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I put the scalloped potatoes and chicken with lemon, onions, and herbs in the oven while Harvey wheels into the kitchen, his straight blond hair slightly disheveled.
“My family’s coming over for dinner...” I remind him, drying my hand on a dish towel.
He steals a few pieces of cheese and crackers off a marble board. “I know.”
I then prepare a salad and place vegetables with hummus on a platter; Gia’s bringing dessert.
I eventually head into the shower to clean up and put on a bit of makeup before stepping to my room in nothing but a towel.
There’s a knock at my door at the same time as I release the towel.
I breathe in anxiously, hoping for courage before I turn around to face Harvey. I spot his hand curling tightly while his eyes zoom all over my body like a man who’s practiced abstinence his entire life.
“Your dad called. They’re on their way . . .”
I nod and thoroughly bite on my bottom lip. We have time—even for a kiss.
I still have water dripping down my body, in the crease of my breasts. My feet are frozen in place. I want to move onward,but I’m afraid of scaring him off like last time, so I sit on the edge of the bed.
I tease my neck with my fingers, stroking up and down before moving my fingertips across my collarbone.
His weakness.
At that exact moment, he’s calling out my name. I take a deep breath in, losing myself in his blue eyes as I gain a confidence I forgot I had, while my fingers skim down my stomach.
He wheels forward, the movement so small, I could’ve missed it. My legs drift apart, ever so slightly. He stares at my pussy intently before darting his eyes back to mine.
“I need you, Harv.” I whisper.
I’ve never felt this greedy. Ever.
Eyes close before greeting me again. I hesitate a bit, then decide to go all the way, letting my fingers trail all the way down. As soon as they’re on my sex, and the fact that he’s here—he’shere, and that we have to be quick, is enough to drown me in my wetness.
“Gemma . . .”
I moan, lost in ecstasy.
“Stop . . .”
I shake my head. “No.”
If you won’t touch me then I want you to picture it.
“Gemma, stop! Why do you do this to yourself?”
“Can’t you see, Harvey? You’re doing this to me.” I don’t stop pleasuring myself.
“I’m not doing anything.”
“That’s my point...” I sigh sensually, feeling myself close to the tipping point.
He’s wheeling back, and I sense his refusal crashing against my arousal—the mixture a strong explosion of love and hate. Of opposites. I’m so close to coming, I can’t stop.
Maybe I want to punish him.
He won’t take me. So I’ll take myself.
“I can’t fuckin’ do this...” He’s almost red in the face as he leaves the room, and I let my own cries of passion echo with the slam of his bedroom door, as pain combines with my orgasm, taking my pleasure to new heights.
