by King, Kelsey
When I first started writing Secrets, my agent at the time wasn’t sure it was something she wanted to represent. I told her all about it, how messy it was because it was based on situations I’d experienced in real life, and she seemed less than enthused about it. For a long time, I never found out why she felt that way, but two months after starting the manuscript, she ended our contract and pulled away.
I had no clue what to do. We’d worked together for years on my previous bestselling series. It wasn’t until last year that I discovered an interview where she discussed her past clients and how she was over the salacious stories. She couldn’t find anything redeeming in explicit sex scenes. In her words, stories like that had little to no value.
I never spoke about it but hearing that hurt me. I’d considered Tiffany to be one of my best friends and knowing that she’d only ever represented me for a cash grab was a mixture of feelings I wasn’t ready for. Anger because of how she’d led me to believe she had the same passion in these stories that I did. Sadness that I’d trusted her so implicitly and she trashed me during an interview. For a long time, I refused to work with anyone else. I threw all of my feelings into Dirty Little Secrets, taking out my anger and frustration with phony people in that book.
My current agent, Chad, said he felt that anger brewing in the back of the novel the moment he read it. The kind of “fuck the world” energy that he hadn’t expected but had completely fallen in love with. Sometimes I wonder if he’s just blowing smoke up my ass the same way Tiffany was, but I don’t want to think about that. Chad’s a good guy.
But Harlow? I can tell she’s passionate, and that only makes me that much more interested in her. I know it’s such a silly thing to get excited over, but the letter that had once annoyed me has proven to do the exact opposite now. The serious level of attention to detail that she possesses had turned me on more than any naked woman on my phone ever could. Unless that naked woman was Harlow Knight, of course.
When I make it back to my cabin after the walk, I spend the day cleaning and clearing my head. I chase this random bout of energy until the entire place is spotless, and then I prepare brunch and sit down with a cup of coffee to write. I’ve just gotten to the part of the sequel where Max and Grace break up. It’s necessary, but it still feels a little sad to do. I’ve invested emotions into these two and writing them so unhappy together has been killing my mood.
But it’s necessary. Max needs to grow by the end of the book, sacrificing something to prove just how much he cares about Grace. So, I take a long drink from my mug and get down to business.
After spending the day working, I close my laptop and lie in bed, ready to relax. Maybe listen to a little music and read. But then I remember the number Harlow gave me, and a smile tugs at my lips. I reach for my phone on the nightstand and scroll through my contacts until I see her name. She answers on the fourth ring.
“Hello?” Her voice is unreal. Sweet and light.
“Harlow?” My voice is calm and deep, unlike hers.
“Yes, who’s calling?”
“I’m a little offended you don’t know who this is,” I taunt.
There’s a pause, but I hear the smile in her voice when she replies, “I’m a little offended it took you this long to call, Liam. Busy day? Or were you just too nervous?”
“After the mountain of edits you gave me, I have little time to worry about what I’m going to eat for dinner, let along make nighttime phone calls. I’m surprised you answered at this hour. I know you’re a night owl and all, but it’s almost four a.m. there. Can’t sleep?”
“Not particularly,” she says. “I’ve been dealing with other clients all day. Insomnia’s been kicking my ass. How’s the editing going by the way? I’ve gone over everything you sent in as of late. It’s looking good. Better.”
“I suppose I have you to thank for that. You’re the one that gave me all those pointers. But I’m still not removing the affair aspect.”
“I could wring your neck, Liam.”
“I might like that.” I chuckle. “I’m not removing it, but I will work on how it makes the two of them feel. Something as taboo as that needs to have some kind of emotional weight otherwise it feels inconsequential.”
She sighs. “I’m glad you’re finally starting to see it my way. All it took was a little convincing.”
“You are pretty damn persuasive, Harlow. It’s a dangerous quality to have.”
“Dangerous how?”
“Dangerous in the sense that, if you really tried, I have a feeling you could convince someone to do something they might not otherwise consider. Power like that needs to be wielded very carefully.”
“Do you think I’m careful, Liam?”
I shift in my bed. “A little too careful.”
“How so?”
“Last night,” I start. “We were right on the brink of something reckless, and you pulled back at the last minute. Careful not to go too far. Careful not to let yourself have too much fun.”
She laughs sweetly, and I feel myself falling harder for this woman yet again. “I let myself have as much fun as I need. Don’t you worry about that.”
“Really? I’m not sure. You seemed like you were holding back. I think, if you actually let go and tried having a little unfiltered fun, you just might find that it’s not so bad. You wouldn’t keep yourself contained as much as you do.”
“I have plenty of fun,” she argues.
“Oh yeah? When was the last time you did something really exciting? Something where you didn’t have to think about it, and you didn’t hold yourself back?”
There’s an even longer pause than any she’s given before, and for a moment I wonder if I’ve lost the call. Cell service all the way out here isn’t the best. But finally, she says something that surprises even me.
“Last night I touched myself thinking about you.”
I smile. “Did you? What’d you think about?”
“For one, dropping the Max and Grace thing and just picturing you. Thinking of the way you said you’d put your head between my thighs and kiss your way up to my clit. Thinking about it now makes me wet all over again.”
