Chapter 13 Kelsey
Harrison took her hand and led her out of the office, down the quiet hallway, and through the dim club toward the back exit. The low music still pulsed somewhere in the distance, but it felt far away now, like it belonged to another world entirely.
Kelsey barely noticed it.
Her pulse was still racing from the kiss in his office, the heat of it lingering on her lips as if the moment had branded itself there.
Neither of them spoke as they crossed the parking lot.
They didn’t need to.
The silence between them wasn’t awkward anymore. It felt thick, almost electric, full of everything they had both stopped pretending not to feel.
Harrison opened the passenger door of the SUV and waited.
Kelsey slid inside, suddenly aware of how fast her heart was beating. By the time he closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side, she had turned slightly toward the window, trying to steady her breathing.
He started the engine and pulled out onto the road.
For several minutes, the only sound in the SUV was the low hum of the tires against the pavement. The silence stretched between them, growing heavier with every passing block, charged with the weight of what they’d left behind at the office.
Finally, Kelsey broke it, her voice barely a whisper. “Your house?”
Harrison glanced at her briefly, his profile sharp against the passing streetlights, before returning his eyes to the road. “That’s where we’re headed.”
Her stomach flipped, a nervous, electric thrill dancing through her. She shifted in her seat, drawing in a slow, steadying breath. “You’re very sure about this.”
“I know exactly what I want, Kelsey.”
She turned fully toward him, her gaze searching his face. “And what if I changed my mind?”
“Then we stop,” he said, his voice dropping into that calm, absolute tone that always managed to ground her. “Immediately.”
The simplicity of the answer caught her off guard, and she went still. There was no pressure in his voice, only a steady, unwavering respect that made her pulse skip.
Harrison kept his eyes on the road, but his hand reached across the center console, his fingers briefly brushing against her knee. “But if you know what’s good for you,” he added quietly, “you’ll stop looking for reasons to run from something you already want.”
The words settled deep in her chest—not as an accusation, but as a quiet, undeniable truth. He wasn't guessing; he was reading her better than she was reading herself.
Kelsey didn’t answer. She simply watched the road stretch ahead as the city lights began to thin, giving way to the quieter, tree-lined streets of the outskirts.
By the time he turned into a long driveway flanked by dark oaks, the tension in the car had shifted into something softer, though no less powerful.
The house appeared through the trees, a sprawling, modern structure with warm light glowing through the expansive windows. Kelsey looked at it for a moment, the scale of it reflecting the man beside her.
“You live here alone?”
“I do.”
He parked, and the stillness of the night seemed to close around them the moment the engine cut out. Harrison stepped out and moved around to her side, opening the passenger door before she could even reach for the handle.
When she slid out of the SUV, she didn't move away. He closed the door behind her and guided her toward the front steps, his hand settling firmly at the small of her back. The touch was brief, but it steadied the frantic rhythm of her heart.
Inside, the house was a sanctuary of quiet and warmth. Soft lamplight spilled across dark wood floors and clean, open spaces that felt exactly like him—strong, deliberate, and uncluttered. The faint scent of cedar lingered in the air, mixed with the clean, masculine spice that clung to his skin.
Kelsey had just enough time to take in the room before the heavy front door closed behind them with a definitive click, sealing the rest of the world away.
She turned toward him.
For half a second, neither of them moved, the silence of the house magnified by the frantic thrum of her own pulse. Then, Kelsey took a single step closer.
That was all the invitation he needed.
Harrison’s hand caught her wrist, firm but gentle, pulling her the rest of the way into his space.
Her body collided with the solid heat of his as his mouth found hers again—deeper this time, hotter, any lingering restraint vanishing in the space between breaths.
Her hands slid up the crisp fabric of his shirt, fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck as he hauled her flush against him.
Suddenly, the floor was gone.
A small, surprised gasp left her as he lifted her easily, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist to anchor herself.
She laughed softly, the sound muffled against his lips as he kissed her again, his stride certain as he carried her deeper into the house.
