by Harper Bliss
“Just…” The door swings open. He leans in and hisses, “Don’t hurt her, Kat. I swear to you.” Rocco greets the customer and I’m left standing there baffled. Maybe the Walkers are a much more complicated bunch than I thought they were. I’ve known Rocco for years and he has never spoken to me so disrespectfully.
“For your information,” I say, once the customer has left, “Hera and I had a lovely time. Maybe, instead of throwing a hissy fit, you could be happy for us?”
“I’m not throwing a hissy fit. But we are here together every day and you didn’t breathe a word of it.”
“Because it’s delicate. She is your aunt and I know you adore her.”
“She doesn’t have many people. I can’t help but be protective of her. She’s only just now started coming out of her shell again. You weren’t there when she…” He falls silent.
“Look at it this way.” I try a smile. “If your beloved aunt’s going to go on a date with someone, wouldn’t you prefer it to be with your best friend instead of someone you don’t know the first thing about?”
Rocco just stands there, nodding slowly. “That’s the thing, Kat. I’m not so sure.”
“Excuse me?” I have to restrain my indignation—I sure hope Rocco didn’t mean what I think he meant by that—because the door opens again. My heart skips a beat because it’s Hera walking in. She has some plaster on her cheek, and her hair is all dusty, but she looks scrumptious just the same.
“Hi.” She saunters up to the counter and sends me a big smile, then glances over at Rocco, who still has a pout on his face. “I’m not sure which vibe you’re going for today, but I sense some tension in the air,” she says matter-of-factly. “I sure hope I’m not the cause of it.” She sends me a wink.
“Long black, Auntie?” Rocco asks, not acknowledging what Hera has just said.
“Yes, please.”
“On it.” He turns away and starts preparing the coffee.
“Some of us are not having the best morning.” I lean over the counter and kiss Hera on the cheek.
“Does he have a stick up his ass over us?” Hera asks.
“I think, perhaps, he feels a bit left out,” I say.
“I can hear you, you know,” Rocco says.
“Good to know there’s nothing wrong with your hearing then,” I quip. “Only your loyalty to your best friend.”
“Rocco,” Hera says. “Come sit with me for a minute.” She winks at me again. “I’ll sort him out,” she whispers.
Rocco takes her coffee to the table furthest away from the counter. I’m still shocked by what he might have implied about me but, now that Hera’s here, I trust he’ll see things differently soon enough.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Hera
I look at my nephew. Even though he’s a grown man, I can still see the child in him.
“Great coffee.” I look around the place. “Good number of people in here, as well.” I take a sip. From the moment I left my house this morning, with Katherine still inside, I knew I wouldn’t be able to stay away from the Pink Bean today. I knew I had to see her again as quickly as possible.
Rocco chuckles half-heartedly. “I don’t need a talking-to in case that’s what the two of you are thinking.”
“I wouldn’t dream of giving you one.” I lean over the table. “Instead, let me tell you all you want to know.” A warm tingle spreads through me as I remember the sequence of events. “Kat invited me to hers last Sunday to have a look at her kitchen. We had a lovely meal. Then she invited me to Alyssa’s art show at the Griffith-Porter gallery, and we had a great time.” I suppress a giggle. ‘Great time’ sounds like the understatement of the century.
“I know all about the great time you had. Richard sent me a picture of you and Kat at the gallery.” He sighs. “I’m not upset because I didn’t know. Although I probably should have known, what with the way I’m always up in Kat’s business. Nor is it that she didn’t tell me about your dinner, which I’ve only just found about. In fact, it’s great that you get along now.” He briefly purses his lips. “Let’s be honest, that never really looked as if it was ever going to happen, did it?”
I shrug and take another sip from my coffee.
“It’s just that… now that I’m faced with the two of you together, it’s really weird for me. That’s the only way I can describe it.” He looks over his shoulder. “From the way you were making eyes at each other, I guess you’ll be seeing each other again.”
“I sure hope so.” I lean back and glance over at Katherine. She looks like the other version of herself again, all made-up and ready for the daytime. Already, I like all versions of her. “I know I didn’t give her a chance in the beginning. I was clearly wrong. She’s… pretty amazing.”
“It’s really strange for me to hear you say those words?” Rocco slants over the table. “Not only because you’re my aunt, and I’ve only ever known you to be with Sam, but also, well, because of the things you said about her when you started the renovation work here.”
I nod. “I fully accept that.” I’m not sure what else I can say. All throughout last night, from the moment Katherine showed up at my door, I’ve not given much thought to what she used to do.
“That’s it?” Rocco asks.
“I guess so.”
“I was a bit mean to her earlier.” He sits up straight again. “No one needs to convince me that Kat’s amazing. I’ve known that forever.”
“Now I know it too.” I shoot him a wide grin.
“Chris couldn’t believe it either.”
“How about you and Chris come over for dinner at mine soon?”
“That would be nice.” He narrows his eyes. “If Chris hadn’t had this work thing last night, I would most likely have been at the gallery myself, you know.”
“Good thing you like a nice surprise then.” I smirk at him.
He shakes his head. “It’s really not as funny as you think it is.” He has a grin on his lips regardless of what he just said.
