Page 42

HARLOW

When I wake, I feel better than I have in days—until I try to stretch my legs out and find that I can’t. Something, or someone, is in the way.

Brooke never cuddl … fuck .

Cracking one eye open, I risk a look at the arm that’s wrapped tightly around my waist.

It’s definitely too hairy and tattooed to belong to Brooke.

“Morning,” he murmurs in his deep, husky voice, and I tense.

“C-Corey, what are you doing?”

“Well, I was sleeping, until you turned into stone beneath me. Relax,” he encourages, pulling me deeper into his body.

I allow it, but only because it feels too damn good after so long. I’ve craved this feeling. The contentment, the feeling of safety that comes only when I’m in his arms.

“W-why are you here?”

“Because you need me, and because we need to talk.”

“I never said I needed?—”

“Shh.” His lips press to my bare shoulder, and I shudder. It’s such a simple move, but I feel it all the way down to my toes. “I’m so sorry for freaking out. I was blindsided by it, and my anger took over.”

“I was just trying to help,” I whisper back.

“I know. I know I should have been thanking you, not shouting at you. I just … I’m not used to anyone helping me out, and I didn’t know how to deal with it.”

“I should have talked to you about it.”

“Yes.” His lips press against my heated skin once again. “You.” Kiss. “Should.” Kiss. “Have.”

My heart begins to race as heat floods my core. It’s a welcome relief from the sickness I seem to get every morning right now. That thought has a lead weight settling in my belly.

He’s right. We have a lot to talk about.

As much as I want to do this with the barrier that’s between us right now, my need to look into his eyes has me flipping over in his arms.

“Hey,” he whispers, his blue eyes twinkling with delight and naughty thoughts.

“Hey.” Everything inside me relaxes, just knowing that he’s here. Everything that I’ve been through in the past week or so feels that much easier to bear.

“I’m so sorry about your aunt, Harlow.”

I nod, a huge lump forming once again in my throat. Will losing her ever get easier, or will I forever picture her lying in that hospital bed in her final minutes?

“I’ve been here almost every day trying to see you, trying to tell you how sorry I am. I should have pushed harder. I’m sorry.”

“N-no, it’s okay. I didn’t want … I couldn’t …” I sigh, not able to find the right words to express how I’ve felt the past few days.

“It’s okay. I get it.”

Knowing he’s lost people he cared about, I tell myself that he really does. He must, or he’d still be angry at me. I shut him out, ignored him, yet here he is, with his arm wrapped around me and looking into my eyes, just like I remember.

I close my eyes for a beat as I prepare the words I need to say to him.

“My family.” He nods to tell me he’s listening.

“My dad … he owned vineyards. A lot of them, actually. He’d taken a step back from running the business when my sister and I were babies.

He said it took too much of his time, and we were more important.

So, he brought in a team to manage the business, and he just oversaw it.

“When they died, all that fell to me. It was put into trust until I was twenty-one, thankfully, but then everything was mine.”

“Fucking hell,” he mutters, his eyes not leaving mine for even a second.

“I don’t want anything to do with it. I can’t. It reminds me too much of them, of everything I’ve lost. But that doesn’t stop the money coming in. I don’t need it. I certainly don’t earn it. But it’s mine, nonetheless.

“I donate a lot of it, and until my current job, I’ve only taken voluntary positions. But I couldn’t turn down the chance combining my two passions. To give talented kids a chance achieve their dreams.”

“You do more than they’re aware of, don’t you?” he asks, narrowing his eyes at me.

“I might, yeah.” I think of my wages every month being wired straight back into the foundation, and the prizes I’ve organized for the ball. “Fuck. The gala.”

“It’s okay, Reese has it under control,” he soothes, cupping my cheek in his hand and brushing his thumb over my skin.

“I need to call her, make sure everything is okay.”

“Everything is okay. Just chill.”

I nod at him, although I do anything but relax, and I have no doubt he can sense it.

“Just focus on you. Everything else is totally under control.”

He leans forward, his lips gently brushing mine.

“For now, just let me look after you. Let me do what I’ve been desperate to do, to make up for screwing this up.”

“Corey, I?—”

“No, Harlow. It’s my turn. I’m so fucking sorry. I was an idiot. But I need you. I need you so fucking much.” He leans over me, pressing me into the mattress as his lips capture mine.

I want to hesitate, morning breath and all that, but the second his tongue teases to get inside, my lips part, allowing him in.

His hand squeezes my hip before running up my body until he’s palming my breast. It’s only then that I realize I’m still wearing yesterday’s dress.

He kisses me so deeply, so passionately that it brings tears to my eyes.

“Oh God, Corey,” I moan when he leaves my lips in favor of my neck.

“I’ve got you, baby.”

