by Brooks, Abby
Or off her.
So much for having room in his pants.
And wouldn’t you know, that was the moment Willow came bounding into the kitchen, her hair swept into a messy bun, wearing the teeny-tiniest pair of shorts and a loose—though slightly sheer—white top. Her long legs seemed even longer in a pair of high-heeled ankle boots. As fantastic as she looked in her outfit, all Harry could think about was getting her out of those clothes.
He wanted her naked body pinned underneath him.
He wanted to slide into her and watch her eyes widen in a combination of pain and ecstasy as he buried himself.
Shit. At that rate, he wasn’t going to be able to stand for the entire day. He adjusted himself under the table and did his best to focus on his brother until his penis was under control.
“You ready?” she asked.
“More than you know,” he replied, doing his best to ignore the questioning look Ian shot him.
Juliet turned off the water in the sink. “You guys go have a good day. I’ll finish up these dishes.” She met Willow’s eyes. “Oh, and Willow? Harry can have you today, but tomorrow, you and I have a mani-pedi appointment. Because, you know, I’m getting married in a couple days and the whole reason you’re here is to be with me because you’re my maid of honor. You know. Nothing big.”
Willow rushed across the room to hug her friend. “I can’t wait. We’ll make a day of it. We’ll get our nails done. And our hair. And we’ll have some drinks. Maybe go shopping. Whatever you want!”
Harry knew the whole reason Willow was in Bliss was for the wedding. He knew he shouldn’t feel selfish about who she spent her time with. He knew he should be grateful that Juliet had been as cool as she had about Willow spending so much time with him in the first place. That didn’t change the fact that he was, in fact, disappointed to realize tomorrow was for Juliet and not for him.
All the more reason to make today memorable, he told himself as he led Willow into the bright morning.
“Nice,” Willow said as she stepped off the porch and bounded toward the Jeep he kept around for days he didn’t want to take the GTO out. “I was kind of afraid you were gonna bring the car you restored. I mean, it’d make a great story, learning to drive in a car like that, but I didn’t want to be the one who, I don’t know, shredded the gear box or something.”
“Shredded the gear box?”
“I don’t know. I thought that sounded appropriately car-ish and dreadful.”
“Sure. Let’s pretend any of that makes sense.” Harry smiled broadly. “It’s gorgeous again. I figured we could take the soft top off the Jeep if you want.”
“You said it’s the best feeling ever, right? Top down, sun shining, and music up?”
“All while sitting next to a beautiful woman…” Harry added, mostly because he liked the way she scrunched up her nose when he embarrassed her.
“Or a hot guy.” Willow bit her lip. “Works either way, I guess.”
Harry opened the passenger door. “I’ll drive us to a parking lot, where there’s lots of room for you to practice…”
Willow silenced him by stepping into his space, pressing her perky tits against his chest and looking up at him with those big blue eyes. She hooked a finger into his belt loop and pulled him even closer, as if simply being near him wasn’t good enough.
He slid his hands up her cheeks and into her hair, angling her face so that when he brought his lips to hers, it was the most perfect angle for the most perfect kiss with the most perfect girl on the most perfect day. She opened her mouth to him, releasing his belt loop to drag her hands up his back, where she curved her fingers and dug ever so slightly into his shoulders. It was intense, not at all painful, and hot as hell.
“Careful,” he said, only pulling back far enough to give himself room to speak. “Or you might not get that driving lesson today.”
“Oh I’ll get a driving lesson,” she whispered, trailing her fingers down his back. “But I also fully intend to get something else you promised me last night.” And then she grabbed his ass with both hands and gave a little squeeze. “Just as I thought. Perfection.”
Two could play at that game. He grabbed her ass and pulled her toward him. “No way. This right here in my hands is perfection.” He slid his palms down until he felt the skin of her upper thighs. “And these are the creme de la creme of female legs.” He leaned close to whisper into her ear. “I can’t wait to have them wrapped around me.”
