Authors: Kirsty Dallas
“Harper, that’s crazy. I had nothing to do with your surfing, that’s all on you. You’re the one with the inhuman ability to walk on water.” He shook his head and put his iPad aside. Pulling the guitar from my lap, he dragged me to sit on his lap, my back resting against his chest.
“No, not true at all. When I first met that scruffy little beauty next door I found myself drawn to her in a way that I couldn’t explain. I wanted to take care of you, provide for you, be something more for you. From that moment onwards, everything I did I did it with you in mind, Breeze, and I know if I hadn’t met you, my life could easily have ambled on without meaning or care. I am what I am because of you.” His arms held me close to his chest like he was afraid to let me go. “This tattoo is my way of marking my love for you. It can never be removed or stolen from me, it’s permanent regardless of what happens in the future because my feelings for you will never change.”
“You’re going to make me cry,” I whispered.
“Then I best lighten the mood.” Harper began tickling me and my scream was caught somewhere between laughter and irritation. I begged him to stop and when he finally did he attacked my body in a whole other way. This time I begged him not to stop.
I finished my book later that night while Harper took a quick shower. My body was humming with a burning need that had been enflamed by one way too kinky erotic novel. I looked down at my skinny body covered only by a singlet and knickers. I remembered Harper’s reaction to some of my lacey underwear and suddenly found myself on a mission of seduction. I searched through my cute and sexy matching bras and knickers but had trouble finding something that screamed, ‘Bree wants you’. He had seen underwear like this on plenty of women before, there was nothing spontaneous fun or quirky about it which was how I viewed Harper. He liked fun and I wanted to be fun for him. Then I remembered a pair of knickers I had shoved in the bottom of my bag. They were my comfy undies. Plain yellow cotton with the words “I’d do anything for love” in red print on the front, and on the back they read “but I won’t do that”. I’d walked by them in Target a year ago and they made me giggle so I’d bought them. They weren’t hot and sexy, but they were comfy, they were cute and they were quirky. There was no matching bra but I decided I didn’t need one anyway. Harper was a breast man and he had proven more than once that he was happy with them just as they were. Now standing in just a cheeky pair of knickers and nothing more, I stood in the room feeling all sorts of not sexy. This attempt at seduction was lame. I threw myself down on the bed and rolled around until I finally found a position that I thought was provocative. The shower still ran as I lay there. After a quick glance sideways revealed my reflection in the mirror, I decided I looked more like a stick insect with jutting limbs than a seductress. I groaned and rolled back off the bed. I walked to the dresser and jumped up on the edge. It seemed like a great idea until the damn thing began to fall over. The bang was colossal and I cringed.
“Shit,” I cursed in a brief moment of un-Bree-like profanity.
“Breeze, you okay?” Harper called out, the shower turning off.
“I’m fine, just dropped something.” Now I was on my knees in nothing but a cute pair of knickers scrounging to pick everything up before Harper came out. Our iPods, sun tan lotion, keys, a Bible from goodness knows where, surf wax, and funny looking elbow tool thingies that Harper explained were for removing the fins from one of his boards. Dumping it all back into the dresser, I sunk down to my knees one more time reaching under the bed for my lip gloss which had conveniently rolled almost out of my reach and, of course, at that precise moment Harper opened the bathroom door.
“You won’t do what?” he asked after a moment. My fingers finally reached the lip gloss and I sighed. Bree, master of disaster rather than queen of seduction. I threw the lip gloss on the dresser, still on my knees with a stupid grin on my face. If only Harper had of been privy to the last ten minutes in this room, he would never let me live it down. “Oh, I get it,” Harper grinned. “You’ll do anything for love but you won’t do that.” He chuckled. “Interesting, I wonder if I could make you change your mind.” I was kind of shocked he was even suggesting it, but Harper was such a dominant and artful lover; I had a sneaking suspicion he could make me change my mind. In that moment, my inner woman strolled out from her bedroom, all sexy and tussled wearing a black G-string and a leather bustier, carrying a whip. Her smile was wicked and I knew mine matched it as I took in Harper’s still wet body with a towel slung low on his hips. “What the hell are you thinking right now?” he murmured. I glanced up at his lust filled eyes and licked my lips.
“I’m thinking of crossing a never off my list.” Harper stood still in the doorway to the bathroom.