He pulls the straps from my shoulder before sitting at my legs and pulling the fabric of my dress down my body.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he mutters, taking in my nude strapless bra and matching panties. “I’ve missed you so fucking much.”

I want to return the sentiment, but I can’t. I’m too lost.

His lips land on my collarbone, and he licks and nips his way down to the swell of my breasts.

“Please,” I moan, arching my back so he can release them.

They’re swollen, tender, extra sensitive and so desperate for his touch.

He follows my demand and slips his hand behind my back so he can unhook the fabric. In seconds it’s free of my body, and I sigh.

“I-I need you.” I arch again, offering myself up to him.

“My little goddess,” he murmurs before reaching behind him, pulling his T-shirt off, and diving for my breasts.

“Oh God, oh God,” I chant as he takes a nipple in his mouth and sucks until I almost combust beneath him.

So fucking sensitive. “Keep going.” My fingers thread in his hair to hold him in place.

I’m so close already. His scent, his touch, his tongue as he flicks it over my tight bud builds me higher and higher.

He switches sides, his eyes meeting mine as he does so.

“More, Corey. I need more.”

He nods, sucking the other side deep into his mouth. I cry out, but it’s nothing compared to when his fingers slip inside my panties and he finds my already swollen clit.

“Oh God, yes. Yes,” I cry as he teases me to perfection.

His mouth continues as his fingers push inside me. I writhe as my release gets within touching distance.

“Corey, Corey. Fuck, I need … I need. Fuuuuuck.” He bites down on one of my nipples, and I lose all control.

“You need what, Lo?”

I nod, my breathing too erratic to even think about forming words as my body floats back down to Earth.

Settling himself between my legs, he pops the button on his pants and pushes them and his boxers down his thighs, too impatient to remove them completely.

He palms his hard cock a few times. The sight has me burning up. There’s something so hot about a guy shamelessly taking the pleasure he needs.

“I need …”

“I’ve got you. I know exactly what you need.”

Taking the lace of my panties in his hand, he tugs until they rip.

“Corey,” I gasp, more turned on than I want to admit by the caveman move.

Hooking one hand behind my knee, he pushes my thigh up to my stomach before teasing the head of his cock around my clit.

My hips grind, needing more, desperate to feel him pushing inside me and stretching me. And in only seconds, he gives me my wish.

“Yes, yes, yes,” I cry as he fills me to the hilt in one swift move.

Folding over my body, he drops his face into the crook of my neck.

“Fuck,” he groans. “Fuck, I’ve missed this. Missed you. Fuck. I’m so sorry. Fuck.”

My hands trail down his back until I grip onto his ass, encouraging him to move more than the slow thrusts he’s doing right now.

After kissing down my neck, he pulls back and stares at me.

“Harlow,” he breathes. “Fuck.”

In that moment, I feel everything he’s not saying out loud but is as clear as day in his eyes.

“I know, Corey. I know.”

“Jesus, fuck.”

His hand once again finds the back of my knee while the other grips my hip before he really starts to move.

His pace increases with each thrust, and all too soon I’m racing toward another mind-blowing release. Corey has always dragged the best out of me, but with our time apart, they’re even more powerful.

He lowers his thumb to my clit, and I detonate.

“Corey,” I cry, breaking the silence, I’m sure letting Brooke know exactly what’s going down in here.

Seconds after my orgasm crashes into me, he stills and roars his own release.

The moment my orgasm starts to subside, my stomach turns over.

Oh no. No, no, no.

Scrambling to get up, I fly toward the bathroom and get to the toilet just in time.

I’m not aware of what he’s doing as I heave into the bowl until his fingers brush my back as he gathers my hair for me.

Once I’m happy I’ve finished, I wipe my mouth with some tissue and sit back.

“Are you okay?” he asks, concern knitting his brows.

“Um …”

His eyes burn into me as I stand and make use of the mouthwash sitting next to the basin.

“There’s something else I need to tell you.”

His eyes are wide, fear evident within them, but there’s no hiding now. “I’m pregnant, Corey.”

“No. No, no, no.” His hands lift to his hair, and he tugs so hard I think it’s going to come out.

“No. No,” he repeats, looking around the room with a horrified expression on his face that I’m sure I’ll remember until my dying day.

Not once does he meet my eyes. “Fuck,” he barks before storming from the room and, soon after, the house.

I sag back against the counter, my head spinning. Did that really just happen?

How did we go from orgasmic bliss to him running like his ass was on fire in a matter of seconds?

Footsteps race toward me, and when I look up, I find Brooke holding a towel out for me. I’d totally forgotten that I was standing here naked.

“What the hell happened?”

“I told him.”

“Fuck.”

She gathers me up in her arms, but I don’t cry. I’m pretty sure I’ve run out of tears.