I look up at him from the veil of my lashes as I slide farther down his body. Jayson gasps when I circle my tongue around the head of his hard shaft. Ignoring his head shaking, I say, “How hot can you burn, syzygos?” I can’t help but grin at his look of surprise when I say the Greek word for husband. “I’ve had some free time, so I started that language program on your computer.”
“Your husband is pleased.”
“Not yet.” I give him a wicked grin. “But soon.”
Jayson’s body stiffens when I take him inside my mouth, straining my jaw open to take in his size. Jayson shudders and trembles underneath me as I swirl my tongue around the corona and up and down the veiny shaft.
Soon he pushes me away from him. “God, Harper, you’re making me crazy. I’m going to explode! I’ve got to be inside you.”
I nod, getting how he feels. The things he does with his mouth are heaven, but sometimes I like to come with him inside me, his cock earning my orgasm. I straddle him, taking Jayson inside me, already slick, and swiveling my hips. He grips me by the hipbones, and I weave my fingers into the light dusting of hair on his chest. We move together, enjoying the ride, the togetherness, the deep coming together, until we both cry out and collapse. Time fades away.
Afterward, we shower together and finally return to the bed in order to sleep. I curl against him, letting my eyes drift closed as sleep creeps over me.
“Harper?”
I murmur a sleepy, “Hmm?”
“Does this mean you’re staying with me?”
The childish urge to squeeze my eyes shut seizes me. I hope he’ll interpret the lack of an answer as my being asleep. How can I answer the question when I haven’t figured that out yet?
Chapter 36
Jayson
I listen to Harper snore softly, pleased she’s resting, but a little envious. I’ve been lying beside her for at least an hour, but sleep refuses to take. Finally, although I’m reluctant to release her, I move away from her and out of the bed. If I can’t sleep, I might as well get some work done.
In a robe, I pad barefoot to the study, turning on the computer. As it boots up, I open the bottom drawer of the desk to replenish the printer paper and freeze. The stack of books I’d bought about pregnancy are in the drawer, where I shoved them the first day we came home.
My heart tugs painfully as I lift them from the drawer, one by one, and stack them on the printer table. It pains me that there won’t be a little Harper running through the house. With our future so unsettled, I can’t be certain we will ever have a child together. That’s nearly as heartbreaking as losing the baby.
It crosses my mind that we didn’t use protection tonight, but I rub my eyes without comfort. It’s unlikely she’s gotten pregnant again, but if she did, I wouldn’t use that as a way to keep her with me. As much as I want Harper to stay my wife, I no longer want it to be against her will.
I want her to love me completely.
Why it’s so important isn’t something I want to contemplate.
Rising from the chair, I take the books and hide them in a cabinet filled with business tomes Harper would be unlikely to investigate. I don’t want her stumbl
ing across the books like I did, experiencing the painful reminder of what might have been.
After stowing the books, I go back to the desk and open my email. I spend the next hour working steadily through the messages, many of them frantic ones from my assistant regarding a business deal that’s apparently on the verge of collapsing.
Leaning back in my chair, I consider the options. The sensible thing to do is to fly to London and secure the deal myself. The thought of leaving Harper, especially as vulnerable as she still is, has me rejecting the notion out of hand. In an unaccustomed move, I type a terse message instructing my assistant to go to London and close the deal. If he’s not able to, it won’t be the end of the world. The Satyros Corporation is stable and secure for Sophie if and when she’s ready to take it over.
Thinking of my niece brings me back to thoughts of Harper. The passionate time in bed lightened my heart, but I can’t be completely optimistic that she’s decided to stay with me. The sex between us may be amazing, but it might not be a good enough foundation on which to build a true marriage.
I continue sorting email as I consider ways to convince her to stay. Nothing comes to mind. But I freeze and lean forward when I see an email from Maia Papadas. My stomach drops as I reluctantly click on it.
I snort with disgust at the obscene picture she’s sent. The attached message is almost as unsettling. Enjoy the view. I will soon be in New York, and you can look AND touch. I look forward to when we are together again, now that you have no reason to stay married.
My eyes narrow as I reread the message. It’s clear she knows about the baby, and that Harper’s lost it. How could she know such intimate details? The only plausible explanation is someone’s been giving her information. But who?
I hit “Reply” and stare at the blinking cursor, finding I can’t muster a response. The things I want to write shouldn’t be said to anyone, even her. With a sigh, I close the message but don’t delete the email. I know I will have to deal with it soon, but can’t tonight. The need for sleep finally catches up to me, and all I want to do is crawl into bed, hold my wife, and slumber.
The next morning over breakfast, Harper seems to enjoy a friendly conversation with me. But I don’t feel comfortable to repeat the question that she can’t, or won’t, answer. Despite how much it burns me up to not know the answer. I set the tone, keeping the conversation light and centered on neutral topics.
As we near the end of the meal, my phone rings for the fourth time. I start to silence it like I did before, but Harper shakes her head. “You don’t have to avoid answering for my sake. Whoever it is obviously needs to talk to you.”