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I slid my hand between us and found my clit, my fingers working in fast circles while he fucked me. The combination of his cock hitting deep, my fingers on my clit, and his hand on my throat created a crescendo of sensation that was almost too much. My legs started shaking around his waist and my breathing went shallow—not from his hand, but from the sheer overwhelming pleasure building inside me like a wave about to crest.

“I’m close,” I gasped. “Harry, I’m so close⁠—”

He leaned over me, his forehead pressing to mine, his hand still on my throat. “Give it to me. Give me everything.”

I broke apart under him, and the orgasm ripped through me like I was hurtling off the roller coaster. I clenched around him in pulses that I felt all the way to my toes, and his name tore out of my mouth, broken and breathless and loud.

He let go of my throat and gripped both my hips, pulling me into his thrusts as his rhythm faltered and then shattered. He buried himself deep, and his head dropped as he came inside me with a shudder that moved through his whole body.

He collapsed on top of me, burying his face in my neck, dropping kisses that had little aftershocks of pleasure flickering through me. A few minutes passed before I caught my breath and a smile lifted my lips.

“We just had sex on the kitchen table,” I said when I could speak.

His laugh was a low rumble against my chest. “We did.”

“We have to disinfect this entire surface before anyone gets home.”

“Already planned on it.”

“And we can never speak of this.”

He lifted his head, and the look on his face—sated, content, the ghost of a smile playing at the corner of his mouth—was one that I’d only ever seen directed at me. Harry didn’t smile like this for anyone else.

It was mine.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he murmured.

I pulled his face down to mine and kissed him leisurely because I could. “Happy Valentine’s Day.” I traced a line down his jaw with my finger. “Carry me upstairs and I’ll give you your present.”

“That wasn’t my present?”

“Harry. That was the appetizer.”

A spark of heat glimmered in his eyes and told me he was already recovering. He pulled out carefully, making me gasp at the loss, and then scooped me off the table like I weighed nothing. I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist, and he carried me toward the stairs.

I glanced back at the kitchen table over his shoulder. “We’re bleaching that.”

“Twice.”

I buried my laugh in his neck and held on tight as he took the stairs two at a time.

THIRTY-FOUR

I met Viv at a local coffee shop to check in on her since I hadn’t heard any updates since her announcement on Christmas. Vivienne had been in back-to-back meetings since they started breaking ground on the new stadium, so this was the first time she’d been able to sit down with me in weeks. The place was small and mostly empty—just a couple of people sitting on the other side of the room. I’d picked it because it was quiet and not usually busy this time of day.

Gordons didn’t air their business in crowded rooms.

She sat down at the table, her black hair straight and shiny, not a strand out of place. Even in jeans, she carried an air about her like she was about to chair a board meeting. But the shadows under her eyes were new. She was sleeping less than she was letting on. While other siblings might have hugged to say hello, Viv and I had never been that touchy-feely—or maybe it was more that Gordons in general weren’t affectionate. I had her coffee already waiting for her, which was about as close to a hug as we got, and she gave me a thankful smile.

“So, any update from our parents?”

She took a sip of her coffee. “You mean they haven’t been calling you incessantly, asking you to knock some sense into me?”

She was only half teasing. Even though I was the younger of the two of us, I was the son and therefore had always been treated as if I was the older and wiser of the two.

“No, I haven’t heard a word from them,” I said.

Which in itself was unusual. The last year, my dad had been sending me regular emails, cc’ing me on business endeavors and whatnot. He’d made it clear he wanted me to move back East and start taking a more active role in Gordon Holdings. But the closer I got to graduation and that somewhat inevitable fate, the less I wanted it.