Without waiting for a response, he pulled away and held the door open. He helped her into the passenger seat and hoped he’d managed to get her as hot and bothered as she’d gotten him. One look at her heaving chest and hooded gaze as he climbed into the driver's seat told him he didn’t have to worry. She most definitely wanted him as much as he wanted her.
They filled the ride to the empty parking lot with conversation about family. From the sound of it, Willow’s parents were incredibly supportive of her life as a dancer, and all the sacrifices that came with it.
“I don’t know what they would have done if I’d turned out to be a normal person,” she said, her elbow resting on the back of his seat, her fingers twirling in his hair.
“A normal person?” He turned to her, laughing. “You aren’t a normal person?”
“No, silly. I’m not. I’m a dancer and we, as a rule, are very much abnormal.”
“I mean, I see two arms, two legs—a great set of legs, might I add. You breathe. Your heart beats. I bet you’ve got dreams and wishes and desires somewhere in there. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that you sleep at night and are most active during the day. Sounds pretty normal to me.”
“Right. All of that is true. But, the sacrifice. The dedication. The hours and hours in the studio. I mean, my job is literally to chase perfection, knowing the whole time that perfection is unattainable.” Willow swallowed hard and shrank into her seat, wrapping one arm around her stomach. “There’s a statistic, and who knows if it’s true, but they say for every one day I don’t take a class, it takes two days to get back to where I was. So, I’m always pushing. Always working. It’s a good thing I love to dance.”
“That must be really stressful. Feeling outside of society. Feeling like you can’t take even a single day off.”
“Eh.” She waved her hand and straightened. “It can be. But not today. Today I’m sitting next to a good-looking guy, with the sun beaming down and the ocean doing its beautiful thing, what with all the glinting and glittering, and I’m finally going to learn how to drive!”
Harry pulled into the parking lot a few minutes later and traded seats with Willow. “Okay. So. Go is the right pedal. Stop is the left pedal. This big wheel in your hands points the car in the direction you want it to go. Just be sure not to point the car at anything that will dent the bumper and we should be good.”
“Harry! This is serious! You’ve gotta give me real instructions.”
“Sweetheart, those are the real instructions. This thing is an automatic, so other than go, stop, and steer, there isn’t much more to it than that. Just put the car in gear here…” He showed her the gearshift. “Then very slowly give her some gas until you get the feel for how to work the pedals.”
Somehow, sitting behind the wheel of his Jeep, she seemed even tinier than usual, a look of utter concentration increasing the intensity in her eyes. “Do I use one foot or two?” she asked.
“What?”
“Does each pedal get a foot, or do I just use one foot to work them both?”
Harry couldn’t help but laugh. “You just use your right foot. Don’t worry so much, Willow. You’ll be fine. You’ll see.”
A few minutes later, Willow was laughing maniacally as she maneuvered the Jeep around the lot at a snail’s pace. “I can’t believe I’m really driving!”
Harry chuckled in response. Her max speed up to that point had been thirteen miles per hour. “You think you’re ready to hit the road?”
Willow stomped on the bra
ke and the Jeep lurched to a stop, flinging them both forward against their seatbelts. She twisted in her seat to face him. “You think I’m ready? Wait. Isn’t that illegal? Do you think I can do it?” She turned and put both hands on the wheel, giving a curt nod as she looked out the front window. “I think I can do it.”
“Yes,” Harry said, laughing and shaking his head. “I think you’re ready and I totally think you can do it. And yes, it’s illegal, but hey. Sometimes you gotta live on the edge, you know?”
Willow gripped the wheel, flared her fingers, then gripped the wheel again. “Okay. Let’s do this. I’m at your command. You just tell me what to do and how to do it.”
