But as I imagine what their wedding would look like, I try and shift my focus to my own wedding to Harrison. Suddenly, it doesn’t seem like a crazy, outlandish idea. It sounds like something...I want.
“What’s that gleam in your eye about?” Bex asks mischievously.
“You’ve just...made some pretty good points,” I smile, “About the whole getting-married thing, I mean.”
“Well, now I know where to aim the bouquet toss!” she cries, elated.
We wrap our arms around each other, laughing and sniffling and beside ourselves with happiness. I can’t say that I’m not a little overwhelmed by the idea of marriage and babies all at once, but it’s a good, excited kind of overwhelmed.
Now, I just need to figure out how to fill Harrison in on all of this...
Chapter Nine
By the end of the day, Bex seems to have the last loose ends of her wedding planning all tied up. I have to admit, I was skeptical about planning such an important day in so little time, but my best friend is on top of it. I guess that when the essential details are all in line—like marrying someone you adore, for example—the rest can fall into place as it will. I’ve officially lost the capacity to think about Bex and Charlie’s nuptials without getting all misty-eyed.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come stay at my place?” Bex asks, as we stand on the stoop of my Alphabet City walkup.
“Don’t worry about me,” I tell her, “I like my little shoebox just fine.”
“But won’t you be lonely without your soon-to-be-husband?” she teases me.
“Oh my god,” I blush, “You can’t start with that already—”
“Sorry, sorry,” she says, “I’m just so excited for you two, is all.”
“Let’s just focus on your wedding for the time being, OK?” I grin, giving Bex a big hug, “I’m gonna go hit the hay. This jet lag is about to sink its claws right into me.”
We say goodbye and I hike up the six flights of stairs to my apartment. I’d forgotten what a workout living in New York City can be. Between the endless walking and the stairs upon stairs, it’s no wonder New Yorkers are so slim and gorgeous. I love a nice long run or a yoga session as much as anyone, but incidental exercise? Yes, please.
I’m happy for the city noise outside my window as I settle into my little home. If it was too quiet, I fear that I’d feel even lonelier for my other half. I’ll always remember being single in New York as an intensely lonesome time. There’s something heartbreaking about knowing that an entire city full of people is bustling around you, yet you’re still on your own. But now that there’s someone out there who I love more than anything, the rowdy noise of New York is just a good distraction as I wait for a week to pass so I can see him again.
My need for indulgence gets the best of me as my appetite tugs at my stomach. This whole eating-for-two thing is a blessing and a curse, that’s for sure. A check in the plus column, though, is not feeling guilty about ordering far too much food from my favorite Italian restaurant, as I do the moment I get home.
I’ve been getting more careful with each passing day, where taking care of my changing body is concerned. The morning sickness comes in fits and spurts, and my breasts are pretty consistently sore. But other than that, I haven’t noticed too many changes yet. I observe myself in the bedroom mirror, turning this way and that, looking for evidence of the new addition to my little family. What am I going to look like in three months’ time? Or six? Will my body ever be the same after it takes on this incredible challenge?
The enormity of what’s about to happen to me takes hold, unexpectedly. I have to lower myself down onto the floor below my bedroom window, my back pressed firmly against the wall. In six months’ time, I’m going to be a mother. There will be a tiny little person in my life who I’ll have to care for with everything I have. I’m suddenly beset with a new, unwelcome worry...what if I’m just not ready? What if I don’t know what to do when the baby comes? What if I’m just not very good at being a mom?
A rush of butterflies moves through me, and my hands fly to my stomach. I stare down at myself in wonder. I know it’s too early for the baby to be kicking, but I could have sworn I just felt...No. It’s only in my mind, I’m sure. Still, there’s a connection between us, me and this unknown little person, that’s growing stronger with every passing day.
“Who are you going to be?” I whisper, rubbing my hands along my belly. Is it going to be a boy or girl? Will it have my olive skin and chestnut curls or Harrison’s blue eyes and sandy locks? Will it want a big wheel on the double or will its life’s passion be something completely outside the realm that Harrison and I know so well?
