25. Jefferson
CHAPTER 25
JEFFERSON
For a Sapphire Falls street dance, that had gotten a little intense.
I glance over at Harlow.
She’s watching the town pass by her window as we drive toward my house.
She’s been quiet ever since we got in the truck. My hand is resting on her thigh and she’s got her hand on top of mine, but we’re not talking.
I have no idea what to say.
I’m still stunned by what her mom—and my mom and their friends—had revealed tonight.
But I don’t know why I feel that way.
All of that is completely in character. If one of their kids needs something, they all rally around. It’s always been that way. And Peyton is the epitome of a mama bear. She would have absolutely beat the shit out of Zach herself. And the other moms would have covered for her.
If I hadn’t gotten there first.
I’m glad I did. Peyton didn’t need to confront all of that, deal with all of that.
I definitely needed to.
I suppose my surprise is simply because I didn’t know they all knew what had happened with Zach.
Now that I know, everything makes sense. Including the fact that Zach has left Harlow alone.
Until now.
The guy really does have balls coming back here now, for this wedding, and telling Harlow he wanted her back.
“You could have waited until after the championship game.”
I look over at Harlow as she finally speaks. “What?”
She keeps her gaze on the street in front of us. “You could have waited to confront Zach until after the game.”
I grip the steering wheel tighter. “No, I couldn’t have.”
“Why not? The game was huge and?—”
“Harlow.” I cut her off, squeezing her thigh. I look over. She’s looking at me with wide eyes. “He drugged you. He would have done even worse given the chance. That was not going to stand. That was huge. That was bigger than any fucking football game.”
I hate that I have to concentrate on the road. We’re only a couple of blocks from my house though and we need to get there. She doesn’t say anything so I just focus on the drive.
We pull into my driveway, and I let out a long, relieved breath. I shut off the truck and turn to her. “Okay, what are you thinking? Wondering about?”
She swallows and then looks over at me. “Let’s go inside.”
I start to respond, but then close my mouth. Yes, we should go inside. I’ll tell her whatever she needs to know, but now, with all the emotions stirred up again, I want to do what I couldn’t do back then—hold her, assure her she’s safe, tell her that I love her, and no one will ever hurt her as long as I’m around.
I nod and get out, coming around to her side of the truck. She’s got the door open, but she lets me swing her to the ground and take her hand as we head up the path to the porch. I open the door, letting her past me, then I step in, shut and lock the door behind me.
“Harlow—” I start.
But she turns to me. The only light is the small lamp on the table just inside the door. “You would have gone after him no matter who he’d drugged at a party. You never would have let him get away with that. I want you to know that I know that. And…I love that. You’re a really amazing man.”
That hits me directly in the chest. I take a breath and blow it out. “Thank you. But, I…” Fuck, does she need to know this? I suppose so. “I would have talked to him, probably punched him once or twice, definitely threatened him if it was anyone else,” I say. “But it was you. I hurt him a lot more than I probably needed to. More than I should have.” I shake my head. “I’m really not proud of it, but I’m also not sorry.”
She’s watching me as I confess. “I don’t think you need to be sorry.”
Good. Because I’m not sure I’ve got that in me.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” she asks.
“About beating the hell out of him?” I shrug. “You didn’t need to know. It was between me and Zach.”
“I did need to know.” She moves closer. “You were in love with me. Why didn’t you tell me that ?”
Oh, that. I smile. “Because it wasn’t time.”
Her brows pull together. “But you felt it. I should have known. It would have changed…so many things.”
I shake my head. “I was leaving to go to school. It would have actually been unfair to tell you. Definitely harder on me. Besides…you weren’t ready yet. You weren’t in love with me. You needed more time.”
She seems very bothered by this. “But maybe if I’d known what you did and how you felt…” She frowns, looking up at me. “Fuck, you’re right.”
I lift a brow. “I will never get tired of hearing those words from you.”
She rolls her eyes, but then gives me a little smile. “If you’d told me you were in love with me and then still left, I would have been hurt and angry. The leaving thing…that would have been hard.”
I nod. “Yeah. I know.” I lift my hand and cup her face. “And it would have made leaving harder. And if I hadn’t…”
“You would have missed out on a lot,” she fills in quietly. She reaches up and wraps her hand around my wrist, holding my hand against her cheek. “You would have missed out on things that made you who you are today. The man I really do love now.”
I swallow hard, my throat suddenly tight. “Do you really believe that? That me leaving was a good thing?”
She nods slowly. “Yes. There’s a big world out there full of people and experiences—good and bad—that make people into who they turn out to be. It happened for you. It’s happening for Graham, and Ginny, and Alex. It even happened for Zach. He’s not quite the same person he used to be.”
I feel relief washing through me. “I’m glad you feel that way.”
“Yeah, I guess I have to be glad that you left.” The corner of her mouth tips up. “I mean glad for reasons other than the reasons I was glad at the time.”
I crowd close. “You thought you were getting rid of me.”
“I did.” Now her smile is full. “Then you came home to torture me.”
I slide my hand back into her hair, the other around to her ass, bringing her up against me. “Yes, yes I did.”
Her pupils dilate and she watches me with true love in her eyes. I will never get over that.
“I shouldn’t say this, but it’s really hot that you beat Zach up for me,” she says, her voice husky.
“Yeah? How hot?”
“Really, really hot.”
I lean in and brush my mouth over hers. “Are you wet for me, Harlow?”
