by Mazzy King
Bill stares at him, shaking his head as if he just can’t believe he’s responsible for this turn of events. Then he glares at me, turns, and stalks out of the apartment.
“Stay here,” Darby says to me in that same flat voice. “I’m going to make sure he actually leaves.”
He follows Bill out, and the door closes behind him.
As soon as I’m alone, I blow out a breath, shaking my hands out at my sides like a swimmer. What the fuck just happened? I haven’t been this pissed off in a very long time. How dare my mother?
But underneath my anger is gratitude. I’m so grateful Darby showed up to save me—again. Where I was on the brink of rage, he was totally unflappable. The way he took control of the situation so immediately…
Another ripple runs over my skin.
I pace the living room a dozen times before there’s a knock at my door, and I rush to answer it. Darby peers down at me.
“All right?” he asks in a low voice.
“Is he gone?”
A slightly rueful smirk crosses his full lips. “Oh, he’s gone.”
I swallow. “Then I’m all right. Darby…thank you. Apparently, I have a knack for drama.”
He leans against the doorway. “That wasn’t your fault, Harlowe. No one has the right to just show up unannounced. Especially if you’ve made it clear you want nothing to do with them. Like blocking their number.”
I nod. “Did he give you any trouble?”
The smirk turns cocky—and totally sexy—now. “That isn’t possible.”
A little giggle escapes my throat. “I’m glad. For him.”
He smiles. We lock gazes for a long beat. My heart flutters like a hummingbird’s wings, rapid and hard.
“Well, I better let you get some rest,” he says lightly, ticking his head in the direction of his apartment. “I was just about to hop in the shower.”
Picturing a naked and soapy Darby makes warmth pool between my thighs. “Of course. You should do that. I—thank you, Darby.” I feel like a broken record, but I just don’t know how to make him understand how grateful I am.
He nods. “Get some rest, Harlowe. Thanks for the food. And this…it was my pleasure. I couldn’t have handled it if he put his hands on you.”
With a little wave, he retreats back to his apartment. I keep my door cracked until I hear his open and close.
Then I shut mine and lean my forehead against it.
Sleeping tonight will be impossible.
6
Darby
Before hopping into the shower, I guzzle a beer. I’m not normally a big drinker, but I need to relax a little after tonight’s events.
After the rage I felt when I heard Harlowe cry out, You’re hurting me!
The audacity of him showing up here when he clearly wasn’t invited is surprising. It just shows me the lack of disrespect he clearly has for her. No wonder she said they ended on bad terms. And according to that delusional motherfucker, he didn’t think they ended at all. He yelled as much to me as he got into his black Mercedes Benz while I stood on the sidewalk in front of the apartment, one hand on my Taser until he finally drove off.
With a sigh, I head to my bedroom to change out of my uniform and then to the bathroom to wash up.
After my shower, I’m standing at the sink wearing just sweatpants, brushing my teeth, when a noise grabs my attention and makes me turn off the water. I lift my head, listening. There it is again.
A soft knock on the door.
I quickly rinse my mouth and jog to the door to peer through the peephole. No one’s there. I pull open the door and lean out just in time to see Harlowe, dressed in a pair of temptingly short gray shorts and a loose navy-blue tee, retreating back to her apartment.
“Hey,” I call in a loud whisper. It is almost midnight.
She whirls around, her long, dark-blonde hair flying. “Hey.” Her cheeks flush as she approaches me, her gaze roving me, and I’m suddenly aware of not having a shirt on. “I thought you were sleeping.”
What’s she doing here? Curious, I gesture inside. “Did you want to come in?”
I stand to the side and let her pass me. I catch a whiff of whatever fragrance she’s wearing—it brings to mind juicy, dark berries and smooth, sweet vanilla.
And those shorts are so very short.
Harlowe’s got a trim body but generous curves. Her ass and thick, fleshy thighs are set off to luscious perfection, and when she turns around to face me…
There’s no bra under that T-shirt.
Sweatpants aren’t good for concealing hardening dicks, as it turns out.
I hover near the counter, trying to conceal what the sight and smell of her is doing to me. “What is it, Harlowe?”
She bites her lower lip as she steps closer to me and rests a hand on top of mine. “Darby…”
Oh, fuck. The way she says my name…
Harlowe’s eyes trail up my chest and rest on my face. “There’s something I want.”
“What’s that?” I ask in a voice that comes out low and rough.
“I want that kiss now.”
I suck in a breath, hardly believing that this is where the night is going. I’ve dreamed about this moment for years…and now it—she—is finally right in front of me.
