She’d even dated a little bit.
“Uncle Warren and George are coming by in the morning,” Ross said. He was holding Jasmine now, clearly in love.
“Warren has been blowing up my phone,” Harrison replied, and when Trina yawned, he told me, “We should go, baby. Let them get some sleep.”
I nodded and stood. We told everyone goodbye, then made our way home…to our house. I didn’t have a problem calling it that anymore.
It was late, and we stripped out of our clothes before falling into bed.
“I can’t believe I’m a grandpa,” Harrison said.
“Don’t worry. You don’t look a day over sixty,” I teased.
“Brat.” He swatted my ass.
We were quiet for a moment before I admitted, “I love our life.” I never thought I’d be able to say that. Not really. I’d hoped. I’d worked hard. I’d told myself I would make my dreams come true, but I hadn’t truly believed it. But I had, and with Harrison, I’d been blessed with more than I’d even considered hoping for.
I was still obsessed with teaching. I went to work every day despite the bullshit parts of it—the money, the laws, the way my hands were tied when I just wanted to help students, but I still fought for them. Ariel was in high school now, but his little sister was in my class, and he would come by to say hi to me sometimes. He loved reading, and he was still one of my favorites.
“I love it too,” Harrison replied. “I love you.”
“Eh, you’re all right,” I joked, rolling on top of him, then kissing my way down his chest and stomach until I got to his cock. “I do adore your dick, though.”
“Why don’t you suck him and prove it?” he replied.
“Bossy, bossy man.” I licked his shaft. We still had a crazy-active sex life. I loved being physical with Harrison, loved what he did to my body and pleasuring him the same ways. “When are you going to take pictures of me naked again?” I asked before kissing one of his balls, then the other.
“Fuck…anytime. You know that.”
He’d entered a photography contest with a photo he’d taken of me once—not a naked one, those were for us. After I’d said goodbye to my father for the last time, Harrison had taken me away for the weekend, and we’d gone to the beach. We were sitting in the sand, watching the waves, and he’d captured that moment.
“Later,” I told him. “Right now I just want to suck a load out of your balls and then go to bed.”
“Be my guest,” Harrison replied, and I did it, swallowing him down before letting him hold me again.
We still had our differences sometimes, like Harrison not understanding why I still drove that same old Hyundai when he had access to the cars he did, or why it had taken me a year after we became official to quit my job at the coffeehouse. But those little things happened less often now. We were just…happy.
“You know what my favorite thing is?” Harrison asked after a minute.
“Me?”
“Besides you.”
“I don’t know. I give up.”
“Strings,” Harrison answered.
“Attached,” I finished for him, and that was how we would live the rest of our lives—strings attached, blissfully and ridiculously in love.
The End