30 Days

by Christine d'Abo

  I let out a squeal when a bag was unexpectedly dropped beside me. “The hell!”

  Harrison stood a foot away, arms crossed and grinning. “You left this at my place.”

  The neon gym logo was the only reminder I needed as to the contents. “Shit.”

  “I wanted to get it back to you. Just in case you need it.” He cocked an eyebrow. “You can never be too prepared.”

  I got to my knees and lifted the bag out of the way of my zucchini patch. “This is way heavier than I remember.”

  “I took the liberty of adding a few more items from your list.”

  Lord, help me. “This feels like more than a few.”

  He shrugged. “I needed to get out of the condo and wanted to explore Toronto a bit. The adventure did me good.”

  “Glad I could help.” The zucchini was heavy in my hand. Instead of dropping it, I held it up. “Here.”

  “I didn’t know you were a gardener.” He took it and ran his hands along the verdant skin. “Nice specimen.”

  Dirty mind, dirty mind, dirty mind. “Thanks. I normally kill things, but this year I was more focused and this was the result.”

  Harrison came closer and dropped into a squat next to me. “You know you can pick the flowers, too. They’re tasty in salads.”

  “Wait a second. You garden?”

  “My dad does. He can grow just about anything. I picked a few things up over the years.” Without me asking him to, Harrison reached down and began to weed.

  This was . . . different.

  We’d both been crystal clear about not wanting to get involved in a relationship. This was supposed to simply be about sex. And also apparently now zucchini. There wasn’t anything else to do except go back to harvesting and weeding, so that’s what I did. It was nice, working side-by-side with him, no expectations of anything else. I caught a hint of his aftershave, stronger than it had been the other night, but not so overpowering to make my eyes water.

  “Aww, Mr. Kemp. How kind of you to lend Ms. Barrow a hand. That’s very sweet.”

  I congratulated myself on not groaning at the sound of Mrs. Le Page’s amused voice. I looked up to see her standing there, her arm linked with her husband’s. They were so cute together it should be illegal. “He’s giving me some pointers.”

  “Nothing better than a man with a green thumb. I find they’re handier in more than one way.” She patted her husband’s hand. “Isn’t that right, dear?”

  “If you say so, love.” He winked at me.

  I turned around to face my plants. I didn’t need mental pictures of what those two got up to behind closed doors. I had no doubt it was dirty.

  “She’s not a natural, but I bet she can be taught.” Harrison nudged me with his shoulder. “I don’t mind showing her a few things. At least when I leave I’ll know the zucchini will survive.”

  “You’re not staying?” The couple looked between each other before Mrs. Le Page continued. “But you just moved in.”

  “I’m only here on a short-term contract.”

  “You’re not moving now, though.” She looked at me with a frown. “Our poor Alyssa.”

  No. Not poor Alyssa. Please don’t go there.

  Harrison bumped his shoulder against mine. “No, ma’am. I’m here for three months.”

  “So lots of time to enjoy yourself. That’s a good thing.” Mr. Le Page gently toed the gym bag. “Gardening tools?”

  I stood and shoved three of the largest zucchini I had into Mr. Le Page’s chest. “Here, have some. I have more than I’ll ever be able to eat and I’d totally take some baked goods in return.”

  Harrison chuckled. “Sounds like a good trade.”

  “Yes it does.” Mrs. Le Page rescued the produce from her husband’s precarious hold. “Thank you, dear. I haven’t had a nice big one like this in years.”

  Fuck me. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. “Happy to help.”

  Harrison had returned to weeding during this exchange. I saw him trying, and failing, to hold back a grin. He managed to keep his laughter in check until the elderly couple wandered away, their prize in hand.

  “She knew exactly what she was saying, didn’t she?” He pinched the bridge of his nose, his shoulders shaking with laughter. “What a pair.”

  “A few months ago someone used the gym for what Pierce is convinced was a weird sex game. I’m fairly certain it was the two of them. They’ve been far too smug ever since. They also giggle like kids whenever Pierce mentions it in one of the meetings.” I reached for another bunch and carefully plucked the flowers from the vines. “I can only hope I’m that happy with someone when I’m that age. And still having sex.”

