This was gearing up to be the most mortifying conversation of my life, but when had I ever been so honest with a prospective partner? It was scary but also refreshing.
“We need to talk terms,” I started. “I don’t know if you’re a big sleepovers guy?—”
“Yes,” he interrupted.
I giggled. “Right, should have guessed. This is our second in a short period of time. But given Liam’s reaction to that first one, I don’t know if we can do it again when he’s here. And if he’s here, I don’t want to leave him alone.”
“I’d never expect you to choose me over him. If he’s here, you’re busy. I get that.” Harlan put a hand on top of my foot, still buried under the covers. “You take the lead on if, how, and when to include Liam. And you make the final decision for work. You have more at stake than I do.”
Who knew he had this kind of respect and understanding in him when he was the guy sneaking food out of my prep area and annoying me to the high heavens? “I don’t even know what the rules are at work.”
He lifted a shoulder. “Rules can be changed. I think if we eventually decide we want people to know, it’s better for us to come to them on a solid foundation than to be two fools runningaway together because bickering makes us horny, consequences be damned.”
I laughed and chewed my bottom lip, thinking. I admired the man sitting at my feet. Harlan wasn’t just a daddy when we were fucking around. He held that strong, grounding role here too. “And here I thought goalies were weird. Turns out you’re more grown up than most men of any age. I’ve worried about having to be the grown-up with you, that if we did give in, I’d be the responsible one. I thought your playfulness meant you were immature. But it doesn’t.” I picked up my coffee mug and held it in the air between us. “Let’s do it. Secret for now, but not secret forever.”
He clinked his mug to mine. “Not secret forever. Cheers, Chef.”
We both drank deeply, then Harlan set his mug down and took mine from my hands. He pulled me out of bed by my hand and, once I was standing, dipped to throw me over his shoulder. “Now,” he said, lifting me. I shrieked and he talked over me, “I heard there’s this princess who needs a shower.”
“Oh my god, Harlan! I’m going to hit my head on the doorframe.”
“Not if you cooperate,” he argued back. He put me on my feet in the bathroom and figured out how to turn on my shower. I started the process of brushing my teeth, and when I was finished, he snapped his fingers at me. “Come on. Clothes off. We don’t want you late for work.”
“Geez.” I shoved my shorts down and by the time I had my shirt pulled over my head, Harlan was bent over naked by the shower, testing the water temperature.
That was too easy an opportunity to pass up. I scampered up behind him and slapped his ass as hard as I could. He yelped and jumped. “Hey!”
“For all the times you used my kitchen without my permission. Karma’s a bitch.”
I did not like the glint in his eye. “You’re right, Chef. Karma is a bitch. Get in the shower for me.”
Nerves shot through me as I stepped into the shower, standing back so he had room to get in too.
“Come here, princess.” With tender care, he dipped my hair into the spray, using his fingers to spread the water through my hair. He filled his hand with shampoo and got to work. I was surprised when his fingers massaged my scalp.
“This is . . . nice,” I hedged.
“I am, after all, a nice guy,” he said. He rained kisses onto my neck and shoulders, his erection bumping against my stomach. I dropped my hand to drag my fingers over it, a move that made Harlan close his eyes and smile. “And you are such a nice girl.”
He took down the showerhead and rinsed out my hair. Then, he twisted the dial until it put out a singular, steady stream. “Ass against the wall. Legs wide.”
I opened my legs and leaned back against the cool tile. Harlan started by kissing me, slow and deep, while the stream of water circled one nipple. He dipped to suck the other, swirling his tongue in time with how the water circled my other nipple. “Oh, fuck.”
I reached for his cock and gave it a firm tug. He tipped his head back at the pleasure, which I took as an opportunity to softly suck his neck.
I went up on my toes, searching for some way, any way, to fit him inside me. I pressed his tip against my entrance and he hissed through his lips.
“Trying to tempt me?” he growled.
“I’m trying to get fucked,” I protested.
“The greediest.”
“I have to get to work!”
“And you will,” he said, dropping the showerhead and training the stream of water right to the top of my slit. “After I play with you.”
I made an embarrassingly needy noise into a kiss, savoring the taste of his mouth and the way he kissed me like he wasn’t bringing me to the brink. One of those massive hands pinned me to the wall at my throat, his fingers long enough that nothing was constricted. He left me feeling simultaneously secure and untamed, unleashed but with the softest guard rails.