Of all the words she could have chosen, she had to go with those. His cock jumped to attention, reminding him of all the delicious things he intended to command her to do.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Willow
Harry was right. There really was no joy quite like driving with the top down, the sun shining, and the radio blasting. By the time he guided her back to his house, exhilaration was too small a word for what she was feeling. After coming to a stop at the end of his driveway, she sat for a minute, staring at the controls. She knew how to turn the Jeep off in theory, but having never actually done it before, she wasn’t comfortable with the order of things. With Harry’s instruction, she shifted into park and killed the engine.
As soon as the car was off, she plucked the keys from the ignition, unfastened her seatbelt and climbed over the console into Harry’s lap. Straddling him, she kissed him long and hard, trying her best to show how much she wanted to pick up where they left off the night before.
“I’m gonna have to let you drive more often,” he said when she came up for air.
“No complaints here, although I have something very different on my mind right now.”
The way Harry kissed her, the way he clutched her body, the way his erection pressed against her proved to Willow that once again, their minds were following the same paths. She ground her hips forward, thrilled by how hard he was, so turned on by the way he groaned into her mouth at the change in pressure. Without breaking their kiss, Harry lifted her enough to undo his seatbelt and, with a little finagling, managed to get them both out of the Jeep without putting her down.
Willow wrapped her legs around him, loving the way he felt, trusting him with all of her. He didn’t flinch under her weight, not even a little. He carried her the short distance to the front door, and while she busied herself kissing and licking the skin at his neck and just under his ear, he managed to get the keys from her hand and unlock the door. And then, without pretense or preamble, he walked her right up the stairs and ever so gently laid her on his bed.
He straightened and smiled down at her. “You look like you belong there.”
“I do belong here.” She spread her legs. “And you belong here.” The words were out of her mouth before she had a chance to rethink them.
Who the hell said such a thing?
Certainly not her.
Not once.
Not ever.
Harry growled his approval. “I need you naked. Now. Take off your clothes.”
The change in him was subtle, but it was there. His voice held a tone of command she hadn’t heard in him before, a tone she—surprisingly—found incredibly hot. She sat up and drew her shirt over her head, baring the pink lace bra she’d picked for Harry. One she’d taken more than her fair share of time deciding over.
“The shorts next.”
Willow got onto her knees and held his gaze while she opened the top button on her shorts and undid the zipper. She slid them off her hips before lying back and slipping them off, tossing them over the edge of the bed. They landed with a thwack and the metallic sound of the button striking the wood floor.
Harry eyed her hungrily. “You’re hot as hell. You know that? The world is a better place with you in it.”
Willow squirmed with pleasure, suddenly ravenous for his touch. “I know my world is better with you in it.” She pushed up on her elbows. “Now, please, take off your shirt so I can get my hands on you.”
“Oh, no. It doesn’t work that way. You’re at my command, remember? Not the other way around.”
Willow remembered her words to him in the Jeep and smiled. “That is what I said, isn’t it?”
“Lucky for you, I happen to be feeling a little overdressed.” Harry pulled his shirt over his head and need clenched in Willow’s belly as the muscles in his torso twisted with his movement. His skin, bronzed by the sun, begged her fingers to trail down from the soft spot at his throat, through the ridges of his ribs and abdomen, and wrap around his cock. “Lie back.”
She did as she was told and Harry lowered himself on top of her, his mouth barely grazing hers before he worked his way down over her breasts, then to her stomach, finally stopping between her legs.
“As gorgeous as these things are, they’re gonna have to come off.” Without another warning, Harry hooked his fingers through her panties, hastily pulling them off and running his hands back up her inner thighs. Willow arched her back and burned for more of him. She wasn’t in the mood for foreplay. She wanted him inside her, wanted—no, needed—to know what it was to be joined with him.
At least until he ran his tongue up her slit, circled her clit, and slipped a finger inside. Suddenly, she was awash in so much sensation she could barely hold a coherent thought in her mind. She moaned and stretched her arms overhead, grabbing his pillow and tightening her hands into fists. He very purposefully led her toward an orgasm—stroking and licking while massaging a spot deep inside her with his fingers—only to back off each time she thought she might fall over the edge.