I won’t let this opportunity slip by me again. I won’t let years of lonely longing go by.
I step around the counter, letting her see all of me. Her eyes immediately skate down my body and stop where the prominent bulge of my cock strains against my thin sweatpants. I’m fresh out of the shower, so there was no point in bothering with underwear.
The heat that flashes through her eyes lets me know she’s all in.
I reach for her hand and pull her close against me. So close my heavy cock presses against her, and I can feel her warmth transfer to me.
I slide a hand up to gently cup her jaw. “Can I tell you something?”
“Yes,” she breathes, gazing into my eyes.
“I’ve waited to hear you say those words for years, Harlowe. Years.”
She lets out a soft gasp.
“So many years of being in love with you and being too scared to say so. We were so different growing up, weren’t we? I never thought I could ever be your type. I thought you were so far out of my league, it wasn’t funny.”
“Darby…” Her hand rests on mine. Her eyes are wide, a little sad, a little wistful.
“But somehow, we ended up here,” I murmur. “And if this is what was meant to be all along, that all those years of feeling invisible would bring me here, put us here together, I’d relive them all over again.”
Tears begin to well in her eyes. One slips out, and I brush it away with my thumb. I feel her body tremble against mine. She’s so delicate. So strong, and yet so fragile. Her fingers tighten over my hand where it rests against her jaw.
“Because I do love you, Harlowe,” I confess. “I’ve loved you since we were kids. And I can’t go another moment without telling you that.”
Before she can say a word, I lean down, angling my mouth over hers. For one second we share the same breath, and then I capture her lips with mine.
Soft. So soft.
A little moan rumbles from her throat as our lips take of each other, over and over. She grips my shoulders, then slides her arms around me, trying to bring me even closer to her body. Her kisses turn almost frantic, but I coax her into a slower pace with my lips.
We have all the time in the world.
When her mouth opens, I sweep in deep with my tongue. She’s sweet as can be, and my cock only grows harder against her. She groans again as our tongues tease and slow dance and taste.
“Take me to bed,” she pleads in a whisper. “Please, Darby. I need you.”
I slide my hands down over the round slope of her ass to hoist her up by the backs of her thighs. It positions her heat right over my dick, and I can tell she’s already damp.
“Fuck,” I mumble as I carry her to my bed. “Are you
wet, sweetheart?”
“Yes,” she whimpers, grinding herself a little harder against me.
A shudder races down my back. “I like that. Too much.”
I set her down on my bed and lean over her. I dip my head and graze her exposed belly with my lips and tongue, toying with the hem of her shirt.
“Can I see what’s under here?” I ask.
She nods, biting her lip again.
I ease the hem up, sucking in a breath as I slide up her shirt to expose her beautiful, rounded breasts. Her nipples are already tight and I can’t help teasing them with the tip of my tongue. Harlowe gasps, arching her back.
I take my time, kissing and licking and sucking and squeezing, trailing my tongue across the valley between her breasts. Beneath me, her hips roll as though she’s trying to find some kind of friction between her thighs.
I’m about to move down lower when she pushes light on my chest. “Stand up,” she orders in a whisper.
I comply, and she sits up, running her hands down my belly until her fingers hook into the waistband of my sweats. I bite my own lip now, trying to hold back a groan of anticipation at what I know is coming.
She takes my long, thick cock in one hand, massaging at the base, and then her mouth slides over me, wet and tight and warm.
“Fuck,” I grunt, grasping a handful of her hair. “Oh, fuck, that’s good.”
She hums in appreciation as she works her mouth on me, doing her best to take me as deep as she can. One of her hands continues to jack me while the other grips my hip, lightly pushing and pulling me into a gentle thrusting rhythm.
I carefully fuck her mouth like she wants me to, looking out for any signs of discomfort while navigating the mind-blowing pleasure. Suddenly, the pleasure builds to a crescendo that promises no return, and warning bells go off in my head.
“I’m going to come, sweetheart,” I tell her, trying to withdraw.
Instead, she holds me fast and her head bobs even faster. She wants me to come in her mouth.
That realization pulls me over the edge of pleasure and I explode, shooting my cum straight down her throat, groaning through my teeth.
I pull out of her mouth, heart pounding and breathing hitched. Harlowe looks up at me, her eyes glowing, her lips swollen. I can’t resist them.
I kiss her hard and deep and she offers me her tongue. I slide one hand into her tiny shorts and am immediately greeted with thick, slick juice. Her pussy is smooth, swollen, hot, and wet. In a word—delicious.
