"Easy," he said.
I tilted my head up.
Harrison sucked on my bottom lip.
The orgasm had my body humming on a frequency that was otherworldly. Another moment brought clarity and focus in my mind, his lips on me, his hands on me, claiming me, guiding me. He showed me what I already knew.
That I was his and he was mine. He would do anything to make me feel cherished, protected, adored, and loved.
The intensity subsided, and I knew the pain would hit soon, but I didn't care.
It was worth it.
Thirty
Brooklyn
The memorial service for Paul turned out odd. I felt bad. No one who attended liked him except for his business manager. His bills were paid in full.
His mother faked a few words of kindness, but her heart wasn't in it.
She flew back to New Jersey the next day and said she'd be contacting a lawyer. It didn't matter. Paul left me with nothing too.
I figured it was the reason he wanted me back. So I wouldn’t find out about his money problems.
The death was ruled an accident.
I kept Paul's final words a secret from everyone except Harrison.
I was discharged from the hospital a few days later.
I didn't mind the warehouse, but Harrison said it wasn't conducive to a proper recovery. He failed to mention until later how he destroyed the place when I didn't come to him. We ended up in Justin's guesthouse.
Seth moved to the main house.
Our little crew was a strange family, but I loved having everyone around me.
Abbie stayed, too.
I healed fast.
When the cast came off, I was ready to move on.
Getting on with my life meant figuring out what to do with the house.
"Let's go see the house," I blurted out one morning as we sat around Justin's kitchen eating breakfast.
The guys all turned and looked at me.
"You sure?" Harrison asked.
"Yeah. I know we have to sell it. I just want see the finished product first. We put a lot of work into that house.“ They all exchanged looks. "Guys, I'll be fine."
The all gave me a reassuring nod.
Harrison drove us over and parked in the driveway. He put the car in park, got out, and went around the front of the car to help me out.
We stopped on the walkway in front of the house, hand in hand. We looked from one side of the house to the other.
My gaze ran over the top of the second floor; the white stone looked gray, wet from the recent rain. The dark wood awning over the front door made the outside warmer.
Harrison had suggested it, and I never asked Paul about it.
"It's beautiful," I said as we walked underneath it.
Harrison grinned as he unlocked the door.
He stood to the side.
I stepped into the foyer.
The hardwood floors were beautiful. You could see clear into the back of the house. The built-in shelving and desk in the study matched the deep rich stain of the wood floors.
I walked into the living room and turned to take it all in.
I shuffled over to the counter that separated the living room from the kitchen and peered in. Harrison's touch was in every single room.
I stepped outside.
Harrison walked up next to me.
"You want to see the guest house?" He took my hand.
My heart sank as I thought about my beautiful office and my desk. The desk Harrison built for me. We didn't have a place to put it now that we were homeless.
I shook my head.
"You okay?" he asked.
"Yeah, I just wasn't sure how I'd feel about the place." I squeezed his hand.
"How do you feel?" Harrison pulled me into his arms.
"Sad."
"You know we can keep it if you want." He kissed the top of my head. "We can figure something out."
"No. This house is way too big for us." I snuggled up close to him. "We don't need any space between us. It needs a family who will enjoy all of it."
"Maybe it will sell for more than the mortgage, give you a little seed money for your business."
"Yeah, but how are we going to live? We can't live with Justin forever." I looked up.
He ran his hand up and down my arm and pulled me close.
"We'll figure something out." Harrison walked us back inside. "You've seen enough."
I nodded.
We locked the house back up.
"Call your realtor friend and have them get on it as soon as possible." I wanted it done.
"I got you." Harrison kissed my hand and walked me back to the truck.
"That house I've been working on. I need to run by and pick something up. You mind coming along? It's just a few streets away," Harrison said as he climbed back in his truck.
"Sure. I'd love to see what you've been working on all week." I took one last look at the house.
Five minutes later, we pulled up in front of a two-story mid-century modern home. My heartbeat sped up as I surveyed the property with its warm colors and bright green grass.
The house was an array of brown woods and black and gray steel.
The windows told me who designed it. It had Justin all over it, but it felt like Harrison, too. The water elements were all Harrison. It fit in the neighborhood but stood out, too. Trees shaded the front of the lot.
"You coming?" Harrison motioned.
I followed him up the rectangle stone walkway set in a shallow movin stream of water.
Harrison pushed open the dark wood door made of two-by-four planks stacked horizontally. He had stained each in a different shade of brown, the boards picked up all the subtle accents of the rest of the house.
"Nice touch," I said as I ran my hand down the smooth wood.
I followed him inside and stopped two steps in.
I gasped.
The place wasn't breathtaking; it actually took my breath away—the aesthetics, the feel, all the minor details were carefully thought out. And some of them were my ideas.
I blinked away tears.
I covered my face with my hands. When I looked again, I folded my hands across my chest. I couldn't speak.
Heat flushed through my body.
Harrison walked farther into the house. He palmed the banister on the wooden staircase.
