Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
“Wow,” she breathes, dropping her head onto my shoulder and nuzzling her face into the crook of my neck. “I never knew it could feel like this.”
I wrap my arms around her body and hold her tight. “It’s not always like this,” I tell her. “As a matter of fact, for me, it never is.” She lifts her face and locks eyes with me. I kiss her mouth. “It’s us, Harp. It feels like this because it’s you and me.”
She sucks in her bottom lip and nods. “It’s all my fault,” she chokes out, tears filling her eyes.
“Whoa, what’s wrong?” I ask. “What’s your fault?”
A fat tear runs down her cheek and I wipe it away. I hate when Harper cries. It feels like my heart is being ripped from my chest.
“Everything,” she sobs.
I stifle a laugh at her dramatics. Surely, everything isn’t her fault. “You’re going to have to be a bit more specific, baby.”
“The reason we aren’t together. Why I married Richard.” Her cries turn harder.
“Harper, it’s not your fault,” I say. “I was hours away. You couldn’t have known I would get moved up to the Majors. You moved on.”
“But that’s just it,” she cries. “I didn’t move on.”
When she backs up slightly, she pulls on my now-soft dick, reminding me I’m still inside her. “How about we get cleaned up and dressed, and we can talk over dinner?” I suggest.
“Okay.” She nods.
When we step into the hall, she glances around her like she’s not sure where to go. “Bathroom?” I mention with a laugh, then point toward my paint-covered body.
“Yeah.” She snorts a nervous laugh. “Umm… there’s a bathroom right down the hall. There are towels under—” Oh, hell no. We most definitely aren’t showering separately.
Before she can finish her sentence, I cut her off by pulling her into my arms. She has a sheet wrapped around her body and when I tug on her, it comes loose and pools around her feet. “We’re taking a shower together,” I murmur against her lips. “In your bathroom.”
She swallows loudly but nods in agreement. “Okay.”
With our fingers laced together, I follow her through her bedroom and into her bathroom. She tries to let go of my hand, but I’m not having it. I can feel her trying to push me away and I’m not about to let that happen. Reaching into the shower, I turn the water on. While we wait for it to heat up, I lift her onto the sink, and spreading her thighs, step between them.
My eyes meet hers and she bites down on her bottom lip nervously. It reminds me of the way she would act when we first started having sex when we were younger. She was always self-conscious of her body. Never believing me when I would tell her how fucking perfect she was—still is.
“You’re covered in paint,” I say, drawing a line from the pink splotches covering her cheek to the blue ones splashed across her neck. She shivers and I love that just my touch alone can affect her in such a way. “If you behave this way in your classroom, you’re going to have all those pubescent, hormonal boys drooling over you while covering their hard-ons.”
Harper’s eyes go wide. “Oh my God! That’s not true.”
“Fuck yes, it is.” I nod. “If you were my teacher, I would definitely be hitting on you. Staying after school for some special hands-on art tutoring.” I wink and she throws her head back with a laugh.
“You’re such a perv.” She pushes my chest playfully. “Let’s get cleaned up before the paint dries.”
Lifting her off the sink, I carry her into the shower and set her down under the spray of hot water. Grabbing the loofah she has hanging, I squirt some body wash onto it and then get to work scrubbing the paint off her body. I start with her face and move down her neck. When I get to her luscious tits, I give them extra special attention to make sure every spec has been removed. I quickly scrub her belly, so I can move on to the main attraction.
When I bend so I’m parallel with her perfectly trimmed pussy, she tries to close her legs, but I shake my head. “Open,” I command, and she obeys. I scrub the streaks of green and orange paint off her inner thighs, then work my way up, until I’m gently scrubbing her pussy.
“I’m pretty sure there’s no paint in there,” she says with sass, glancing down. One corner of her mouth is pulled into a knowing smirk.
“Doesn’t hurt to double-check.” I shrug.
“My turn,” she says, grabbing the loofah and backing up. I pout, annoyed I didn’t get more time with her pussy, but still stand so she can scrub me.
As she runs the loofah all over my body, scrubbing certain areas harder than others, I take a moment to look at Harper. I never imagined in a million years she would ever come back into my life, but here she is, standing in the shower with me. I know we have a lot to talk about, and we’ve only just reconnected, but I’m going to make damn sure she never walks away from me again.