“Never would I miss an opportunity to help you cross off a never.” He smiled mischievously. “What do you want me to do?” he asked. I stood and moved across the room to him, taking one of his hands I raised it to the doorframe at about head height and encouraged him to grip it tightly. I did the same with his other hand and then slowly drew the towel from around his waist.
“Don’t move.” I smiled, remembering the words he had whispered in my ear on the couch yesterday. I sank to my knees before him, his cock seemed to strain for my lips. I took it in my hand and began to leisurely stroke it, amazed at the silky texture wrapped around such a rigid, firm length. I glanced up Harper’s body, the tension was obvious, the hunger clear. “I suggest you hold on.” I took him in my mouth. I had absolutely no idea if what I was doing was right, but I had read enough books to give me a clue and Harper’s groans and shallow thrusts were a clear sign that I was doing it right. He tasted like the ocean, slightly salty and I loved it. I loved this power I could somehow wield over him, I loved that I made him crazy like this and I felt every bit the skilled temptress right now, rather than the bumbling fool from earlier. My inner woman was purring with satisfaction. So when he pulled me away with a resigned groan I was more than a little annoyed. Harper simply chuckled and pulled me to my feet. Then, within seconds, he had me on my back on the bed showing me just how undone I had made him.
Finally, after what seemed like hours later, we lay in a tangle of limbs, Harper’s fingers following an unplanned path across my shoulders and back.
“I never got my story today.” His husky voice was sexy as hell and I tried to snuggle closer. We were already skin to skin but I wanted more, needed more. Another story? My mind was in a place where thoughts were few and far between, completely sated. Finding a story was the last thing I could be bothered doing. “Breeze, this is a road trip deal, you can’t break it.” I sighed a long-suffering groan.
“Can I replace the story with a song?” Harper spent a long time mulling over this and finally relented.
“Only if it’s a happy song. You pull out any Avril Lavigne miserable bullshit and I will spank your ass red.” My eyes must have blazed with unfathomable desire as he added, “And don’t think you can just skip straight to the spanking, I want my song.” I grabbed one of Harper’s shirts off the ground, quickly pulled it over my head and raced into the living room to grab my guitar. As I settled back down on the bed, my legs tucked underneath me Harper stretched. He was laying on his back, his hands clasped behind his head, the sheet riding dangerously low on his hips and his body suddenly looking way too tempting. The smug grin on his face confirmed he knew what I was thinking. Well, two could play at this game. Carefully placing the guitar aside for a moment, I reached for the hem of my shirt and pulled it over my head. I reached for the guitar again, wearing nothing but my skin. At first I felt awkward, but the way Harper’s eyes followed the dips and hollows of my body and became frustrated when they reached the guitar that hid my chest and lap was strangely satisfying. I gave him an equally self-righteous smile as I began to play Jewel’s
You Were Meant for Me
. It was how I summed up our relationship and the last year. We had been meant for each other but just couldn’t make it happen. I didn’t look at Harper once while I played, I already felt self-conscious enough, but once I finished and did chance a look his way, the intensity in his eyes caused the breath in my lungs to catch. Harper was staring at me, his eyes no longer roaming my body with lust, his taut body caught somewhere between ready to lunge and careful restraint. Those eyes of blue that had always amazed me were fixed on mine.
“We’re perfect for each other, you know that?” he finally whispered. I put the guitar aside feeling suddenly a little vulnerable and far too naked. “You complete me. Ever since I first met you I felt complete and now, now I just feel like the world has sighed its approval and allowed us to love each other the way we were made to.” He sat up, his face and eyes now level with mine. “Not a damn thing can come between us, Breeze, not surfing, not travel not even death. You live in here now.” He took my hand and placed it over his heart, his tree of life. I leant forward and kissed him. My elegant words were trapped inside, needing a fresh sheet of paper to take shape, so instead of saying how I felt I put all my love and emotion into one kiss, into one moment. For the first time, I allowed myself to believe in a future with Harper. A real future, not something manufactured in my mind, not hope but a real, long, loving life with Harper Somerville.