They didn't make it to the bedroom; the edge of the dark mahogany dining table brushed the backs of her thighs before he set her down carefully, stepping between her knees without letting her go.
For a moment, he simply looked at her.
The sage dress had bunched around her hips, her hair falling in a wild, dark silk over her shoulders. She could feel the weight of his gaze moving slowly, possessively, over every inch of her.
“You’re staring,” she murmured, her voice a low vibration.
“I know.”
The blunt honesty sent a fresh shiver down her spine. His hands moved to the tie at her waist, his fingers pausing there in a silent question. Her breath caught as she realized the shift in his intent.
“You’re not wasting any time,” she whispered.
His eyes lifted to hers, dark and steady. “Tell me to stop, Kelsey.”
She didn’t. She couldn’t.
The silence stretched, heavy with the weight of her choice, before he slowly, deliberately untied the dress.
The fabric loosened under his large hands, gliding down her arms until it gathered in a ring of silk around her waist. Harrison didn't stop there; his palms swept over her hips, urging the dress down her legs until it fell to the rug.
She remained on the edge of the table, feeling dangerously exposed in only her lace panties, while he stood between her knees, still fully dressed in his charcoal button-up.
The contrast made her stomach flip. He looked like a study in controlled power, the fabric stretched across his broad shoulders, sleeves rolled back to reveal forearms that felt like granite. He hadn't lost an ounce of his composure, while she was already coming apart at the seams.
"You look so small sitting there," he murmured, stepping deeper into the cradle of her thighs.
He stopped asking for permission and simply took. His thumbs hooked into the delicate lace at her hips, peeling the fabric down her legs with a maddening lack of haste. "There," he whispered, his thumb grazing the sensitive skin of her inner thigh as the lace fluttered to the floor. "Much better."
Need flared in her, sharp and demanding.
She reached out, her fingers trembling as she fumbled with the top button of his shirt.
She worked it free, then the next, her knuckles brushing the hard planes of his chest. Harrison stood perfectly still, allowing her the lead until the last button gave way and she shoved the shirt off his shoulders.
He looked down at her, his expression darkening into something primal.
"Tell Daddy what you want, Kelsey," he commanded, the endearment hitting her with the force of a physical weight. "Use your words, sweetheart."
"I want... I want you," she breathed, her voice small but certain.
He didn't make her wait. Harrison sank to his knees between her legs, his hands gripping her thighs and spreading them wide, exposing her completely to the warm lamplight. When the first ghost of his breath hit her damp skin, she whimpered, and then his mouth was there.
He was thorough, his tongue sweeping over her in long, slow strokes that made her toes curl against the polished wood.
He used his thumbs to part her, his gaze fixed on her face as he tasted her deeply.
Kelsey’s head snapped back, a low moan breaking from her throat as he found her center with a rhythmic, swirling pressure.
He was relentless, his tongue flickering against her with a precision that made her entire body go taut.
"Good girl," he mumbled against her skin, the vibration sending a fresh jolt of heat through her. "Stay still for me."
She couldn't. She leaned back on her elbows, her chest heaving, her hands finding their way to his head.
She tangled her fingers deep into his hair, gripping tight, her hips bucking instinctively against his mouth.
He only held her firmer, his fingers digging into her bottom to keep her pinned to the table as he drank her in.
When the release finally hit, it was a jagged, gasping thing.
She came hard against his face, her body shuddering as she called his name, her grip in his hair the only thing keeping her from sliding off the table.
Harrison didn't give her a second to recover. He stood, his own breath coming in heavy, jagged pulls. He moved with a focused intensity, his hand going to his belt. The metallic clink of the buckle echoed in the quiet room as he shoved his pants down just enough to free himself.
Kelsey’s throat went bone-dry at the sight of him—thick, heavy, and ready.
"Let Daddy take care of you," he growled.
He stepped back in, his hands sliding under her thighs to hook them over his broad shoulders, opening her completely and tilting her pelvis up. He didn't ease in; he drove forward, sinking deep into her with a single, authoritative thrust.
