The Glasshouse (Lavender Shores Book 6)

by Rosalind Abel

  Twenty-Eight

  Adrian

  “Shove, now! Hard!”

  I did as Harrison commanded, tilting my hips back, fixing my hands on either side of his hips, and then thrusting, long and deep, burying myself fully inside of him.

  We groaned as one.

  Harrison threw back his head as he arched. “Don’t move. Just stay there.” He squeezed tight around my shaft, and then ground against me.

  I would never tire of that sight. Harrison’s broad back glowing in the soft candlelight, watching as he moved his body, using my cock for his pleasure.

  Harrison pulled forward slightly, slow and deliberate, as he supported himself with one hand and reached between his legs with the other to stroke my balls, and then stroking his fingers up a little higher to feel my cock slide nearly out of him. “God, Adrian, I love feeling you while you’re inside me.”

  “Trust me, your ass is a bit of heaven. Like the rest of you.” I laughed in happiness. I released his hip and caressed his fingers as he caressed my cock while I slowly pushed back inside. “Not to mention, the view from here isn’t half bad either.”

  His fingers went back to my balls as I pressed flat against him once more.

  “That’s it. Stay there again.” Harrison began to rock once more, making it where the head of my dick hit the spot inside of him that he craved.

  I’d thought the sex had been good between us before, but over the past couple of weeks, as we settled back in with each other, it had been even better. And with every passing day, Harrison became more and more verbal about what he wanted, and how he wanted it. Even more than before. Complete perfection.

  “All right, Adrian, turn loose, but tell me when you’re close.” Harrison arched once more and propped himself up with both elbows on the mattress.

  “Yes, sir.” Taking a second to enjoy the sight of me pulling out of him again, and marveling that this was my life—this was the man I got to make love with—I followed his directions and began to pump. Thrusting in as hard as I could, feeling my balls slap against his, the sound of flesh crashing into flesh filling the room, combining with our grunts and groans, and then pulling nearly free only to slam back in.

  Between the sight and feel of his body, the journey to orgasm was short-lived. As it began to burn in my belly, I shoved deep and held still, commanding it to wait.

  “You close?”

  “Yeah.” I gripped his hip hard. “Don’t move yet. If you do, it’ll all be over.”

  He chuckled softly and then held still.

  When I was certain of my control, I eased free of him, knowing what he wanted. Even so, I didn’t so much as twitch, wanting to hear him tell me.

  Harrison rose to his knees before shifting around on the bed. He grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me to him in a kiss. His tongue dove deep, and his closely shorn scruff scratched against my jaw.

  I melted against him as his hands traveled over my body, managing to throw kerosene on the blaze of my lust.

  He moved one of his hands from my back, brought it around my hip to stroke my shaft as he continued to kiss, making me groan into his mouth. Then he released me, and his fingertips traveled over my stomach, up to my chest where he gripped the hair and pulled gently before he broke the kiss. His eyes met mine, blazing in the candlelight. “I love you.”

  I was panting so hard I wasn’t sure I could even speak. “I love you.”

  “Get on your back.”

  I did, lying in front of him as he swung one leg over to straddle me.

  Harrison grabbed my cock, lined me up to his entrance, captured my gaze once more, and then sank just enough so the head of my cock slid into him. He grinned, his smile full of heat, confidence, and a touch of wickedness. Keeping me secured inside, he lowered his lips to mine once more as both hands clenched in my chest hair, and then sank fully onto me.

  My eyes rolled to the back of my head, and I was completely powerless beneath him. I didn’t know how he did it, but he was constant sensory overload. The way he controlled my body, giving as much pleasure as he took.

  He broke the kiss again and that grin of his grew a little more sinful. “You ready?”

  “Always.”

  Shoving himself off my chest, he arched back, and began to ride, stroking himself in time with his thrusts. Arching so that he was nearly off me, then plunging me deep once more.