Later the next evening we drove to a nearby surf club and enjoyed the best roast chicken and vegetables I have ever had, or perhaps I was just starving. After cleaning off everything on my plate, I slid my chair closer to Harper and proceeded to help him finish his own. He didn’t complain, he simply cast me an amused sideways glance as he concentrated on the numbers flashing across the keno screen. I couldn’t understand his draw to the bingo style game he insisted on playing every time he found himself in a surf club. It’s not like he needed the money and the game itself was boring as bat poop. It amazed me that Harper could sit still long enough to watch the numbers flash up one by one. Even I was beginning to get antsy as we sat in companionable silence. Three young guys had taken control over the pool table and I slipped away from Harper to place a coin on the cushion. This was the language of a game of pool, it indicated that I would play the winner of the current game. When I moved back to our table, Harper’s eyes were glaring daggers in spades at someone behind me. I glanced over my shoulder to see the three guys standing around awkwardly and looking anywhere but in our direction.
“What?” I demanded, my hands on my hips. Harper’s attention moved to me and he pushed out the chair so I could sit down beside him. “No, butthead, what just went down with the Dr. Evil stare down you just had with Larry, Mo and Curly back there.” A small grin threatened to crack his cool calm exterior.
“Larry, Mo and Curly? Seriously, Breeze, that’s a new record for lameness. Were you secretly born in the 1930’s?” I didn’t answer nor did I move. Harper shrugged. “They were checking you out.” My eyebrows raised. “They were checking your ass out,” he grumbled. I glanced back at the guys who were doing their best to ignore us now. I sat down beside Harper. I was pretty stoked to think someone found my bony ass interesting enough to stare at. Of course Harper had a fascination for it, but he was biased. It was nice to know others still found me attractive in some way. I smiled. “You like that they were checking you out?” Harper said surprised. I shrugged.
“I guess it’s nice to know that I’m not butt ugly. Anyway, girls are always checking you out and I have to deal with it, it’s a nice role reversal, don’t you think?” Harper leant back in his chair and eyed me thoughtfully for a moment.
“Taking you on the tour is going to be a major exercise in restraint where I’m concerned. In case you hadn’t noticed before, I’m kinda possessive about things that are mine.” I just about spat my drink across the table.
“I’m a thing?” I balked.
“No, baby girl, you are my heart, therefore, the one thing I am most possessive about.” He looked back up to the keno game before him and my inner woman let out a little sigh. Bugger him. He had to go and say something totally amazing and ruin the temper tantrum I was about to unleash.
The group of men who had been playing unceremoniously disappeared and I pouted. Now who the hell was I going to play? If I didn’t do something soon, my boredom would tip into insanity.
“Don’t worry, baby girl, I’ll play you and I promise to go easy.” I snorted. I didn’t need anyone to go easy on me, I played a damn good game of pool. People often joked that Sean, Harper and I obviously spent too many hours in a pub during our youth. I racked up the balls and chose a cue while Harper grabbed himself another beer. I picked up the coin from the side of the table.
“Wanna toss to see who breaks?” Harper grinned at me.
“Ladies first, break away.” He waved toward the table. Arrogant ass! I placed the white ball on the line and leant over the table. I slid the cue back and forth over my splayed fingers before hitting the ball with a loud crack. The eight balls at the other end of the table were smacked apart, rolling in all directions.
“Nice break,” Harper said a little too condescendingly. Without any balls down, he was free to take his own shot. He sunk the yellow striped ball easily, followed quickly with the purple. With the balls spread around the table, I found the solid red and lined it up for the corner pocket. Harper’s body shifted into my line of vision as I prepared to take my shot. His pool cue was over his shoulders, his arms lifted up to hold it on either side. His shirt had slid up revealing a teasing glimpse of the smooth corded stomach that sat just above jeans riding a little too low. Son of a… He smirked as my eyes met his. Trying desperately to find the indifference I needed right now, I refocused my attention on the red ball and pocketed it effortlessly. When I moved around the table to line up the green ball, Harper’s blistering heat seeped through the back of my legs as he invaded my personal space.
“Harper,” I growled. I felt his hands graze my ass as I slid the cue over my fingers once more and hit the white ball. It missed the green by a mile. “You are so going down,” I whispered as I moved away. Harper laughed as he found his next shot. I moved casually around the table and in a not so subtle move I gripped the hem of my singlet and raised it a little, running my fingers across my stomach with what I hoped was a somewhat seductive pose. When I noticed Harper’s eyes watching intently, I leant forward and placed my elbows on the table’s cushion. This gave him a perfect view down my top. Still smiling, Harper’s attention moved back to his shot and he took it, sinking the ball. Butt-munch! He took another shot and I didn’t bother trying to distract him anymore, when Harper became focused on something he became a man on a mission. On my next shot though my mind was anywhere but on the game as he pressed against my side and whispered in my ear.