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I do a gut check, ask myself if I should tackle Harlow, the emotional Mt. Everest. But I’m already sure that walking away isn’t an option. This woman is under my skin. If we’re skirting the issue of love after less than a week together, I doubt we can spend the whole summer wrapped around each other without the subject coming up again. Already, I want more from her than just a good time.
Yeah, that’s a new one for me, too. But my instinct tells me I’m in the right place with the right person. Even Trace and Makuahine like Harlow. Maybe Fate dropped her in my lap. I don’t know, but I’ve made a lot of decisions in life by listening to my gut. It’s always served me well, and I see no reason to change now.
“Hmm,” I answer noncommittally.
“What does that mean? Are you saying your heart does?” Her tone is skeptical. “If it did, you’d already be madly in love and married to your soul mate.”
She sounds vindicated, as if her argument proves something to me about myself.
“I was married to my career for a dozen years. A pro athlete’s life isn’t an easy one. We’re more than compensated for that, but I didn’t want to drag a wife and kids through my absence half the year, the press and the injuries, the uprooting every time I might have been traded to another team. Now?” I shrug. “I want a personal life. I want something meaningful.”
“Well, good luck with that.” Harlow’s cynical tone tells me she doesn’t like the idea of me in love with another woman.
It’s not much but she hassomefeelings for me. But I’m greedy; I want more.
When we make it home, she dumps her purse on the bar in the kitchen, then takes her phone and heads upstairs without a word. She’s perturbed and preoccupied. Yeah, I’m getting better at reading her moods. The fact she hasn’t mentioned sex tells me I’m making her think, maybe even making her feel. She doesn’t want me close while she’s feeling vulnerable.
Too bad.
After climbing the stairs to my bedroom, I strip out of every stitch I’m wearing, then stroll down the hall just in time to see her come out of the bathroom with a fresh face and an oversized T-shirt that saysGirls Do Shit Better.
When she sees me, her eyes go wide. “What are you doing?”
“Coming to see you.”
“You’ve seen me.” She gestures to her messy bun and her makeshift nightgown. “Nothing you haven’t seen before.”
“Take your shirt off.”
Harlow sighs. “I’m tired. We’ll fuck tomorrow.”
I don’t want her against her will, but I think she’s hungry for me. She’s eyeing me like I’m a piece of chocolate cake and she’s been on a long, strict diet.
“All right. I’ll just be in the shower masturbating to thoughts of you. If you change your mind…”
She gapes at me with wide eyes.
It’s a mic drop moment, so I turn and pad down the hall—bare ass and all—to my bathroom and turn on the shower. I can’t guarantee that my taunt will bring her running, but I have high hopes.
I’ve barely stepped in the shower, soaped up my hands, and started stroking myself with a long groan when she appears in the doorway, looking breathless. She stares at me through the floor-to-ceiling glass. It’s fogged up but not so much that she can’t see my hand working and my dick responding.
For a long, silent moment she says nothing, does nothing. Just stares.
I can’t let that stand. Time to put on a show.
With my other hand, I soap up my chest and trail my fingertips down my ridged abs, then lower. Finally I cup my heavy testicles and throw my head back with a growl of need. Then I start chanting her name.
“Harlow, baby. Ah…yeah. That’s it. Fucking stroke me. I’m so hard for you.”
When I risk a glance at her, I see she’s stepped closer. She’s flushing. Her chest works up and down with choppy breaths.
I smile and I look right into her eyes. “When I get inside you, I’m going to fuck you so slow and hard, baby. Your toes are going to curl and you’re going to scream your throat raw as we come together. Then I’ll do it all over again.”
At her sides, her fists clench. She presses her lips together and grinds her jaw as if she’s trying beyond hard to resist.
“This doesn’t mean anything,” she vows as she yanks the shirt over her head and stomps to the shower door.
She enters the stall as a cloud of steam exits. I take her by the shoulders and drag her under the spray, fist in her hair, and bring her lips to mine. It’s all I can do not to inhale her with my kiss.