Kelsey let out a strangled cry, her fingers digging into the muscle of his shoulders as he filled her to the absolute brink. He stayed there for a beat, buried to the hilt, letting her body stretch to accommodate him.
"You're so tight for me, Kelsey," he groaned, his voice gravelly against her ear as he began to pull back, only to drive home again with a wet, heavy thud. Each stroke was slow and agonizingly deep, his weight bearing down on her as he claimed every inch.
He found a rhythm that was relentless, his pace quickening as he watched her face unravel. Kelsey was a mess of sensations—the hard mahogany beneath her, the heat of his skin, and the overwhelming feeling of being completely possessed.
"Just let go, sweetheart," he urged, his hands shifting to her waist, his grip firm and steady as he guided her hips to meet every one of his lunges. "Daddy's got you."
As she began to peak again, her breath coming in short, high hitches, Harrison leaned down, his lips brushing her ear. "Good girl," he praised, the words sending a fresh jolt of electricity through her. "Take it all for Daddy. You're doing so well for me."
The praise was the breaking point. Kelsey wrapped her legs tighter around his waist, her back arching off the table as the friction reached a white-hot intensity.
With one final, devastatingly deep thrust, Harrison groaned her name, his body going rigid as he spent himself inside her, the weight of him pressing her down into the wood as they both came unglued in the quiet of the house.
The heavy silence that followed was different from the one in the car; the electric tension had been replaced by a thick, sleepy weight.
Kelsey remained on the table, her breath still hitching in the quiet room, her legs trembling where they were still draped over Harrison’s shoulders.
She felt completely spent, her body buzzing with a sensitivity that made every small movement feel overwhelming.
Harrison didn't pull away immediately. He stayed buried inside her for a long moment, his forehead pressed against hers, his ragged breathing finally beginning to level out. When he did move, it was with a gentle deliberate-ness that made Kelsey feel like she was made of the finest glass.
He stepped back, adjusting his clothes with one hand while the other stayed firmly on her hip, anchoring her. He didn't say a word as he reached for the sage dress on the floor, but instead of handing it to her, he tossed it onto a nearby chair.
"Come here, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice still low and gravelly.
Before she could even think to move her shaky limbs, Harrison reached down and tucked one arm behind her back and the other under her knees.
He lifted her off the table as if she weighed nothing, and Kelsey instinctively tucked her head into the crook of his neck, her fingers curling into his hair again—this time seeking comfort rather than leverage.
He carried her through the dim hallway of the house toward the master suite. The air in the bathroom was already warming as he kicked the door open and set her down gently on the edge of the large marble tub.
"Stay right here," he commanded softly.
Kelsey watched, feeling small and dazed, as he turned on the water.
He didn't look at her with the same predatory heat as before; now, his gaze was focused and protective.
He grabbed a soft, white washcloth, soaking it in the warm water before kneeling between her legs—just as he had on the table, but the energy had shifted entirely.
"Daddy’s going to clean you up," he whispered, his eyes meeting hers with a steady, grounding warmth.
He was meticulous, his touch light as he wiped the remnants of their intimacy from her skin.
Every swipe of the warm cloth was a soothing balm to the ache he had just put there.
When he was finished, he didn't let her stand.
He reached for a plush towel, patting her dry with a tenderness that brought a fresh prickle of tears to her eyes.
It was the care—the absolute, unwavering focus on her well-being—that truly locked it in.
He stood up, reaching for a clean, oversized charcoal tee from a drawer and pulling it over her head. It smelled exactly like him—cedar and something uniquely Harrison.
"There," he said, smoothing her hair back from her face. "You did so well for me tonight, Kelsey. Such a good girl."
He picked her up once more, carrying her to the massive bed and tucking her under the heavy duvet. As he climbed in beside her and pulled her flush against his chest, Kelsey realized that the dynamic wasn't just about the surrender—it was about the safety of the man holding her.