  “So you want to get married again someday?” He turned slightly away from me as he reached for one of the plants near the far side. “Won’t that be hard?”

  “Well, I hadn’t really thought that far ahead. I mean . . . I don’t know. I can’t picture being with someone other than Rob, but I can’t see myself alone either.” The ache in my knees was getting to be too much. Ignoring the dirt, I sat down on the stones. “I know that doesn’t make sense.”

  “No, it does. My dad was the same when my mom passed.” He then got to his feet. “You have a lot of vegetables here. Are you going to eat all this?”

  “Your mom died?” Okay, rude, but he’d caught me off guard. “I’m sorry.”

  “It was a long time ago.” He bent down and captured two zucchini. “Mind if I take some?”

  “Go ahead.” Why did it feel as though we’d crossed some sort of line? Something threatened to change between us and I wasn’t sure I liked it. “We should have sex.”

  “Mr. Kemp, I see you’re trying to help Ms. Barrow. The condo association thanks you.” Pierce came up the path, clipboard in hand. “I’m glad to see you’re taking your garden seriously this year. Mr. Kemp, if you want to use the plot associated with your condo, I ask that you keep in mind not all of the occupants care for greenery. Make sure it’s something easily maintainable.”

  A litany of curses flew through my mind. “Hi, Pierce. Zucchini?”

  “Can’t stand them. If you have more than you want, please remember not to let them rot. Place them in a basket on the communal table for others to have.” He nodded and strolled away.

  “I swear this building is Melrose Place,” I muttered.

  “Yeah.” Harrison reached down and picked up the gym bag. My heart rate jumped up a notch as I watched him sling it over his shoulder. “Day Five, eh?”

  I couldn’t even remember what it was. My entire focus was on Harrison and the way his T-shirt stretched across his chest. My mind had been spinning for ages, trying to figure out where my life was headed. When I was with him, the only thing I needed to worry about was how long it would be until I would come.

  Yeah, this was better. Nothing about family history, death, or produce. Just sex, pure and simple. I smiled, stood, and brushed the dirt off of my hands. “Your place or mine?”

  14

  It took until we reached my front door for me to make a decision as to where we would have our little rendezvous. If I kept walking, Harrison wouldn’t even hesitate to open the front door and let me in. At some point I was going to have to invite him into my inner sanctum, in a manner of speaking. Day Five seemed as good a time as any.

  I dug into my pocket and took out my key. “I don’t remember if I actually cleaned my kitchen before I went upstairs.”

  He cocked his eyebrow. “I haven’t unpacked in three moves.”

  “Good point.”

  My nerves began to chew at my insides as I opened the door and stepped through. “Well, here it is.” I kicked my abandoned shoes closer to the closet. “Careful not to trip.”

  The thud of the gym bag landing on the floor sent a shiver of anticipation through me. “This place is exactly how I pictured it.”

  Looking around, I tried to see it through Harrison’s eyes. Organized chaos was probably the best description. My
laptop was on the coffee table beside an empty chip bag and my e-reader. The pillows were still on the floor where I’d kicked them off, piled like a soft form of the game Jenga.

  I ignored the mess and turned to face him. Harrison rested his hands on his hips as he looked the place over. The half smile that I was now associating with his amusement was fixed in place.

  Clearing my throat, I shrugged when his gaze snapped to mine. “I’d apologize, but this is me.”

  “You’re fine. And never apologize for who you are. If people don’t like it, then you don’t need them around.”

  The gym bag was on the floor between us. The cards were somewhere inside and on one of them, the plan for how we were about to spend the next several hours. At least I hoped it would be hours, because now that I had sex on the brain, I really wanted to take my time scratching that itch.

  “I don’t remember what Day Five is.” There. That was out there now. “But unless it’s something really strange, there won’t be a veto on my part.”

  “There’s still no penetration.” He cocked an eyebrow as he nodded his chin toward the bag. “You won’t want to add a second card.”