I feel my cock stir in my shorts, and I reach down to grab hold, idly thumbing over the head. “I’d treat that pussy as nice as I could,” I murmur, imagining spreading her legs and lowering my head between them, hungry to taste every inch of her. “Slide your fingers inside, Harlow.”
Over the phone, I hear the squeak of bed springs, and then, a soft noise from her. “Fast or slow?” she asks.
“Slow. In and out slowly, teasing at first.” I let her moan for a moment before I suddenly say, “Now pull them out.”
“I was just starting to enjoy it.”
“Pull them out.”
I chuckle when I hear her curse under her breath. I can’t help but reach down into my shorts and remove my erection, giving myself a few long strokes. The feeling is incredible, and imagining the way Harlow’s hands on me would feel helps make it that much more powerful. After taking care of myself for a moment, I say, “You can push your fingers back inside. Faster this time, like you’re needy for me to fuck you.”
Silence follows this order, but I know she’s touching herself the same way I am, with neediness and excitement in the pit of my stomach. I can hear her labored breaths, the way the air rasps in her throat as she fingers herself.
On my nightstand sits a bottle of lotion, and I squeeze out a handful, wrapping my hand around my cock and stroking with much more speed. “Fuck, I wish this was you touching me,” I grunt, rolling my hips forward into my fist.
“Imagine it is,” she says. “Imagine how tight I am. How the walls of my pussy feel around your cock. Warm. Wet.”
I do as she says, closing my eyes and allowing my imagination to take over. I thrust my hips again, hungrily chasing after this perfect fantasy. “Beg for me,” I growl.
“Please, Liam.” She gasps. “Fuck me. Fuck my pussy, just like that.”
&n
bsp; Maybe it’s because it’s been a while since I’ve had sex, or perhaps it’s because of Harlow’s hold on me, but something inside of me breaks, and soon I’m groaning as I pump out a load, teeth gritted, and my eyes squeezed tight. As I come down from my orgasm, I hear it in her voice that she’s close.
“Thumb over your clit,” I instruct her. “And work your fingers faster, the way my tongue would move in and out of you.” She says nothing, but the heaviness of her breath increases, and soon I can hear her whimper.
“That’s it,” I grin. “Come for me. Make a mess, Harlow. Let me taste you.”
“Fuck,” she whines, and I know at that moment she’s reached her climax.
For a long time, neither of us say anything. I don’t mind. The sound of her breathing is calming and gives me a reason to stay planted in bed and not cleaning up the mess I’ve made all over my sheets.
I try to think of something to say, but my mind goes blank. As experienced as I’ve been, phone sex has never been my thing. I much preferred a visual media, such as pictures or videos. But this…this was exactly what I needed, and I suspect what she needed as well.
After a few minutes, Harlow clears her throat. “Thank you, Liam.”
5
Liam
Leaving my folks’ cabin is always the hardest part of getting away. I wouldn’t consider myself antisocial, but there’s something so nice about getting away from everyone and just living quietly. Back in town, everyone is so busy, speeding from one place to another. Here in the cabin, I can sit down with a cup of something hot and enjoy the silence and stillness.
But like all good things, my time here has to end.
Being away has actually proven to be good for my work. In a week, I’ve managed to edit two-thirds of the Secrets manuscript and plot and write five chapters of the sequel, Sins and Lies. While I’m not a slow writer, it does take me a while to get that much content put down on paper when I’m at home. There’s something inspiring about this cabin, and I’m already planning on heading back the next time I can get a chance.
On the drive back into town, I turn on the radio and let my mind wander. This whole thing with Harlow has been something out of a movie. As wrong as it is, I can’t help but want her more because of it. She’s forbidden fruit, but more than that, she’s the kind of woman I normally look for. She’s self-assured and strong, and she always seems to know what she wants. She doesn’t hold back her thoughts and isn’t afraid to speak her mind when the time calls for it.
On top of all of that, listening to her moan through the phone has to be one of the most incredible things I’ve heard in years. When she whimpers my name, I can practically see her face contorted in pleasure. There’s nothing quite like it.
Without a doubt, this whole thing is complicated, and we’ll have to walk on eggshells, but I don’t mind taking the risk for her. I want to know everything about her. Shit, just admitting that to myself takes a lot to do. But it’s the truth. Talking to Harlow over the past few weeks makes me want to plan a trip to New York just so I can meet her in person.
It’s fucking insane how this woman makes me want to do things I’ve never done before.
A few days after making it back to my apartment, I realize I need to start taking care of business again. The house is a mess, the fridge is empty, and the laundry needs to be washed. Rather than putting all of this off any longer, I take charge, doing my chores as quickly and as efficiently as I can. Once all the dishes are washed, and the laundry has been folded, I head out to the grocery store.
I don’t usually bother with anything fancy when it comes to food. I like the easy shit: freezer food, oven pizzas, and things I can throw together in under fifteen minutes. While I roam the store aimlessly adding things to my cart, I see a familiar face near the produce section. The minute the man recognizes me, he smiles wide and waves me over.