My gaze followed the stairs up to the opened loft, and the exposed beams in the ceiling.
My eyes narrowed.
I spotted the structure in the backyard and ran to the window.
I laid my hands flat on the window and peered at the top floor that was all glass.
Harrison cheated on my house by building a better and more me version of my own house.
I shivered, covered my face, and sobbed.
"Baby, what's wrong?" Harrison was at my side in seconds. He hated to see me cry, but these emotional outbursts were the price he had to pay for demanding I be open to him in every way.
"Nothing." I shook my head and shivered. I buried my head in his chest and cried more.
"Why are you crying?" he asked.
"I don't know." I tried to pull away, but he wouldn't allow it.
"Brooklyn," he said in his dominant voice.
"This place is fantastic,” I said as I wiped my tears on his t-shirt.
"Then why are you crying?" he asked again.
"I don't know. It just so beautiful," I cried out. "It's the exact home I would have wanted."
"Wow. That's a relief." He held me at arm’s length. "Because it is your home."
"What?" I blinked.
"This is our home,” he said again.
"Um." My stomach flipped. "What do you mean?"
"Brooklyn." He shook his head.
I wasn't playing dumb. I didn't get it. When did we build a home, and how could he build a home so perfect for us without me knowing about it.
I knew the answer. It was obvious.
No one knew me better than Harrison
.
"Oh, my God." My hands flew over my mouth. I spun around in the living room a few times.
"Finally, she gets it," Harrison said and laughed.
I ran to him and threw my arms around his neck.
He lifted me, and my legs locked behind his back.
I kissed him a thousand times before jumping down and walking through every room.
He followed me down the front hallway to the master suite on the first floor.
No stairs and no skylight. Thank God.
I threw open the double doors to the bathroom and squealed at the large white-footed tub under a frosted glass archway.
The closet was as big as my apartment in Brooklyn.
"Pup, slow down," Harrison said as I ran back the other way and took the steps two at a time. Two bedrooms with bathrooms on the second floor branched off from the game room and loft that looked down into the formal living room. I skipped down the stairs and paused to kiss Harrison as he walked me over to the sunken family room. I took a lap around the kitchen and met Harrison at the back door.
He opened the door and showed me his workroom. I glanced at it, but my eyes focused on the steps in the back.
"What are you waiting for?" he asked.
"Where do the stairs lead to?" I raised my eyebrows.
"Go and find out." He laughed.
I grabbed his hand and dragged him up with me. I stopped at the top of the stairs. My desk from the other house sat in the middle of the all glass room.
A small built-in kitchenette sat in the corner with a coffeemaker and a few mugs. Another smaller desk and chair with a printer sat in the corner. I could come in tomorrow and get to work.
I walked over to the design desk. I leaned over it to adjust the angle.
Harrison walked up behind me. He pressed himself against my ass.
"You like it, pup?" he asked.
"So much."
He pressed harder.
My throat hitched as his hardness found my center.
"You know the first time I saw you near this desk, I wanted to fuck you on it," Harrison whispered in my ear. He laid small kisses across the back of my neck.
I moaned.
"Someone might see us." I didn't care. I would let him fuck me in the middle of Highland Park Village if he told me to.
"I thought of that, too." He opened a drawer and pulled out a remote. He pushed a button, and shades descended on all sides.
"Now, no one can see us." Harrison put the remote back in the drawer and slid his hands down my side and rested on my hips.
"Another nice touch." I grinned as I ground my ass on his hardness.
Harrison reached under my skirt and cupped my pussy.
"This is nice to touch." He fingered my pussy. I leaned back against his chest and relished the attention.
He pulled my panties down.
He unbuckled his pants and pulled himself out. He pushed his cock through my folds.
I was so wet and ready for him.
Although we messed around, we hadn't had sex since before the accident. We hadn't played at all.
"This is going to be rough." Harrison thrust between my thighs. "I fucking need to know it’s okay."
I looked over my shoulder.
The head of his cock rubbed against my clit. His skin hot.
"Why are you asking me?" I gripped the desk as my body shuddered. "I am yours to do with what you want."
"Always?" He pushed himself into me and groaned. Nothing between us.
I sucked in a breath and moaned as he filled me up. The desk dug in the front of my thighs. I loved the way he felt inside me.
He yanked my hair and pulled me up against his chest.
"I can't hear you, pup pup," Harrison said.
"Always and forever," I said.
"Good girl." Harrison thrust into me again. He kept up a fast, punishing pace that had me moaning and whimpering with every thrust.
Harrison fucked me and fucked me and fucked me some more.
His cock missed me.
Our bodies missed each other.
"Yeah, baby. Open for me," Harrison said as he snaked a hand between my thighs to pound into me at another angle.
"Oh, my God." His cock felt good. He hit that spot that made me see stars, but I didn't want to go into subspace. I didn't want to miss a beat. I slammed back into him, and he roared.
"Stop," he screamed, gripped his hands around my neck, and pulled me back against him.