She sucks in a little breath. “Yes,” she says against my lips.
“Prove it.”
She pulls back, her lips pressed together. She studies me for a moment. Then those lips I intend to be kissing for the next eighty years of my life curl up into a mischievous smile. She reaches behind her, unzips her dress, and lets it fall.
I step back, leaning against the door, and cross my arms over my chest.
She thinks I’ve tortured her in the past? She hasn’t seen anything yet.
“Take off the rest,” I tell her.
She unhooks her bra and drops it, then slips her panties over her hips and they hit the floor.
“Now sit on the couch,” I tell her.
My beautiful, completely naked girlfriend—I fucking love that term—backs up and sits down on the middle cushion of my sofa.
“Spread your legs.” My voice is husky now. “Show me where you need my attention.”
Her boldness, in all things, is one of the things I love most about her. She doesn’t hesitate to part her knees. Then she lifts one foot up onto the cushion, and lets her leg fall to the side.
Jesus. My cock is aching, and I have to grip my hands and force myself to stay where I am. But yes, I’m going to torture her a little. Okay, torture us both a little.
She cups her breasts with both hands, running her thumbs over her hard nipples, making sweet needy noises. Then she runs her hands from her breasts over her stomach to her inner thighs, then back up.
“Harlow, touch yourself.”
“I am touching myself.”
She knows what I want and, of course, has already taken some of the control back. “Play with your pussy for me,” I say, more firmly.
Her eyes are locked on mine as she slides a hand down her belly and between her legs. She circles over her clit. “I wish you were doing this.”
“Imagine it’s my hand. How do you want me to touch you? Show me.”
She circles a little faster, her breathing increasing, then she slides her fingers down and into that sweet pussy.
I groan silently, imagining the hot, tight feel of her.
“Keep going,” I say, low and gruff.
I watch as she teases herself, the flush spreading up her chest to her neck. Her breathing continues to increase, and she says my name again on a soft moan.
I am rock hard and it’s taking everything in me to stay where I am.
I watch her speed up, circling over her clit and I can tell she’s getting close.
“Stop.”
Her eyes fly to mine. Her hand does pause, then she starts moving it again.
“Harlow, stop.”
“You’re just teasing me.”
“Yes. Stop. We’re just getting started and you’re not going on without me.”
“Then come over here and stop me.” But her hand has stopped moving.
Oh, we’re gonna play. Okay. “You think you don’t like being bossed around,” I say pushing off the door. “But you need to trust me. Let me tell you what to do. I promise it will be good.”
“You stopped me short of an orgasm. How is that good?”
I walk over to the couch and stand, looking down at her. Fuck, she is every dream come true.
“Delayed satisfaction just isn’t in your vocabulary?”
She gives me a sexy smile. “Definitely not. Not as long as I have fingers and toys.”
I drop to my knees in front of her and pull her hand away. “You don’t need those tonight.”
Then I lean in and give her a long firm lick.
She cries out and her hand goes to my hair, gripping tightly.
She is my absolute favorite flavor and I could stay here for hours. But she was just on the verge of coming, so she’s almost immediately arching closer to my mouth, her stomach and thighs tightening. I continue to lick and suck, bringing her closer and closer to the edge. I slip one finger, then two into her, thrusting slow and steady, as I work her clit with my tongue.
“Oh my God, Jefferson!”
I feel her fingers pull on my hair and her thighs tighten around my head. I lift up and look up at her.
She gasps in outrage. “Jefferson!”
“Trust me.” I lick my lips and notice that she watches the movement of my tongue intently.
“You better finish what you started, because you have a detachable showerhead, and I will absolutely lock myself in the bathroom alone.”
I chuckle and get to my feet. “Why lock the door? I’d love to watch that.”
“Because I’d rather torture you through the door with moans and oh, yeses , and calling out some hot movie star’s name when I come.”
I shake my head. “Wrong thing to say.” I reach down and grasp her wrist, tugging her to her feet. I bend and hoist her over my shoulder. With my hand spread over her ass, I start for the stairs.
“The wrong thing to say?” she teases. “Or absolutely the right thing?”
I give her ass a swat. “You think you’re in charge here, but you’re wrong.”
“Am I though?” she asks as I toss her onto the bed.
I start stripping and she props up to watch.
She licks her lips. “Because this is going exactly as I planned.”
Once I’m naked, I reach into the bedside table, pull out a condom, and roll it on. Then I climb up over her, bracing myself so I can look down at her. “It’s going exactly as I planned.”
She grins. “Well maybe it’s a really great thing that we both have the same plans now.”
I lean in and kiss her deeply for long, delicious seconds. Then I lift my head, drape one of her legs over my shoulder as she gives a surprised and delighted gasp, and then I slide home in one long, hard thrust.
We both groan.
“For the record,” she says breathlessly as I pump deep. “I didn’t come with my fingers or with your tongue.”
“I’m aware,” I tell her, thrusting hard.
She moans. Then says, “Okay just making sure you’re keeping an accurate count.”
I pick up the pace, working us both closer to an orgasm. “I’m keeping a very accurate count.”
I see the sly little smile on her face as she arches her neck, and her pussy tightens around me.
“Exactly. As. Planned,” she pants.
“Yes, Harlow,” I tell her sincerely, as I feel the start of her orgasm and know mine is only seconds away. “It is a really great thing that we have the same plans now.”