Will it love me as much as I already love it?
The door buzzer rings out, scaring me half to death. That food got here right quick, didn’t it? I hoist myself up and buzz open the front door, waiting patiently as the poor delivery man climbs all six flights. I always overtip the brave men and women who come bearing treats, here. After a slog like that, they deserve it. After a few moments, there’s an eager knock on the door, and I swing it open excitedly, already imagining my delicious bounty.
“Thank you so...” I trail off, staring up into my visitor’s face.
“Thank you?” Harrison laughs, standing before my door in all his beautiful glory, “I was expecting a ‘Hello, lover’ but I’ll take it.”
I launch myself at him, wrapping my arms tightly around his shoulders. At once, my world comes back into alignment. At once, everything makes sense again.
“What are you doing here?” I ask breathlessly, “You weren’t supposed to come for another week!”
“I hope you don’t mind too terribly,” he smiles, taking my face in his hands, “There was just no way I could stay away from you for that long.”
“But what about your training?” I ask, pulling him inside and closing the door.
“McClain will just have to understand,” he shrugs, “Racing is important to me, but you’re my priority, Siena. I hope you know that.”
“Do I,” I laugh, reaching up to tousle his dirty blonde hair. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
“I can’t believe that this is your place,” he laughs, looking around my unthinkably tiny apartment, “I think this is the size of my guest bathroom back home.”
“Yeah, yeah, rub it in,” I drawl, “It’s served its purpose well enough. It just looks tiny because you’re eight feet tall, or something.”
“Ah,” he says, placing his hands on my hips, “So this place isn’t used to accommodating big, strong men, is it?”
“You know my dating record,” I say, cocking an eyebrow, “So you know the answer to that, full well.”
“I suppose I do,” he says, “I just like knowing that I stand out from all the men clamoring for your attention.”
“I guess,” I sigh, jokingly, as his arms circle around my waist.
“Oh dear,” he growls, planting a kiss just below my ear, “Have I fallen out of your good graces already? I’ll have to find a way to fix that, won’t I?”
I gasp as Harrison pushes me up against the wall of the studio, pinning my hands up over my head. A coil of anticipation unwinds in my core, the sudden nearness of him is a happy shock. He brings his mouth to mine, parting my lips and kissing me deeply, urgently. The taste of him is better than I remember, every time I go more than a day without savoring it. My hands run down along his powerful body, skirting over pecs and abs, each crystal clear and hard as rock.
“Couldn’t last a week without this, huh?” I grin, running my hands over the staggering rise in his jeans.
“Are you kidding?” he says, sliding his hands up under my airy blouse, “I couldn’t go a day without touching you.”
I let a contented sigh slide from my lips as he pushes up under my bra and cups my sweetly sore breasts in his hands. I’ve wanted him more than ever, lately. And our briefest of absences has only made my heart grow fonder—and my body hungrier—for him. I slip o
ut of my blouse and hurriedly unclasp my bra, letting my full breasts spill out. With a sharp breath, Harrison lifts me off the hardwood floor and pins me against the wall with his powerful hips.
“God, I love that,” I moan, as Harrison wraps his lips around first one nipple, then the other, sucking just hard enough.
“Tell me what you want,” he breathes, kneading my tits with eager hands, “Tell me what you like.”
“I like everything you do,” I laugh, clutching his shoulders as he pulls me away from the wall. In two long strides, we’ve crossed the tiny room to my bed. Harrison lays me out across the narrow mattress, ripping his navy blue tee from his rippling back.
“I just want to give you everything you want,” he tells me, lowering himself onto me.
“I...I want...” I stammer, my mind scrambled with lust, “I want to feel...your mouth...”
“Where?” he whispers naughtily, taking the lobe of my ear gently between his teeth.
“Everywhere,” I gasp, running my hands over his sculpted, denim-clad ass.
