Naturally, I have sex with a machine of a man and think there will be no repercussions afterward. Not complaining. My hoo-ha may be exhausted, but I feel more relaxed than I have in a long time.
I’ve been busy, and there’s been a lot of pressure coming from my current clients. The release was needed, and Harrison did a stellar job—three times to be precise. I pop two pain relievers and take a sip of water from the bottle I left on the nightstand before climbing back into bed.
His presence gives me comfort—his body warm and protective. I lie down and focus on him instead of the ache between my legs. My lids grow heavy, and it doesn’t take long until I’m falling asleep again.
Unfortunately, this time, like earlier, I don’t wake up to the smell of bacon or a hot-ass chef cooking me breakfast. I do have the pleasure of watching him shower, though, and that is pornographic.
I open the door to give him a kiss, and he tries to pull me in. “Join me. I’ll make it worth your while.”
“Mmm. You are so much trouble for me.”
His lopsided grin stirs inner desires. No, I must stay focused. “I wish I could, but I don’t want to get my hair wet because it will take too long to dry. I’ll just take a quick shower after you.”
He soaps his body, spending a little extra time on those incredible abs of his. I’m not sure how many crunches he does to define those, but it’s a session I need to sit in on soon. “You sure?”
“Barely,” I sigh longingly. “But today is the first day of the rest of my life. I have a plan in place that I am ready to put into action, so I need to get to the office.”
“Sounds exciting. Hope to hear more about it when you have time.”
“Really?”
“If it’s something you’re passionate about, why wouldn’t I?”
It might have been in that moment that I see him differently. I see the handsome face and great body, know he could charm a gambler out of all of his money without wagering a bet, and has a sweet side that not many are privy too. But right then, I can feel in my bones that he’s going to be a part, even a major part, of my life for years to come . . . Maybe forever.
An overwhelming emotion surges through me, and I’m quick to say, “Thank you.” I shut the shower door and try to gain control of whatever this is I feel inside. It’s good, light, filled with joy, but a lot . . . too much to figure out when standing in a steamy bathroom with him naked.
So distracting to my goals.
He makes me want to climb into that shower with him and enjoy the pleasure of our bodies connecting for hours. I must resist.
The best way is to start getting ready for the day with my normal routine. Just a little out of order until I can take a shower. I brush my teeth and wash my face. Smother my face in moisturizer and then pin my hair up on top of my head.
When he moves into the bedroom, I hop in the shower. This time, he opens the door. “I need to go. I have a showing this morning and need to get dressed.” He leans in and kisses me. “Can I see you tonight?”
“I want that.”
“I’ll text you later, and we can make plans.”
“Sounds good. Have a great day.” He risks it all and leans in to kiss me again—deeper with intention—getting his face wet just to be there for me. He pulls back, licking his lips as if he’ll taste more of me that way.
That man is smashing down my barriers, and I don’t think I have a say in the matter. My heart is softening to this, whatever this is, and for the first time in my life, I kind of like it.
When he’s gone, and I step out of the shower, I dry off and then pull my clothes out and lay them on the bed. With Harrison still on my mind, I open a drawer and grab my birth control packet from the bin where I keep it. He’s distracting to more than my goals. I enjoy thinking about him and how nice it’s been the past few days.
I return to the bed to get dressed and then retrieve a glass of water to take my pill. Feeling good and ready to tackle the day, I pop a pill from the package. Being too rough, it goes flying across the counter until it bounces to a stop.
It’s while reaching for it that the silver foil packet catches my eyes. I’ve not thought about this in a few days. Sure, it’s a routine I’ve had for years, but something in my gut has me counting the remaining pills.