He holds a glass with a dark liquid in it. He taps his finger on the cut crystal and stares out at the blinking city skyline, as if in a trance. The suit jacket he wore is draped over the couch. His tie hangs loosely, the knot over his sternum, and several buttons on his shirt undone.
He looks so stressed again.
“Hey,” I say and stroke his cheek. “What are you doing out here?”
He closes his eyes momentarily, as if in pain, and when he opens them, they’re glassy. His voice is hoarse. “You were sleeping and... God, I fucked up already.”
I straddle him and cup his cheeks, breathing in his leather, roasted almond, and lavender scent.
He takes a deep breath and clenches his jaw. “I’m such an ass.”
“Shh.” I lean forward and kiss him. His tongue tastes of Scotch, and his hand slides into my hair.
“Harper...”
I slide my tongue back in his mouth, and he sets his glass on the table and wraps his arm around me, tugging me closer. His hand glides under the fabric of my panties, and he palms my bottom, stroking the slit of my ass, sending shivers down my spine.
“Rough day?” I murmur.
“Yeah.” His blue eyes are bloodshot from a lack of sleep and are full of guilt. “I can’t believe I missed dinner and your messages.”
“Shh.” I stroke his hair. “You need sleep.”
“Tell me what you did today.” He tugs my hair back and licks my neck from my collarbone to my jaw then slides his teeth across it to my earlobe.
The exquisite ache I never knew before him tugs at my core, spinning in my loins. “Hope and I went exploring.”
He sucks on my ear. His hot breath is like a fan blowing tingles on my skin. “Where to?”
“Michigan Ave. and the Riverwalk.”
“Did you like it?” His finger slides past my ass and into my wet sex.
I gasp, and he slides another one in.
“Hmm?” he asks, wanting an answer to his question, twisting his fingers while gently biting my neck.
“Yes,” I whimper, pushing down on him, wanting any part of him to fill me.
“Are you missing New York?”
“No,” I squeak out.
He brushes his lips on mine. “Why aren’t you upset with me?”
I don’t answer. I can’t. Zings race through my body, and I dig my knees into the cold leather, arch my back, and push his head to my chest.
He scrapes his stubble on my cleavage and pushes the silk of my robe to the side. His hot mouth pulls at my already puckered nipple, and he slides his tongue around it, hardening it further.
“I need you in me,” I cry out, rocking on his hand but needing more.
He slides his fingers out, unzips his pants, and slides me onto him.
“Oh...” I whimper, trembling from every inch of him.
A deep groan vibrates against my breast, rumbling into the air. His strong hands grip my hips, moving me with force, urgent and needy. Lips and tongues collide, desperate and hungry. The sweet smell of sex competes with the scent of his intoxicating skin.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs.
I grasp his face. Guilt and disappointment lace through it. “Shh.” I brush my lips to his. Our mouths open upon contact, ferociously consuming each other, as if we may somehow disappear.
I glide my hands in his shirt, digging into the bare flesh of his shoulders. My body buzzes, on the edge, and ready to fly. “Steven. Harder. Oh God. Please.”
He grunts and complies, slamming me so hard on him, I combust into pieces, falling into the curve of his neck, and spasming on his swelling cock as it pumps hard in me.
Hope cries out.
“I’ll get her,” he says.
“No. You go to bed. You need sleep.”
“I haven’t helped today.”
“You did this morning. Go to sleep. I’ll be in soon.”
Worry flies into his eyes. “Harper—”
I put my finger over his lips. “Go to bed.”
He finally nods, and I peck him on the lips, then attend to Hope. When she falls asleep, I sneak into the room and slide under the covers.
Steven pulls me into his arms. His warm skin hums against mine, and everything feels safe, which I realize I haven’t felt in years. He quietly asks, “Why aren’t you upset with me?”
I look up at him. “You’re supposed to be sleeping, not worrying.”
“I need to know. I feel horrible I didn’t look at my phone and I... I got wrapped up in my day and didn’t think. I’m not used... I don’t...” He releases a heavy breath.
“You’re not used to uncertainty.”
“I wasn’t going to say that.”
“No? Then what were you going to say?”
He thinks a moment. “I’m not used to having to think about anyone being at home, waiting for me.”
“I understand.”
“But I shouldn’t have been late and not called. And you have a right to be angry with me.”
“Did you have a crazy, busy day?”
“Yes.”
“Did you intentionally decide not to contact me?”
“No.”
“Were you stressed out every second of your workday?”
He swallows hard. “Yes.”
“Did you feel bad when you realized what time it was and that you missed our dinner?”
“Yes.”
“If you had a do-over, would you pause and look at the time and call me?”
“Yes.”
“Then why should I be upset with you?”
“It doesn’t make it right.”
“No. But it makes you human.”
Silence.
“How are your quads?”
“Normal, minus the typical sore muscles from a good session.”
“Good. Get some sleep. We have to get up early tomorrow. You’re working out, and I’m reheating lasagna for breakfast.”
He strokes my cheek. “You aren’t mad at me?”
“No. I’m worried about you.”
“I’m fine.”
“There’s your fine again.”
His bloodshot eyes drill into mine. “Then tell me why I’m not fine.”
“You have the weight of the world on your shoulders. Your work hours are plain unhealthy. And you were up all night giving me orgasms, and I should have made sure you slept.”
His lips twitch. “I like giving you orgasms.”
I slide my fingers into his hair and slowly kiss him, but it deepens and grows, as does his erection. He pulls me on top of him, and I end the kiss. “Sleep tonight.”
“But I only get so much time with you and then you’re leaving.”
The truth is the elephant in the room. It’s the reason we don’t make sense. It’s the rationale for us not to be together. And my heart slowly rips.
“Then tomorrow, you’ll be at work by six thirty and leave at seven and not a minute after.”
“Harper—”
I kiss him with everything I have. When I pull away, I murmur, “Go to sleep. I’ll let you spoon me all night.” I quickly scoot down and turn then kiss his arm.
He doesn’t argue and obeys, holding me and laying his body against my flesh. And it feels like a security blanket.