My wish, apparently, is Harrison’s command. He kisses me deeply down my long neck, running his hands along my arms. His lips close around the ridge of my collarbone, work down the space between my round breasts. I writhe beneath him as his tongue glances against the skin stretched across my ribs, and forget how to breathe as his hands find my stomach. I glance down at Harrison as he kisses me there, his eyes closed in bliss. If only he knew what was happening inside of me right now, what miracle was taking place just beneath those full, gorgeous lips of his. What will he say, when he finally finds out? How will he kiss me, then? What will change between us?
“You are so beautiful, Siena...” he rasps, tugging my cotton shorts away, “All I want is to make you happy. I’m like a man possessed for you.”
“You’re not bored of me yet?” I ask. My tone is joking, but the question is real. Before me, Harrison’s life was chock full of raging parties and one night stands. This monogamy thing is new to him, as it were.
He looks up at me, laying before him in nothing but a pair of panties. His gaze is baffled, bordering on hurt. “You don’t really think I could ever get bored of you?” he asks.
“No...Of course not...” I cover, “It’s just...Your life has been so exciting. I don’t want to keep you from anything. I don’t want you to miss out on anything, for my sake.”
“Siena,” he says, pulling me up to sitting before him, my legs spread wide, “I won’t have you talking about yourself that way. As if you were some kind of burden to me. I’d have to be out of my goddamned mind to even think about my old life, now that you’re here with me. Do you know how lonely it is, a life like the one I used to have? The same parties, the same drugs, the same nameless sex...and all of it meaning absolutely nothing. This is what I want, right here. One second of what we have together is more exciting, more incredible than a lifetime of drunken ragers. You know that, don’t you?”
“I do,” I whisper, taking his face in my hands and kissing him joyously, reverently. Maybe it isn’t so ridiculous to dream about marrying this man—starting a family and sharing a life together. I never expected it to come so soon, but here he is, the person I want to be with. All I have to do is ask him. All we both have to do is say yes.
But my words are knocked from my mind as he lays his hands against my sensitive inner thighs. A ripple of longing passes through me as his fingers stroke along my skin. I lean back, supporting myself with quivering arms as Harrison takes hold of panties and slides them down over the rise of my ass. I part my knees as he tosses the garment away, spreading myself wide for him. The muscles of his chest roll and ripple as he steadies himself above me, letting his fingers brush against the soft flesh between my legs.
“Oh my god...” I moan, letting my head fall back against my shoulders as Harrison’s fingers slip between my wet lips. He’s taking his time, feeling every inch of me. He runs his fingertips all along the length of my sex, parting me deeper and deeper with every pass.
“I love how wet you get the second I touch you,” he growls, running a slick finger around the tight ring of muscle behind my sex. The light, forbidden touch brings me down onto my elbows, my chest heaving.
“Can you blame me?” I ask breathlessly. “You know exactly how to touch me.”
“And I love it,” he groans, sliding two thick fingers inside of me. “I love knowing how every inch of you feels. How every part of you tastes.”
“Harrison,” I moan, lifting my hips as his fingers stroke the silky flesh inside of me.
“Can I taste you, Siena?” he asks, his voice ragged.
“Yes—” I gasp, as his thumb glances against my clit, “Yes, yes—”
Harrison’s presses back against my knees, opening me to him even more. I watch as he lowers those full lips toward my sex. He trails his tongue along the pink flesh there, teasing me with his light touch. I grab onto my headboard, bracing myself. He flicks the tip of his tongue against my throbbing, hard clit, sending a jolt of pleasure cascading through my entire body.
“You already have me right there,” I breathe.
He bears down, working his dexterous tongue over that hard, raw nub. My mouth opens into a long, silent cry as the swelling sensation builds inside of me, welling up with every glance of his mouth against me. His lips close around my aching clit as he brushes his sure fingers against my ass. As the tip of his tongue flicks irresistibly across that bundle of raw nerves, his fingers press gently against that forbidden area. He slips inside of me there, and I lose it. The pressure, the exciting newness of it, the real and taboo pleasure of it, sends me skyrocketing into orgasm. I come hard against Harrison’s gorgeous hands, his perfect mouth, as he touches me—all of me.