“You’re right.” I drain the last of my coffee. After I put my cup down, I say, “I’m very serious about this.” I look Rocco in the eye. I can tell from his slightly frustrated facial expression that there are things he wants to share with me, but has decided against. Some things are better left unspoken. “I need to get back to work. I’ll give you a call soon.” I get up and stand next to him. I put an arm on his shoulder and give it a little squeeze. “Thanks for looking out for me,” I say, “but I’m plenty old enough to look out for myself.”
“What are you doing this weekend?” I ask Kat, after we’ve had the same old squabble again about me paying for my coffee.
“No plans,” she says coyly.
“Would you like to make some plans with me?” I ask.
“I thought you’d never ask.” She bats her lashes. “Come to the back for a minute.” She beckons me behind the counter.
I follow her into a small storage room, which is, completely according to my expectations, neatly organized along the principles of Rocco—he once explained them to me but being rather chaotic myself, I’ve long forgotten them.
She closes the door behind us and presses me against it. Her breasts push against mine and I feel the same heat as last night course through me.
“Maybe some more of this?” she whispers in my ear, before kissing my neck.
“Who can say no to that?” I push her away from me slightly. “You’ll have dust all over your dress if you keep this up.”
“Goodness,” she coos, “imagine what Rocco will have to say about that.”
“He’s under the mistaken impression I can’t fend for myself—or deal with a woman as wonderful as you.” I gaze into Katherine’s dark-brown eyes, wishing I didn’t have a job to go back to.
“I’d best not give him all the details about last night then.” Kat rubs herself against me again, clearly not caring which state it will leave her clothes in.
“You can tease him a little, though.” I pu
ll her in close. “He deserves it.” Before I kiss her, I ask. “Tonight?”
She nods her confirmation and then our lips meet, and it’s so easy to forget we’re in the storage room of the Pink Bean, when Katherine is pressed against me like this, and all I want to do is tear that dress off of her. But I can wait until tonight.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Kat
“Before you get any wild ideas in your head,” I say to Hera after she’s let me in and we’re standing in the living room, a little more awkwardly than I had anticipated, “I have to open the Pink Bean tomorrow.”
Hera regards me intently. “I’ll make sure you get your beauty sleep.”
I sigh. “I’m really feeling it.” I bridge the small distance between us. “Even though my new job is not nearly as emotionally taxing, my work hours are much longer. And I don’t get to have any more naps.” I run a finger up her bare arm. Hera’s freshly showered and is wearing a clean T-shirt. “I’ve always been a strong believer in the power of the nap.” I grin at her.
“Would you like to take a nap while I make us some dinner?” Hera puts her hands on my hips.
“That’s the problem. When I’m with you, I don’t feel like napping at all.”
Hera nods. “What do you feel like then?”
“I feel like doing this.” I drag my fingers higher up her arm, underneath her sleeve, and witness how her skin breaks out in goosebumps. Hera might not know it yet, but I’ve come here to seduce her. I have full faith in my powers of seduction—after all, they were my bread and butter for years. “And this.” My other hand softly brushes Hera’s neck, just above the edge of her T-shirt.
I hope Hera was only joking when I asked her, in jest, if she intended to make a pillow princess out of me. I need to taste her, feel her on my fingers. Find out what she looks like after she has come.
“You’re not hungry?” she asks, her breath catching in her throat.
“Only for you,” I say, knowing full well how cheesy that sounds.
“I seem to have quite an appetite for you as well.” Hera still has her hands on my hips and she tugs me to her. Before she kisses me, her lips curl into a small smile. She brings her hands to my back and holds me close, before going to work on my zipper. She must be really hungry then.
I let her strip me but I’ve come with my own agenda today. I’ll let her take the reins for a while—it obviously excites her—before I make my own move.
She has my dress in a puddle on the floor in no time and has already progressed to the clasp of my bra. Before I know it, I’m standing in Hera’s living room in just my underpants.
“Whatever happened to offering a girl a drink?” I ask.
“I’m not old-fashioned that way.” Hera grins at me. “Also, it’s a miracle I made it out of the site alive today, or without causing an accident. In fact, it should be illegal for me to go to work when under the influence of Katherine Jones.”
I burst into a chuckle. Hera’s desire for me is no match for my intentions. She comes alive when she has her hands on me and, in turn, it excites me beyond belief. But I will, at the very least, need her to take her T-shirt off before she goes any further. I start hoisting it over her chest, but she doesn’t let me. Instead, she pulls it off herself.
She’s wearing a sports bra so white, it must be brand new. It contrasts with her olive skin and I need to look away from her chest, into the bottomless pools of desire in her eyes, to stop myself from stripping her of that bra right there and then.
She presses herself against my side and launches an onslaught of kisses on my neck, while her hand already delves down. She briefly strokes my belly, her mouth meandering to my breast. As she sucks my nipple between her lips, her finger skates over my panties. I know what Hera means when she says that, all day long, she’s been distracted to the point of it being dangerous. After she left the Pink Bean, I spent every free minute daydreaming about something very much like the situation I’m in—although the roles were quite reversed.