“Oh, Harry,” she moaned, tension coursing through her body. “I want to come so much.”
“I can tell. Look at you, arching your back. Trying to get me deeper inside you. You greedy thing.” He went back to work, bringing her to the edge then pulling away just as she thought she had no choice but to give in. “But I don’t want you to come. Not yet. I want to make you feel so good you go crazy. Drive you to the precipice, but I want your first orgasm to be on my dick.”
His words almost sent her spiraling into oblivion, but she held on. “Then give me your dick because I’m tired of waiting.”
“Silly girl. Did you forget who's in charge here?” Harry lowered his face to her clit and sucked. Hard. Willow squealed and pleasure rolled through her.
Could he really be so perfect?
A complete gentleman during the day and then so damn dominant in bed? Giving her such intense pleasure—a selfless act—yet claiming that pleasure as his and his alone. Staying in control of her, commanding when and how she could give in to her own body. It was so fucking good.
And then, all the sensations were gone. Chest heaving, Willow opened her eyes in time to see Harry kick off his pants. “It should be illegal for you to wear clothes,” she said, as he lowered his boxers and his cock sprung free. Her eyes went wide and she ached for his contact, feeling incomplete without him inside her.
“Take off your bra,” he ordered as he grabbed a condom from a drawer in his bedside table. She watched as he tore open the foil packet and slid the condom into place. “Your bra, Willow. Off. Now.”
She never, not ever, thought she would enjoy being told what to do in bed. In fact, she’d always considered women who did to be weak and uncertain. But that was before she heard the hard edge in Harry’s voice. Before his eyes claimed her body as his and his words commanded that she give herself to him. To relinquish her control, to trust him to take care of her needs, her wants, her every desire.
She realized, as she reached around to unhook her bra, that she did trust him. And she knew without a doubt that not only would Harrison Moore take care of her to the best of his ability, but that his best was heads and tails above the rest. She gave in, sitting up on her knees, waiting for his next instruction.
Harry sank onto the bed, his lips on hers, his h
ands on her body, and before she knew it, she was prone, with him above her, his cock straining toward her.
“Do you want it?” he asked.
“Yes,” she replied, her voice a whisper.
“Ask me for it.”
Normally, Willow would dissolve into nervous giggles, never one for talking during sex. But with Harry’s eyes holding her gaze, making her feel strong, she didn’t even falter. “May I please have your dick inside me?”
He groaned as he held himself in one hand, angling his crown toward her opening and with one firm, slow thrust, he slid inside her. The orgasms that he had teased into existence threatened to overwhelm her, all of them bearing down on her as he began to move. “Harry,” she said, his name almost a cry for help. “I can’t hold it back anymore. I have to come.” She whimpered as he thrust inside again.
“Don’t hold it back. Come for me.”
She didn’t have to think twice about obeying that particular order. She shattered around him, crying out, one orgasm blending into the next, and on into the next. She had trusted him to take care of her, trusted him to meet her needs. Trusted him with the most delicate part of herself and boy, had that ever paid out.
Harry gained speed as his own orgasm built and Willow couldn’t believe it as her body answered his, her muscles clenching again and again as wave after wave of pleasure rocketed through her. Harry finished with a shudder, a primal sound of satisfaction filling the room while Willow quivered around him, her fourth orgasm bringing his name to her lips.
Nothing had ever felt so right.
No one had ever felt so good.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Harry
Harry collapsed next to Willow and pulled her into his arms. When she snuggled in, he rolled onto his back so she could rest her head on his chest. “That was everything I hoped it would be and more,” he said, lifting his head to kiss her hair. Her smell, her taste, the way she gave herself to him—holding back her orgasms when he could feel the tension thrumming through her body…it was intoxicating.