When my vision has clarified once again, I blink up at him in the low light of my little apartment. He’s smiling back at me, satisfied and charged.
“For fuck’s sake...” I breathe, “I’m sure glad you caught an earlier flight.”
The front door buzzer rings out through my tiny apartment, and a startled laugh bursts out of me.
“Expecting company?” Harrison asks, lifting an eyebrow.
“Just some grub,” I tell him, hurrying across the room to let in the delivery person.
“Good timing,” he smiles, “I seem to have worked up quite an appetite.”
I quickly throw some clothes on to receive my bountiful order. The wheezing delivery man glares at me over the threshold, angry about the climb. I bashfully accept my incredibly full bag of delicious Italian food and offer a handful of dollar bills for a tip. But the delivery man, who is quite possibly younger than me, doesn’t hurry to accept my offering. His eyes are fixed on me, wide and wondering. I smile nervously, unsure of what the deal is.
“Here you go,” I prompt him, holding out the tip, “Sorry about the stairs, I—”
“You’re Siena Lazio,” he breathes, paralyzed in my doorway.
“Yep, you’ve got the right apartment,” I assure him. Don’t restaurants usually tell delivery staff who it is they’re bringing food to? I mean, my name is right there on the receipt. I’m about to ease the door closed when I notice the emerald green cap the man is sporting, bearing the name of my team and extended family.
“I’m a huge Ferrelli fan,” the man gushes, “This year’s championship? What a show! Your brother deserved that win, one hundred percent. And what you pulled off with that dirtbag Rafael Marques? Too much. You’re my hero!”
“Oh...” I stammer, blushing furiously. “I, uh, think that’s a first.”
“I’m so sorry to hear about your father,” the man goes on, reaching for my hand, “I still remember when he was racing like it was yesterday, even though I was so small. I feel like I’ve grown up with you!”
“That’s, uh, really sweet...” I smile nervously. I have no idea how to respond to this person. His sentiments are endearing, but so very personal. I’ve never had to deal with this before in my life.
“But you’re going to take his place on the team, yes?” the delivery man asks eagerly.
“That’s right,” I tell him, “I’ll be a Ferrelli shareholder.”
“You’re going to be amazing at it,” he beams, bringing my hand toward his lips for a kiss. Just as he’s about to press his mouth to my skin, Harrison’s towering body steps between us. I watch the smaller man’s eyes bug nearly out of his skull as he looks up at Harrison in awe.
“Harrison Davies?” he gasps, looking quickly back and forth between us. “Oh...Of course...The two of you...Oh, wow.”
“Thanks for the food,” Harrison says shortly, “Three cheers for Ferrelli.”
I skip back inside as Harrison closes the door in the delivery man’s face. Flustered, I slide his tip under the door and wait to hear his footsteps retreat out of the building before I feel at ease once more.
“What the hell was that?” I ask, bewildered.
“I believe you’ve got yourself a bit of a fan base now, Siena,” Harrison smiles warily.
“That was the strangest thing,” I marvel, “It was like he thought he knew me, or something.”
“Well, that’s exactly what fandom is,” Harrison says, setting down the huge bag of food, “People get attached to you. They get ideas about how you are, hold you to certain standards. Not that I really know for myself, yet, but I saw it with my dad. You must have seen it with yours, too. Now it’s our turn, I suppose. We can’t really be surprised, after all the attention we got during the season.”
“But...what are we supposed to do about it?” I ask.
“What do you mean?” Harrison replies.
“I don’t know,” I say shaking my head, “Like just now—are we supposed to pretend to be whoever the fans think we are? Do we let them hold onto their illusions?”
“I don’t think you should let it bother you,” Harrison tells me, “If people are attached to you now, it’s because you’re a badass, sexy superhero and F1 genius.”
Take Me Series (COMPLETE BOX SET) Page 55