  “No?” That sounded like a dare. “Maybe I will. Maybe I’ll throw in two cards just to test our limits.”

  “Day Five is for us to masturbate each other.”

  Oh.

  Well.

  I cleared my throat. “One card will do.”

  Harrison walked past the bag to stand in my living room. “Your call. We can get a blanket, stretch out on the floor. Or if you’re comfortable, we can take things to the bedroom.”

  “The floor.” The words were a reflex, something I didn’t want to question. I was fine for him to be in my place, but I wasn’t ready for Harrison to be in my bed. Not yet.

  “Fine by me.” He threw the pillows on the couch and gently lifted the coffee table and all of its contents to the side. “We can do a little prep work and then take our time. Might want to check the kit for anything we might need.”

  The task made it easier to get my mind back onto the path I wanted it to be on—sexy fun times with my hot neighbor. While Harrison rearranged my furniture, I dug through the additions he’d gathered. Water bottles, towels, a few porn DVDs . . . “Holy crap, more lube?”

  “You didn’t have any of the good stuff. And I picked up a good waterproof brand. For later.”

  “Day Sixteen,” I muttered. “Any requests?”

  “Use your imagination.”

  “You asked for it.”

  Lube (boring). Water (necessary). Silk scarf (interesting). Nipple clamps (hell no). Oooh, latex gloves—

  “Those are for Day Seven.”

  Dammit.

  In the end I decided to keep things simple: lube, water, and the towel. Having Harrison’s hands on my body would most likely be all the stimulation I would need to have this whole mutual masturbation thing work.

  By the time I’d brought my items over to him, Harrison had spread the blanket from the couch on the floor and arranged the pillows in a somewhat comfortable-looking fashion. “I have provisions.”

  “We should add a zucchini to that pile.” He winked at me. “In case we get hungry.”

  I burst out laughing. “Thanks. Now I’m picturing the Le Pages upstairs molesting my produce.”

  “I suggest we leave them to their shenanigans.” He plucked the towel from my hands and spread it out on top of the blanket. “And we get up to our own.”

  It didn’t matter that this was technically Day Five, I got nervous when he reached out to touch me. Harrison was still my fantasy man. The make-believe prince who would swoop into my dreams to make love to me after I’d eradicated hunger and gained world peace. It didn’t seem real to have him here in my living room, his fingers carding through my hair as he stepped in close to kiss my temple.

  “I want to undress you.” He spoke the words against the spot he’d just kissed. “I want to feel your skin against mine. Your breasts on my chest. I want to push my fingers into your pussy until they’re wet from your come.”

  Christ!

  He ran his fingers down the length of my spine, massaging the skin beneath my shirt. I could hear his heart thudding in his chest, or maybe that was mine. I couldn’t tell for certain.

  “Tell me that’s what you want.” He cupped my ass, squeezing as he pulled me closer. “That you want me to make you scream.”

  “Yes.” I grabbed his biceps to hold myself upright. “I want that.”

  I didn’t have to ask twice.

  Harrison picked me up and carried me the short distance to the blanket. With a strength I didn’t realize he had, he leaned forward and laid me gently on my back with my head resting on the closest pillow. He knew now that I liked watching him undress and moved with slow, deliberate motions as he took off his shirt and opened the fly on his jeans. He was already hard, his cock straining to escape its cotton prison.

  Not content to be a passive observer, I reached down and made quick work of my own jeans and shoes. Next time it would be fun to get undressed at the same time, stripping off the same articles of clothing. I’d have to remember to add that to one of the cards. Or make up some ones of my own.

  Sitting up, I held his gaze as I reached back and undid the clasp of my bra. I held the fabric in place for a moment before letting the cups slip free from my skin, the weight pulling it down my arms.

  “Fucking beautiful.” He stared at me, his gaze jumping from point to point across my body. His hands flexed at his sides, as though he wanted to reach out and touch me, hold me. I loved that he didn’t. There was something strangely magical about the moment; the two of us here, mostly naked, staring at each other. I’d always felt the need to jump into action when faced with the prospect of sex. It was a reflex with Rob, to get right to it. Sex was that wonderful thing we did to pause the craziness of our lives. There was no reason to delay because we both had other things to do after.

