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“Right.” She rolls her eyes.
I take her hand in mine, interlocking our fingers together. “It’s not a lie,” I say, reminding her of our pact.
She lets out a slow breath, then moves closer to me. I open my arms, allowing her to lie on my chest, and hold her. Words evade us, and I imagine a life where we could be together.
The two of us stay just like this for only God knows how long, and if I had the ability to freeze time and live in this very moment forever, I would.
15
HARPER
My eyes flutter open, adjusting to the morning glow of sunrise. For a moment, I lie still, savoring the peaceful silence, and a smile touches my lips. Memories of yesterday by the pond flood back—the closeness we shared, the way Brody looked at me, the almost kiss that still tingles on my lips, even though it never happened.
My pulse races, and a warm, restless ache spreads through me. I’ve thought about kissing Brody Calloway more times than I care to admit. I have years of fantasies of us being together. But yesterday was different. Yesterday was real.
“You’re my purpose, Harp.”
I release a slow, shaky breath as my need becomes impossible to ignore. Glancing toward the closed bedroom door, I listen carefully to the sounds in the cabin. Silence answers back, and I know Brody’s probably already awake, sitting somewhere quiet, sipping his coffee, and staring thoughtfully into the sunrise. A thrill slides beneath my skin at the thought of him waiting for me.
Unable to resist the restlessness simmering inside me, I slip silently from beneath the sheets and move toward the bathroom. The door clicks shut behind me as I step into the shower, turning the water to a comforting warmth. Steam fills the room quickly, surrounding me, and I undress, stepping under the stream. The water eases the tightness in my shoulders, but does nothing to calm the fire building between my legs.
Closing my eyes, I lean back against the cool tiled wall, water cascading down my skin in hot streams.
I let myself drift into the fantasy I’ve had for years—Brody’s broad, strong hands exploring my body; his fingers tracing my ribs, gripping my hips, pulling me against him with the possessive urgency I’ve always craved from him.
A soft gasp slips from my lips as my palms begin to move, mimicking the path I want Brody’s hands to take. My fingertips brush the curve of my breasts before teasing the sensitive peaks as I think about his hungry mouth capturing me.
Pleasure rises slowly, my breathing turning shallow as I picture his blue eyes locked on mine, his expression full of desire and need, which matches my own.
My hand trails lower, slipping between my thighs, finding slick, aching heat as I imagine Brody’s deep voice whispering against my skin, telling me how beautiful I am, how I’m his purpose.
Intense pleasure sparks through me, my breath hitching as my fingers circle my clit. I can barely stand as I fantasize about taking the kiss we nearly shared yesterday. I slide a finger inside, feeling my walls clench tight. I need him. It’s a need so damn deep and raw and passionate.
Intensity builds quickly now, and the impending orgasm tightens low in my stomach as my breathing quickens.
I whisper his name, desperate beneath the rushing water, imagining Brody’s muscular body pinning mine firmly against the wall. His strength is protective, possessive, and perfect. My hips arch instinctively toward my hand, and my pleasure rises higher, deeper, brighter as I return to my clit, giving myself everything I want from him.
My body trembles, and I can’t hold on much longer. As my eyes slam shut, the orgasm rips through me. I let out a soft cry, shuddering as I fall over the edge. Powerful waves wash over me, leaving me trembling, my knees weak and chest heaving beneath the steaming spray.
I lean against the wall, trying to catch my breath, not remembering the last time I came so hard.
Suddenly, there’s a knock on the bathroom door, jolting me from the lingering haze. My heart leaps into my throat, eyes flying wide.
“Harper?” Brody’s voice calls through the door, concerned. “Everything okay in there?”
Flushed and panicked, I press a hand to my racing heart, quickly gathering my voice. “Yeah.” I clear my throat. “Yeah, everything’s fine,” I manage, squeezing my thighs tightly together, as if to hide the truth, even from myself. “Just dropped the soap. Sorry.”
There’s a slight pause, and then I hear the unmistakable smile in his voice when he asks, “You sure about that?”
Embarrassment mingles with a fresh thrill of excitement.
I bite my lip to keep from laughing, trying to sound more convincing. “I’m fine! Really.”
He chuckles through the door, his voice dropping into something warmer, sexier. “Well, if you ever need any help next time … just let me know.”
My breath catches again—for entirely different reasons—and I bite my lip, wishing he would. I cover my face with my hands, wondering if he heard my desperate whimpers.
“I’ll remember that,” I tease. I envision the sparkle in his eyes and the smirk I’m sure he’s wearing right now.