  He was a sight for the ages, the farmers’ tan gone, every inch of his model body a creamy glow as each muscle flexed while he rode my cock and pumped his shaft.

  As he grew tighter and tighter around me, I knew the end was near.

  “Come, Adrian, Come in me.”

  My hands gripped his thighs, and unable to control myself, I began to thrust, shoving up as he fell down. As my fingers dug into his thighs, I cried out in pleasure at my release, the fire surging through me, an explosion so strong it almost hurt.

  Harrison’s cries joined mine when his climax sprayed across my chest.

  He rocked a few more times, making me shudder, and then lowered himself down onto me once more, still not letting me go. He sighed in contentment and kissed me. “I’ve no idea how it’s possible, but I think we’re getting better at that.”

  “That’s saying something, as we weren’t bad to begin with.” I lifted my hand and stroked over his back. “You get a little more bossy every time, too.”

  He chuckled, his breath tickling against my neck. “You seem to like it.”

  “Just add it to my ever-growing list of kinks. Pretty soon, sex will be nothing more than you wearing an apron, and me smearing pizza all over my chest as you make demands of my cock.”

  Still grinning, he lifted slightly so he could look in my eyes. “Please don’t ever say that again. I’ll be really pissed if you ruin sex for us.”

  I winked. “What if we both wore our light-up shoes? Sound better then?”

  “I suppose it’s worth a try.” He shrugged playfully before kissing me again.

  Though we’d stayed up late kissing and whispering, I woke around four in the morning. Wide-awake and rested. At some point in the night, Harrison had shifted in his sleep, and though his head was no longer on my chest, the curve of his back was pressed firmly into my side, never losing contact.

  I traced the line of his shoulder and arm in the dark, softly so that it wouldn’t wake him. This was it. I wasn’t sure if it was magic or not, but this was what the whole world seemed to long for. What books and songs were written about. What people were willing to die for. Just the feel of the person you loved sleeping next to you. As you lay there, dreaming about the years to come. Knowing there would be challenges, new hurts, and old ones returning that you had to face once more. But more than the sex, more than the sweeping kisses, more than almost anything, was that gentle surety that through it all, you’d face every challenge and joy together.

  After a little while, I pressed a kiss to the back of Harrison’s shoulder, and carefully slid out of bed. I padded silently to the living room, retrieved one of Alex’s journals, and my own, and sat at the dining room table and read by candlelight.

  When Micah had first shown me the letters and journals, it seemed little more than proof that Alex was as batshit as everyone had claimed. To be so in love with someone made no sense.

  I hadn’t been wrong. It didn’t make any sense. Even as I thought of how Harrison had slipped into my soul, it made no sense. None whatsoever. I just knew that he had. I knew that I’d done the same to him.

  I was aware there were no guarantees, but there was a grounding core of peace in my gut as I read over Alex’s writings for the billionth time. Harrison’s and my story would have a different ending to Alex and Alan, different to Andre and Meghan, too. There wouldn’t be any television crews following us around to capture it all, and while I was glad of that, I wanted our journey told.

  So, I turned to a fresh page in my journal and began to write.

  As the faintest glow of sunrise hinted at the edge of
the windows, Harrison came up behind me and smoothed his hands over my shoulders as he pressed his lips to my ear. “Everything okay?”

  Reaching up, I gripped one of his hands. “More than okay.”

  “Whatcha doing?”

  “Writing, telling our story.” I scoffed softly. “Probably sounding like a lovesick fool. Actually, no probably about it. I’m sickeningly close to writing you sonnets in here.”

  “You know”—that time, he kissed my cheek—“I’m okay with that.”

  I was too. I never would’ve believed it, but I was too. I’d still been holding the pen with my other hand, and I placed it on the table then closed the journal. “Come with me. There’s something I’ve been wanting to show you.”

  By the time we reached the new field, the sun was nearly free from the earth, and the sky was golden yellow, which blended with the golden orange of the trees, and the gold copper of the glasshouse.

