Music to my fucking ears right now. It’s all I want, to see her crest that hill and plummet down into her pleasure. I want to watch her lose control, to see her walls come crashing down while she falls apart, unguarded and not trying to hide anything from me.
Everything about her is beautiful.
The moonlight falls over her bare shoulder and caresses her neck as her head falls back. Her lips are parted, soft moans escaping from her lips as her pleasure builds.
It might just be a phantom feeling, but it seems like I can feel the pulse of her pussy, the way she winds closer and closer to her orgasm. I can only imagine how hot and wet she is right now, and if we were somewhere more private, I would flip her over and investigate myself.
I can smell it, though, the heady scent of her arousal as it mingles with her own fresh bread and warm rain scent, and it’s intoxicating.
I feel more drunk on it than I ever have from the burn of whiskey, and pleasure beats through me strong and all consuming. I’m close now too, chasing on Harper’s heels, and I groan her name, digging my fingers into her.
“Oh god,” she moans. “Oh fuck, right there.Oh?—”
She bucks wildly, working her pussy over my cock like her life depends on it, taking what she wants in a way that makes my pulse speed up even more.
And then she’s crying out quietly, her body going taut against me as she rides out the waves of her orgasm.
If there was nothing between us, I might have been able to feel the gush of wetness, but as it is, the way she looks and sounds and feels against me is enough to send me right over the edge again. I spill into my pants like a fucking teenager, biting my lip to hold back the grunt of pleasure that follows.
For a second, the only sound is our ragged breathing. Harper’s eyes go wide as she realizes what happened, and she looks down as if she can see the spreading wetness in my pants—the evidence that what we did went both ways.
Before either of us can say anything about it, a sound from upstairs freezes us in place.
At first, I think it’s Cash or Lincoln getting up, and I brace myself to be found in a compromising position like this, but then I realize it’s too high pitched to be either one of them.
“That’s Cora,” Harper says, all traces of bliss and satisfaction wiped from her face.
We scramble apart immediately, and Harper takes a second to get herself together before dashing for the stairs. She looks back, just once, her eyes falling on the wet spot on my pants now that her body isn’t covering it anymore.
“Go,” I tell her gently. “That’s more important.”
She nods and then goes upstairs, leaving me alone to flop back against the couch completely. I drag an arm over my face and suck in a deep breath.
It’s a mistake, since the mingled scents of our orgasms are still thick in the air, and all it does it make me want her all over again.
I’m in way over my head with this woman, and I know it.
Chapter 23
Harper
It was bad enough when I’d just hooked up with Cash. Then there was that moment with Lincoln, and while neither of them could be ignored, at least I could pretend they were spur of the moment decisions. Momentary blips of insanity. But what happened with Everett in the living room officially makes it a pattern, and realizing that leaves me even more turned on and confused about my place in this house.
It was never supposed to happen like this. It was supposed to just be a temporary place to stay while I got my shit together enough to leave, and now…
Now it’s spiraled out of control.
I can’t lie to myself and say I’m not attracted to all three men. They’re attractive, and everyone knows that. But at least before, it was all theoretical. I didn’t have to face the reality of any of it. Now that I’ve been intimate in various ways with all three of them, it’s become so much more real. And of course I have no idea what any of it means or where it’s leading.
“It’s not like I can just ask either,” I mutter to myself in the shower. “I’m sure that would go over so well. Wander down to breakfast like, ‘hey so now that I’ve rubbed up against all three ofyou, I was wondering what the fuck is going on here’. Yeah, that would go over so well.”
There’s nothing for it but to turn these thoughts over and over in my head, tying myself into knots about it because that’s somehow less embarrassing than discussing it with the three of them.
I’m lucky that things sort of go back to normal over the next couple of days. I have work and the men are busy, so there aren’t very many lingering glances or moments where I have to fight not to blush when one of them looks at me.
And then a couple days after the incident with Everett, Cora has a meltdown in the living room.
I’ve avoided sitting down there as much as possible, but it has the most space for Cora to play, so I sit in one of the chairs, keeping an eye on her while scrolling on my phone.