Michael pulls me into a hug and claps me on the back, laughing deeply. “Holy shit, man, how long has it been since we’ve run into each other?”
“Too damn long, that’s for sure,” I say.
Michael’s one of the few cousins I have still living in Colorado. Most of them moved away when they graduated, but Michael had things to take care of here. We grew up together, and everyone called him my brother when we were in high school.
“How’s the family doing?” I ask.
“We’re doing alright, man. Tanya’s actually pregnant again,” he says.
His wife comes out of nowhere with a bag of shredded cheese. She drops it in the cart before looking up at me and smiling. “This one wanted a girl, so we’re trying.”
“Hey, Tanya,” I say, leaning in for a hug. It’s brief, but that’s expected. She’s not my biggest fan.
Growing up, my parents always pushed me to go to school for something I could profit from. They didn’t want me wasting my time getting a degree in English unless I was going to be a college professor or something. When they finally realized I wasn’t going to live their dream-life for them, they turned to Michael. They considered me a failure, and were twice as hard on him, giving him no other option but to go to medical school. Tanya and Michael met during our senior year of high school, and she got to see all the stress they put on him.
She’s never said it out loud, but I know there’s a part of her that blames me for the pressure my folks put onto Michael. If I’d just did what I was told and gone to school for something profitable, Michael could live his dream. Instead, he was now a surgeon and still harbored a dream of being a musician in his heart. And Tanya? She wanted nothing to do with me because of it.
I try not to let it get to me. Maybe it is my fault, but there’s nothing I can change now. In the long run, both of us are successful, both of us are well-off, and both of us are trying to make it through each day. Whether Tanya’s disdain for me is warranted or not is something I’ve stopped worrying myself over.
“Listen, man, you need to come by the house sometime and say hi to the boys,” Michael says. “They’ve been wondering where you’ve been!”
“You guys free this weekend? I’d love to stop by and visit for a while.”
“I think that could work. What do you think, Tanya?” He turns to look at his wife.
Tanya looks like she wants to say no, but she gives a tight-lipped smile and nods. “Sure, we’d love to have you over.”
“Perfect,” Michael says. “We’ll see you this weekend, okay?”
I pat Michael on the back. “I’ll see you then.”
I already know that Tanya’s going to give me plenty of attitude this weekend, but I’m excited to see Michael’s kids again. The last time I saw them, they were just starting elementary school. By now they could probably hold full-length conversations about all the kinds of video games and TV shows they like.
After I collect all that I need, I check out and make my way back home. I begin putting the groceries away when Harlow pops into my head again. Her life outside of work is still a mystery, and part of me wonders what she has going on in her life. Does she have complicated relationships with her family like I do, or are things perfect in every way for her?
Thinking about her makes me want to see her, and I end up putting off dinner so I can call her over Skype. She picks up after a few seconds, her laptop facing the washing machine.
“Hey,” I say, looking at the environment, just a little confused.
Harlow pops up from out of frame with a smile on her face. “Boo!”
I place a hand over my heart, feigning shock. “You got me! What are you doing?”
“Laundry,” she says unhappily.
“Ah, been there. That was how I felt earlier this morning.”
She begins folding clothes as she takes them from the dryer. “It’s the worst, I swear to god. And what annoys me the most is that even when I do laundry, not all my clothes get clean. I still have to wear one outfit.”
I crack a smile. “Who says? Personally, I’d love to see you do all your laundry and wash
every piece of clothing you have at once.”
“I bet you would,” she teases, pulling out a pair of silk panties. With a devilish smile, she shows them off.
“I think you should put those on,” I say, shifting to lie on my side.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I bet they’d look really nice on you.”
She narrows her eyes. “You just want to see me in a thong.”
“Maybe,” I shrug. We’ve exchanged texts before, but I’ve yet to see Harlow moving around in a skimpy pair of underwear like the ones in her hand. The mental image of it makes my pants stir just a little.
“I’ll be right back,” she says, winking at me.
Harlow disappears for a moment. While I wait, I change out of my clothes and switch into a pair of sweats and an old t-shirt I never wear anymore. Just as I move back to the bed, Harlow steps into the frame in that same pair of pink panties she held in her hands. She lifts her shirt and spins around, giving me a full view of her body.
“Goddamn,” is all I can say. She laughs and continues doing laundry. Once the clean clothes are folded, she bends over to pick up the dirty clothes and dump them in the washing machine. I get the best view of her ass, and I reach down to grip myself, giving my cock a few tugs.
When she turns around, she brushes a strand of hair from her face and says, “And now, we wait for this load of laundry to be done. However, will I entertain myself?”
“I can think of a few ways,” I say.
“How?”
“You’ll have to be in your bedroom for me to share them,” I say. Harlow grins and reaches for the laptop, carrying it back to her room. Soon we’re both lying on our beds, looking at one another.
“Now what?”
“I think you need to let me get a closer look at those panties. I’ve already forgotten what they look like.”
“Oh, have you?” She laughs. “Fine.” Harlow sits up and angles the laptop down, showing off her legs and the underwear hugging her body. “How’s this?”