  Harrison gaped at it from the cab of the truck, and then he turned to me, clearly speechless.

  I motioned toward it. “Come on.”

  We both got out of the truck. I met him in front of it and took his hand. I’d parked far enough away so he could get the full picture, and he limped slightly as we walked what little distance remained.

  “The vines. Are those…?” Harrison’s words were barely a whisper, and they faded before he finished.

  “Jasmine. Yeah.” I squeezed his hand. “At least they will be, once they grow some more. I figure by the time spring gets going next year they’ll reach the top.”

  He shook his head, I hoped, in wonder. “And you changed the front doors.”

  “Well, I did kick the other one to pieces, if you remember.” The white french doors glowed in the reflected sunrise. “I can’t take full credit for that part, though. That was Micah’s suggestion.”

  “It’s beautiful.” As we reached the glasshouse, Harrison let go of my hand and walked around it, slowly, touching the refurbished brick and smiling at the crystal clear glass. “The copper is more stunning than I thought it would be.”

  “It’ll be even better when it gets that green oxidation you were talking about.” I was trying not to inspect Harrison too intently, but I was desperate to know his reaction.

  He looked pleased. More than pleased.

  I grabbed his hand again. “Come see inside.” I unlocked the door and ushered him in.

  Harrison’s jaw really fell open then, as he took in the brick floor spreading in a starburst pattern from the center. I’d forgotten he’d never seen it without it being covered in piles of junk. Then his gaze traveled up the walls, over the polished beams, and into the curved pinnacle of glass.

  “You like it?” I hadn’t meant to ask, hadn’t wanted to pressure or prompt, but I couldn’t keep from it.

  As he turned to me, his expression said it all, as did the unshed tears that glistened in his eyes. “I didn’t think you were going to keep it. When did you do this?”

  “While you were….” I cleared my throat, my own emotions attempting to get the best of me. “While you were gone. It was the only place I felt close to you.”

  He closed the distance between us, taking both of my hands in his. “It’s unreal. It really is, Adrian. It’s perfect.”

  “It’s yours.”

  He flinched, and for a few seconds, I was afraid I saw panic. Harrison glanced around again, as if he hadn’t already inspected. When he looked back, I realized it wasn’t panic. Just overcome. “Mine?”

  “Yeah.” I nodded. “If you want it.”

  He glanced around again. “Don’t you need it for crops, or something?”

  “No. It’s not ideal for crops. But you don’t have to take it. Not if it makes you uncomfortable or you’re not sure what to do with it. I don’t want to make you—”

  He cut me off with a kiss. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me in tight, so tight I was in danger of being crushed.

  Finally, he pulled back, and sniffed. “Yes. I want it.” He sighed, then met my gaze again. And in those brown depths, with the sun rising through the windows of the glasshouse, even though I looked for it, I didn’t see panic. Didn’t find a shred of evidence that he felt trapped or miserable.

  I saw love. Happiness, contentment, and love.

  As he had before the first time he kissed me, Harrison cupped my face with his hand. But this time, after his kiss, I still saw all those lovely things in his eyes.

  “I want the glasshouse, Adrian.” His thumb moved over my cheek as he smiled. “And I want you.”

  Epilogue

  Harrison

  May

  Our wedding colors were purple and copper. Though neither of us wore either hue on our ties or vests. Adrian and I were dressed simply, in matching black suits, white shirts, and black ties.

  As we stood facing each other—while Sapphire spoke of love, commitment, and building a life—I was captivated by the man who would be my husband in a few short minutes. He was so beautiful, and almost humorously out of place in his suit. Stunning in it, definitely, but he was much more Adrian in a sleeveless shirt and worn-out jeans with dirt on his hands.

  I’d seen the nervousness in his eyes when we woke that morning. Could tell he feared history might repeat itself. A thorough round of lovemaking seemed to have done the trick. Even as he met my gaze, while Sapphire officiated and the less than twenty members of our family and friends witnessed, there was no worry, no hesitation.