Tears popped into my eyes.
He squeezed his fingers around my neck.
I went limp. He turned my face toward him. His fierce expression searched my face.
"Oh, fuck, Brooklyn." He continued to move with longer and slower strokes.
I squirmed in his arms.
"You keep doing that, and I'm not going to last long. I want to last for you, pup." He panted into my neck.
"Oh, my God." I gripped his hands on my neck.
His words wrapped around my core and tried to squeeze an orgasm of pure emotion and pent-up sexual energy out of me, but I held it in. I knew if I let go, I would be flying, and if I had to fly, I didn't want to fly alone.
He picked up the pace as he pushed my face back down on the desk.
I gripped the sides and held on.
Harrison punctuated his thrust with growls and fucks.
I fell under, faster and faster, and the only thing tethering me to this world was the sound of his aggression. He slammed his hand on the desk, and I grabbed it. He grabbed my neck from behind and spoke into my ear.
"You ready, sub?" he asked.
"Yes, Sir," I grunted.
"You going to growl for me, puppy." He growled.
I shook my head and banged it against the glass top.
"Now, do it now," he yelled.
"Yes . . ." My words got caught as he slammed into me one last time. All I could do was growl.
The orgasm was intense and left me disoriented, and like my king, my protector, he had me. Harrison pulled me up, turned me around, and pulled me into his arms. He kissed me as I clung to him.
He was right. It wasn't nice and sweet. It was hard and rough, and it felt so good. It tightened our bond.
His aggression didn't scare me; it soothed me. He said I had salvaged his broken pieces, but I didn't put them back together. I forged them with my own. It created a bond that no one could destroy.
We had salvaged each other.
Gratuitious Sex Scene
Brooklyn
I stretched and opened my eyes. The heat in our bed remained. I was surprised. Harrison usually got up well before I did. I rolled over.
"Good morning, pup." Harrison gaze scanned my body.
"Good morning." I stretched again and rolled over to burrow myself between him and the bed. I leaned in and kissed his chest, snaking my tongue out to taste him.
"You getting up or going back to bed?" He ran his hand down my back and grabbed my ass.
"Is there some reason I need to get up?" I peeked up at him.
"No. Stay in bed all day if you want." He rolled away.
I clung to him. "Stay with me."
"I can't. I have work to do." He brought my hand up to his lips and kissed it.
I had finished another client's kitchen remodel the day before, so I had a little break between projects.
I had almost no lasting effects from the accident. My body was sore this morning, but it wasn't from Harrison exactly.
He asked me to work out with him a couple of times a week, and it was brutal. Tie me up, spank me, hit me with a riding crop, I could handle. Circuit training while running the Katy Trail at seven a.m. was real torture.
I fell back on the bed.
"You could help me, though," he said.
"I can? With what?" I perked up.
"Come on down, and I'll show you." Harrison stood up and scratched his junk while he stretched. He slid down his boxer briefs as he walked toward the bathroom.
I admired the view
. His body was ridiculous.
He came out a few minutes later dressed in jeans and a t-shirt and slippers. He looked so good. He kneeled on the bed and kissed me.
It was how he usually woke me up. His tasted minty fresh. I slipped my tongue into his mouth to taste more, but he ended the kiss. It was strange; usually, he would make out in bed with me before he left.
Had the honeymoon period worn off?
We had been living together in our new house for six weeks. And although we had plenty of sex—hot sex, rough sex, and dirty sex—we hadn't played.
I opened my mouth but didn't have a chance to say anything before he grabbed his phone off the nightstand and headed toward the door.
"Take your time and meet me in the work room," Harrison yelled from the hallway.
I laid in bed, my thoughts all over the place.
Stop second-guessing everything.
Harrison loved me.
I threw the covers off and used the bathroom. I brush my hair and my teeth. I pulled on a pair of leggings and one of Harrison's sweatshirts, and went to find him.
I padded into the kitchen.
He left a cup of coffee on the counter in my favorite mug. He did it every morning, and it made me smile every day.
I sipped on the hot creamy liquid as I slipped on my flip-flops sitting near the door and went outside.
It was cold. I ran to the door of the workroom and knocked before slipping inside.
Harrison sat at his desk, sketching.
I leaned over his shoulder to see what he was working on, pressing my body up against his. The workroom usually had two or three other people working in it on any given day. We had a separate gate on the side of the property so his team could access the place without coming through the house.
It was quiet this morning.
"You come to distract me?" Harrison asked.
"Yep," I said and kissed the back of his neck.
"Give me a second." He made a few more swipes with his pencil.
I worked harder to distract him. I reached down and ran my hand over his cock. He grew hard in my hand.
"You are impossible." He spun in his chair, took my coffee out of my hands, and wrapped his arms around me. He squeezed me tight.
I squealed from being manhandled. I loved having his undivided attention.
He nuzzled my neck with his nose and kissed me, tasted my skin.
Salvage Him (Highland Park Chronicles Book 1) Page 24