But as I stand here, it’s impossible not to go with the flow Hera’s creating. Her determination is sexy. The clench of her teeth on my nipples is so light in its grasp but so firm in its intention, I soon want her to rip my panties off me and slide a finger inside me. God, how I want to feel her inside me.
Her finger circles my clit, while her lips are fastened around my nipple—as though she couldn’t let go of it even if she wanted to. I glance down at her strong neck, the muscles moving beneath her skin, straining to please me. Everything in her body working toward the same goal.
When she does finally let go, and she looks at me, her face is flushed, the lust in her glance multiplied.
“Come,” she says under her breath, and leads me to the sofa. Before I have the chance to sit down, she tugs off my underwear and, once again, I’m naked before her while she’s still half-dressed. I give her a look and she must be a fast learner. She unbuckles her belt and quickly gets rid of her jeans. Then she tilts her head as though asking, Is this what you wanted? A new rush of warmth spreads inside me. It’s definitely a big part of what I want.
I wrap my arms around her and hold her near-naked body against mine, inhaling her scent, reveling in the touch of her hard muscles beneath her soft skin.
“Lie down for me, please,” she whispers and, by now, she doesn’t have to ask me twice.
I lower myself onto the sofa and Hera crouches beside me. She kisses me and I throw my arms around her neck, while she pushes my bent leg up against the backrest. I can feel the air brush my wet lips, my swollen clit.
“God, you’re so beautiful,” Hera says, a crack in her voice that tells me she means it with all her being. “I want you so much. It’s crazy.”
But then her lips find my nipple again and while one of her hands grabs hold of my breast, the fingers of the other create patterns on my inner thigh. My exposure lifts my already growing arousal to boiling point again. This is how I am with her. Easy to combust. Ready for her when she wants me. And she wants me, there’s no getting away from that.
She lifts her head away from my breast and looks me in the eye while her finger zones in. She circles my clit, once, twice, ever so slowly. My breath starts to come out ragged. I want her too. Like this, in exactly the way she has maneuvered me into this position—outmaneuvered me, even. And now, my body is only desire, throbbing with impatience and anticipation, as my clit pulses under her touch.
She looks down at me, between my legs, so I only see the top of her head, and her robust shoulders. Her gaze on me there magnifies all the sensations I’ve been succumbing to again. Then, with that light, soft touch she has, she slowly slides the tip of her finger inside. She leaves it there, unmoving, and looks up again. It’s only when her gaze is firmly locked on mine, that she pushes her finger inside of me completely.
I moan and let my head fall back a little, while still keeping my gaze on hers. My limbs stiffen with pleasure. Hera’s fucking me and all the fires that I managed to dampen since she left her house this morning come roaring back to life, until, with her thumb deftly stroking my clit, they culminate into the fire to end all fires once again.
After I’ve come and Hera’s lying on the too small sofa with me as best as our two bodies can manage, I whisper in her ear, “Hello to you too.”
“Are you still hungry?” Hera asks.
“Absolutely ravenous.” I’m lying on my side and pull her close to me.
“Shall I make us some dinner?” I can feel her lips move against the skin of my neck as she speaks.
“Still not hungry for food yet.” I kiss her neck. “I want you.” I nibble at her earlobe. “I think I’ve waited long enough.” My hand travels down her back and halts at the clasp of her bra. This kind of model is too sturdy for me to undo with just one hand, so I try to maneuver my other hand behind her back, but we’re too closely pressed together.
“Any chance we can move this upstairs?” I ask.
“How about after dinner?” s
he says. “I need to eat something first.”
I’m not willing to let this go. Perhaps I haven’t made adequately clear how much I want her—a desire she must be able to understand, what with the way she just ravaged me as soon as I walked in the door. “Then let’s stay here.”
“Kat,” she says, and tries to push herself up. She slides half off the sofa and it seems to change the air between us, seems to transform it from electric to awkward. “Maybe later, okay?” Hera climbs to her feet and towers over me. “I really need to eat.”
“Do I detect some hanger in the builder?” I quip, trying to lighten the quickly darkening mood.
“I’ve been on my feet all day, doing some pretty heavy-duty work. I need fuel to keep going.” She stands there shifting from foot to foot, claiming to need food—which is a perfectly reasonable demand—but I can’t seem to shake the impression that she’s actually trying to say something else entirely.
“Okay.” I watch her find her jeans and T-shirt and slip them on swiftly.
She crouches down and puts her hands on my thigh. “You relax for a bit. Take a shower if you like. We can talk while we eat.”
I nod. She kisses me briefly on the cheek and then, barefoot and scrumptious, saunters to the kitchen.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Hera
After her shower, Katherine borrowed one of my T-shirts. It’s a bit short and small for her, making her look extra desirable. Her make-up has been washed off and, all throughout dinner, I couldn’t keep my eyes off her.
It’s only after we’ve nearly polished off a bottle of wine that I find the courage to say what is almost unsayable. We’ve retreated to the sofa we fooled around on earlier, Katherine leans heavily into me, and I revel in the pleasure her weight against me brings. The coziness it creates. How it makes this house feel more like my home again.