  For just a moment, I allowed myself to look away. To glance at the life we were creating together.

  In the past months, I’d purchased the Barlow property, paid enough that Rick and Mary could retire comfortably in Hawaii, and after my last day at Lavender Petals, started construction on the top-of-the-line greenhouses that would be the basis for my nursery. Organic flowers, and organic produce—seemed like a perfectly matched pair to me. And though I could sense their presence, sense the building of a new dream I’d crafted, they were out of view from the glasshouse, from our ceremony.

  Just outside the open french doors stood eleven members of the Rivera family, Micah and Connor, and Mabel. That was perfect as well. People I had grown to love, people who would be with Adrian and me throughout our life together, but just outside the doors.

  With the exception of Sapphire, who was officiating, only Andre stood at Adrian’s side, and Jasper at mine. And though the walls of our little sanctuary were sparkling glass, the moment was ours. Just Adrian’s and mine.

  Dusk was beginning to fall, the sunset obliging in a fiery orange tinged with violet at the edges. And though strands of fairy lights strung from the trees glistened outside the windows, inside the glasshouse there were only candles. A multitude of them, casting soft lustrous light to the gleaming copper roof, shimmering off the glass, and making the countless purple irises growing around the circumference of the glasshouse glow softly in the fading light.

  In those, there was one more soul with us, watching over, crying happy tears.

  I brought my attention back to Adrian, and he cocked an eyebrow, ever so slightly. Maybe there was just a touch of concern, after all. And though Sapphire still spoke, I leaned in, holding his gaze, and lifted my hand to caress his cheek with my thumb. “I love you.”

  Though his smile brightened, his lips trembled, and he managed a nod.

  I knew Sapphire had worked long and hard on the things she would say for our wedding, certain that she put endless thought and care into her words. I could feel them, but they were only a soft, comforting murmur in the distance. There was nothing besides the man in front of me, the one who helped ground me while allowing me to fly. And then, Sapphire turned to him.

  Adrian cast a quick glance out the door to his family, but then returned to me, let out a shaky breath, and smiled as he began to speak. “Harrison Getty, I think I’ve wanted you my entire life, I just didn’t know it. I didn’t have dreams of becoming famous—” He chuckled softly. “—or becoming specifically anything, really
. I just wanted to be, just wanted to live however it was I wanted to live. And up until relatively recently, I thought I had everything I wanted. But through people in my life, both past and present, I began to realize that I had freedom, but little else. I was free from the risk of loss and hurt. Free from being told what to do or having expectations placed on me.” He took my hand, sliding one of our matching wedding bands onto my ring finger. “Then you came into my life. And I discovered I’d also been free from passion, from love, from discovering that the greatest gift in life is finding the person you can’t live without.” The ring fit perfectly snug, and he lifted his gaze to mine once more. “You are the man I will build my life around. The one person I’m willing to bend for. And I will love you every day, as if it’s my last. You have ruined my life, in the most beautiful way possible. From this moment on, you are my life. I love you with everything I am.”

  I knew Sapphire was supposed to say something, then turn to me, letting me know it was my turn to speak. I didn’t wait. We had not heard the vows the other had prepared, and my heart leapt in response to his.

  “Adrian… I….” My throat constricted, and I took a moment.

  A few months before, Adrian had let me read through his great-uncle’s writing. Even beyond the words of Adrian’s vow, I heard the deeper commitment in what Adrian said. Understood how great a promise he was making. That he would love me with a passion he’d discovered on the pages of those journals, that he would love me despite the risk of life casting a cruel twist of fate as it had with his twin. I’d already known how much Adrian loved me. But hearing it spoken in such a way, in such a magically beautiful place, was nearly my undoing.

  I took a second again, trying to rein in my emotions. Then I saw that look flashing across Adrian’s eyes once more. That spark of worry. And it made me laugh.

  “I’m not running.” I tightened my grip on his hand. “Breathe.”