  The luxury of simply looking . . . if I’d only known how much of a turn-on that was, I would have taken more time to look at Rob before he’d gone.

  “Alyssa,” Harrison whispered.

  I blinked, forced my gaze from the jut of his hipbone to his eyes. “Yeah?”

  “Touch your breast.”

  I swallowed, my eyelids sliding closed for a lazy moment before I reached up and lifted the weight of my breast with my hand. If this was part of the mutual masturbation, then I was all for it. It was also an opportunity for me to show him exactly what I liked. Harrison might have more experience with various partners, but I wasn’t a blushing virgin who didn’t know what turned her on. If I wanted him to know my body, to know me, then it was up to me to act as his guide.

  With the weight of my breast still in the palm of my hand, I shifted so I could tug my nipple with my forefinger and thumb. It was already hard and sensitive and it took little effort for that invisible road through my body to open up. That direct line of pleasure from my breasts to my clit pulsed with every flick of my fingers and caused my breath to quicken.

  “Does that make you wet?” He reached down and squeezed his cock through his briefs. “I wish I had my hands on you right now.”

  “Nothing stopping you.” I mirrored my actions with my other hand on my free breast. “This is all about coming, after all.”

  “Not yet. I love watching you. Your expressions.” He gave his cock a few strokes before letting his hand fall away. “I’m going to have to be careful.”

  “That’s right. I get to be the one to pull the trigger.” I pinched both my nipples hard. “I really like that.”

  “Have you been spanked before? Tied up? Anything kinky?”

  “No. We talked about it sometimes, but Rob always seemed to like the idea more than putting it into practice.”

  “What about you? Do you like the idea or want to try?”

  Picturing being on my hands and knees, Harrison behind me, his hand coming down hard on my ass, turned me on. “I want to t
ry.”

  “Good. I look forward to introducing you to a few things.” He moaned before dropping to his knees beside me and reaching for my panties. “I’m taking these off. I want to see how wet you are.”

  I let go of my breasts and helped him. When I was finally stripped free, I waved my hand around his groin. “Those too. I want to be able to play.” He was a magician. Poof, they were gone. “Thanks.”

  “Anything for you, m’lady.”

  “Cute.” I looked around and tried to figure out how best to complete the task at hand. “Side by side?”

  “Yeah. Stretch out.”

  It took a moment to get into position. I shifted one of the pillows so I wouldn’t get a cramp in my neck. It was wide enough that he was able to steal a corner as well, putting our faces inches apart. We didn’t breach the invisible line that kept our bodies apart, though I knew it was only a matter of minutes before we would. Harrison was flushed and for the first time since we’d met, he looked unsettled. Patience was never my strong suit, the urge to slide my hands across his chest a temptation I didn’t want to deny myself for long.

  “One at a time?” I don’t know why I’d whispered, but it suddenly felt necessary.

  “Together.” His breath tickled my nose and sent a shiver through me.

  Harrison reached past me, allowing his forearm to brush against the top of my shoulder, and grabbed the bottle of lube. I held out my hand and waited for the cool, slick gel to fill my palm. It was clear and appeared to magnify my skin beneath. I should have waited for him, but I wanted to get my hands on his cock, wanted to feel its weight in my palm. Wrapping my fingers around his shaft drew another moan from him. He paused his own actions as I made a few tentative strokes.

  “You have a very nice cock. Thick and veiny.”

  “You’re the first person to say they like the veins.”

  “I’m a bit weird.” I gave my hand a bit of a twist around his head before continuing down once more.

  “I like weird.” He chuckled and filled his own palm with lube. “Can you lie on your back a bit more?”

  I did, though it made it awkward to stroke him. I might have protested, except he took his hand and covered my breasts with the lube. Now that was a sensation I wasn’t expecting. His fingers slid across my skin, causing goose bumps to rise.