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“Him?”
I nodded, turning two shades redder in the process. I had to admit, I’d perved over the same photos myself.
“You’re watching his baby?” She scrolled back and forth through the photos in abject shock. “If I were you, I’d be carrying his baby!” Sophia swore. “I’d let him put as many of his babies inside me as he wanted!”
She handed my phone back, albeit reluctantly, then shook her head again.
“Holy fuck, Harper,” she swore. “You didn’t tell me he looked like that.”
“Why?” I challenged. “Does it change things?”
Sophia huffed. “Nice guy, great job, beautiful son…” she nodded toward the playground. “Plus the two of you are already friends. You have history together. And what did you tell me earlier? You came so hard you woke up in a different time zone?”
I smiled, thinking back to our night together. I’d been so hot, so wet, so incredibly fucking horny for him. Adrian and I hadn’t just fucked, we’d made love. We hadn’t just gotten our rocks off, we’d taken things slow; savoring the heat, relishing in the warmth and feel of our naked bodies finally, at long last, crushed tightly against one other.
I’d been worried it might be weird, the two of us being so platonic, for so long. But the second he entered me, I knew it was going to be beyond belief. We kissed like long-lost lovers, rather than friends. All the waiting, all the anticipation — these things had created unimaginable levels of raw physical attraction, to go along with the mental and emotional bonds that were already so strong.
And it wasn’t just making love. We’d done that for sure, finishing gloriously together in a way that connected us on newly-discovered levels I hadn’t even anticipated. We’d fucked slowly, kissed softly, ultimately curling our bodies against one another as I’d fallen asleep, safe and secure, in my best friend’s strong, beautiful arms.
But then I’d stirred, sometime in the wee hours of the morning… and I had another agenda entirely.
I woke Adrian with my mouth, sucking and stroking him hard, tasting the musky aftermath of our lovemaking on his thick, sleep-warm shaft. It turned me on even more, knowing what we’d done. But I wanted something else, too. Something beyond the amazingly slow, sensuous lovemaking we’d experienced an hour or two earlier.
I really wanted to get fucked fucked.
My intentions were made clear as he woke, sleepily, sifting his fingers through my sex-tousled hair. I turned around, shoving myself face-first into his bed. I was face-down, ass-up, ready for business. I waved my naked rump back and forth at him provocatively, until he seized my hips and drove himself into me from behind.
FUCK.
I absolutely loved that he’d loved me, adored me, and that he’d taken things slow. But now… now I needed to get the demons out. I’d twisted my body to intentionally grip the headboard, just as I’d done with Jax, and Adrian took the hint. Soon I was screwing myself backwards and into him, bucking wildly, urging him to pound me with every last ounce of strength and energy, the way his friend had done. It was almost like a kind of twisted penance, for me. Like I could somehow erase the memory of what happened with his best friend, by screwing him even harder and better than I’d done with Jax.
For the next fifteen or so minutes we went totally nuts on each other, rutting and fucking like animals. For every slow, loving stroke he’d driven inside me during our earlier lovemaking, I took three or four of his fast, frenzied thrusts. Adrian grabbed my hips and dug in so hard his fingers curled painfully into my flesh. There would be bruises there the next day; nine of them actually. I counted and treasured each one, wearing them as a badge of a honor, a rite of passage. Proof that we could not only connect in such a slow, loving way, but that we could, when required, fuck each other absolutely, positively senseless.
I’d woken again a short time later, after the two of us had collapsed into a come-soaked heap. Extracting myself without waking him had been tricky. Even trickier though, was processing my feelings. The conflicted thoughts I seemed to be having… and perhaps, not only for Adrian.
Yes, I’d gotten exactly what I wanted. And yes, I’d screwed the memory of Jax into far-flung oblivion.
But had I really?
“Look,” said Sophia, breaking me of my daydream. “If I were you, I’d try to enjoy this. Don’t push it. Don’t rush it. Don’t expect anything.”
My friend flipped her long, curly dark hair over the opposite shoulder and pointed her coffee at me.
“If this man has true feelings for you, he won’t be able to fight them. So let him come around. Let him be the one who approaches you, and don’t make any sudden moves.”
I pictured a hungry wolf approaching an outstretched hand, but warily. It made sense.
“And if he doesn’t come around?” I asked. “If he was carrying the torch all these years, just to hook up with me?”
“Then have as much fun as you want with this,” Sophia grinned, tapping my phone, “for as long as you can.”
~ 23 ~
HARPER
I spent two days working, day and night. Forty-eight straight hours of splicing, soldering, and working with wires so small, so delicate, my eyes actually hurt.
Of course, I worked on the coding part of things too, intermittently. Over the years I’d learned that taking short breaks and then switching things up was the key to productivity, especially if you wanted to keep your mind sharp and your problem-solving skills honed like a samurai’s blade.
