle like a Disney princess.
“This is paradise! You have everything!”
I laughed at her enthusiasm. “You’re this excited over appliances?”
She scowled. “Don’t you dare call these works of art appliances. You’ll hurt their feelings. Now, sit down, shut up, and let me do my thing.”
I did as I was told and watched Gwen acquaint herself with my kitchen.
“What are you making me?”
“Quiche,” she answered as she pulled eggs and butter from my glass-front refrigerator. She pointed at it. “That’s a restaurant-quality fridge, you know.”
“I’m aware,” I laughed.
Gwen narrated every step of her process, taking time to freak out about every tool and appliance she touched.
Even my mixing bowls were worthy of a swoon.
Meanwhile, I couldn’t stop staring at her as she chopped, stirred, and rolled.
Gwen excelled at everything, and when she was faced with a stumbling block like too-cold butter, she quickly found a workaround.
Resilient, creative, and—if the aroma in my kitchen was any indication—a damn good cook.
My phone rang, and I felt an immediate surge of guilt as I realized I’d barely thought about work, which meant that Gwen was also a damn good distraction. But to my surprise, it wasn’t Susan but my brother Logan.
I steeled myself for the conversation to come. These days, he felt like a stranger to me, which meant that my father’s party this weekend was going to require getting reacquainted.
Which wouldn’t be the worst thing. Maybe it was time for us to try to find a way back to being a family?
Gwen glanced at me as I answered.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” I said into the phone.
“Nothing, why would you assume something’s wrong?” Logan laughed. “Damn, dude, you sound miserable. As usual.”
I frowned at the countertop. He thought I sounded miserable? It showed how little he knew about me. Although talking to him probably did bring out the worst in me, despite the amazing time I was currently having.
“What do you need?” I asked, because the call certainly wasn’t a social check-in.
“Yeah, uh, I just wanted to see when you’re arriving. Drew and I want to connect with you to go over some last-minute details before Dad gets in.”
I’d barely given the party any thought.
“Not sure.” I glanced at Gwen as she poured the eggy mixture into the pie crust. “I’ll get that figured out and text you my travel details.”
Gwen’s eyes flicked to me then back to her creation.
“Assuming you’re coming solo,” Logan said. “Unless there’s a model of the moment I haven’t heard about.”
“I’ll let you know,” I said cryptically. “Anything else we need to discuss? I’m sort of in the middle of something.”
Logan laughed. “Yeah, it’s Tuesday at eleven forty-five, I figured you’d be doing something important. Sorry to interrupt.”
There was no way I was telling him I was currently being pampered by the most beautiful woman alive. Let him think I was working hard at the office.
“Guess I’ll see you soon,” I said.
“You know it,” Logan said. “I’ll be happy when this is over. I’m lousy at keeping secrets.”
“Oh, don’t worry, I’m sure Dad’s just pretending not to know.”
“Killjoy,” Logan replied, then I heard a scuffle as he covered the phone to talk to someone “Sorry, Noah wants to make sure I tell you he says hello.” Another pause. “Excuse me, he wants me to say, ‘Hi, Uncle Harry, I miss you.’”
I grinned. My nephew, Noah, had been a surprise for all of us, his father included, but now we all couldn’t imagine life without him. Noah lived with his mom most of the time, far from California, but we tried to have as active a role in his life as we could.
“Tell that kid he’s the best, and I miss him too.”
I noticed Gwen glance over at me then refocus on her cooking.
We ended the call.
“Sounds like you’ve got a trip coming up. Anything I need to know about?” Gwen asked.
She’d put the quiche in the oven and was now watching me expectantly.
I’d been debating the question since we’d tumbled into bed the night before, because now everything between us was different.
“Yeah, actually there is,” I began slowly. “I’ve got this…thing coming up on Saturday. In Carmel. A party. Would you want to come?”
It was an awkward invitation, but the idea of bringing Gwen with me to a family function had me at an uncharacteristic loss of words.
Gwen’s face shifted as she considered it. I could read disbelief, confusion, excitement. “A party. With you.”
I nodded.
“What’s the occasion?”
I cleared my throat. Probably should’ve led with that. “It’s, um, my dad’s sixtieth birthday. We’re having a surprise party.”
It wasn’t that I didn’t want Gwen to go, it was just what the implication of bringing her would mean. Sure, I’d brought women to family functions before. No one would necessarily be surprised by it.
The difference this time around was how I felt about bringing someone.
Because Gwen wasn’t just a “someone.”
“How would that work?” she asked. “Because Carmel is sort of far for a party.”
“We’d fly out Friday after work, spend the night, take the next day to do whatever, go to the party Saturday night, then fly home Sunday morning. Early, if that’s better for you.”
Gwen rushed over to me and wrapped her arms around me. “Yes, yes, yes! I would love that!”
I smiled as I squeezed her to me. “I’ll warn you, there’s probably going to be drama. My dad doesn’t love big parties when he’s the center of attention, and then there’s the static between me and my brothers.”
She leaned back to stare at my face. “Why is there static? Did something happen?”
I shook my head. “No, there wasn’t an event, like a fight or anything. It’s just…how it’s always been.”
Gwen nestled her head against my chest. “Well, that’s not good at all. You and your brothers should be close. My sister, Sarah, is my best friend.”
“Yeah, well just because they’re blood doesn’t mean I have to like them.”
She untangled herself from me and stepped backward. “And that’s where you’re wrong. You need them.”
“Wrong.” I scoffed. “I don’t need anyone.”
Gwen’s forehead crumpled for a moment.
“At least, I don’t need them,” I continued. “They’re the golden boys, and I’m the black sheep. That’s the way it’s always been, and nothing’s going to change it now. Especially with my mom not around. She was the glue.”
“You were close to her, huh?”
I nodded and tried to stomp down the grief I felt every time I thought about how we had lost her. My coping mechanism to deal with any loss or pain or sadness was to compartmentalize my feelings and shove them down. They couldn’t hurt me if I didn’t allow myself to feel them.
“Are you sure you want me to go?” Gwen asked.
“I wouldn’t have asked you if I didn’t want you to go.”
“True,” she nodded. “In that case, I’d be honored to go with you. I can be your buffer.”
I reached out to take her hand and pull her closer to me again. She snuggled against me, and I marveled at how perfectly we fit together. I rested my chin on top of her head and stroked her back.
“How long will the quiche be in the oven?” I asked.
Gwen twisted her head to glance at the timer on her phone. “We still have thirty minutes. Sorry.”
“Thirty minutes,” I repeated. “Okay, how about an appetizer?”
“Sure,” she chirped as she untangled herself, already in planning mode. “What do you have in mind? I saw some nice Stilton in your fridge. You’ve got some French bread, and I can whip up a little olive oil dipping sauce. Sound good?”
I shook my head as I opened the refrigerator. “I was thinking about this type of appetizer.”
I held up the can of whipped cream in one hand and the bottle of chocolate sauce in the other.
Gwen frowned at me. “On top of what?”
I stalked toward her. “On top of you.”
Her eyes went wide, but then she gave me a wicked grin.
“Only if you can catch me.”
Gwen paused a beat to giggle at me, then took off running, the sound of her bare feet echoing throughout my apartment.
I sure hoped thirty minutes would be long enough.