She helps me pull her T-shirt off, and then I tug off her shorts. She’s bare and even more beautiful than I could have imagined. Her pussy lips are pink and thick, and her aroma is heady.
“I’m going to eat you like I’m on death row,” I promise, pushing her thighs apart and her knees back to her chest.
Her soft wail of pleasure echoes off my bedroom walls as I lower my watering mouth to her. I scoop my tongue all the way through and up her slit, sucking up as much of her juice as I can before I settle on her clit and tease and suck it. Her hand settles on the back of my head as I devour her, her hips rolling upward. Her cries build until, with a few more deep swipes of my tongue, she bursts like a piece of ripe, juicy fruit in my mouth.
It’s enough to get me hard again, and I kiss my way up her body until I reach her mouth. She grips my face with both hands.
“Tell me exactly what you want,” I breathe. “And how you want it.”
“You, deep inside me,” she murmurs, teasing my lips with the tip of her tongue. “With nothing between us.”
I draw my bottom lip between my teeth and nuzzle her neck. “Anything you want.”
Our fingers interlace as I reach down to grip my cock and guide it to her soaking wet entrance. This is another moment I’ve fantasized about for years, and now that I’m here…it’s surreal. It may never happen again, so I’m going to take my time and make sure I never forget this.
Her grip is snug enough to pull a low grunt of pleasure from me. Her silken legs draw up on either side of me as she lets out a sharp little breath.
“Okay?” I murmur.
“Perfect,” she sighs back. “You’re perfect.”
Her hands slide down my back to my hips, encouraging me to move. I let her guide me to a pace she likes. Everything about her feels amazing to me. All I want is to make her happy.
Her creamy wetness coats me from root to tip with each backward cant of my hips. Her tight pussy threatens to swallow me whole with every thrust in.
“Just like that,” she gasps. “Fuck me hard and deep, just like that.”
The sound of our bodies impacting as I give her what she needs is like a sensual metronome. Her pussy clenches tight around me with every plunge, and I know she’s getting close. Her nipples pebble up tight and I draw one into my mouth.
“God, you feel fucking amazing,” I breathe into her skin.
“Don’t stop,” she whimpers. “I’m so close.”
“Hang on tight,” I purr against her lips, then kick my hips into overdrive. Her moans build and her nails bite into my skin as she wraps her legs around my waist. My own pleasure consumes me. There has never been anything on this planet that could ever feel this exquisite.
“Darby,” she cries just as I feel her body quiver violently. Her pussy’s sudden, vise-like grip wrenches the breath from me, and I immediately plummet after her, coating her insides with my seed.
For a long moment, I can’t move. Her fingers stroke lazy circles on my back. I bury my hands in her hair and breathe in her scent.
“Darby,” she murmurs. “Tell me…”
“Tell you what, sweetheart?” I press a kiss to the underside of her jaw.
“Did you mean what you said?”
I draw back to gaze into her eyes. She cups my face in her hands, her eyes gentle as if to tell me it’s safe to be vulnerable.
“What would that mean to you?” I volley a question back at her. Now that passion has cleared, I wonder if being so candid earlier was smart. Even if it was the truth.
“It would mean a lot,” she says softly. “You would—you would be the first man who’s ever told me that.”
My brows shoot up. “No one’s ever said that before? Not even Bill-the-douchebag?”
“Definitely not him. He’s too narcissistic to understand what loving another person means.” She swallows. “I’ve never really known what healthy love feels like. And it makes me feel a little dumb. I guess I have a hard time trusting it. I’ve dated people who just saw me as a steppingstone to get what they wanted—a position at my firm, an interview with my boss, or finding the kind of woman their family expected them to find. It all comes down to money and status and I hate it so much.”
“Well,” I say quietly, tracing a finger over the contours of her face. “You have a job that has nothing to do with mine. I have my own money, though it’s not as much as a corporate accountant’s or executive’s, of course. I don’t know shit about designer cufflinks or Italian leather shoes or what restaurant in town serves the best foie gras. But I do earn an honest living. I can fix a flat tire and change your oil. I can cook. I can listen to your thoughts and your worries and your fears, and I can help you figure out your problems, if you need my help. I’ll support you and protect you and serve you and…” I swallow, brushing a lock of hair off her forehead. “And love you. And it’s as simple as that, Harlowe.”
“You make it sound so…” She smiles. “Well, simple.”
“Love doesn’t have to be complicated,” I tell her. “In fact, it shouldn’t be.”
She gazes up at me. “Why didn’t we spend more time together in high school? We became friends then. Remember?”
“Of course I do.” My mood darkens as I recall my nervous, teenaged self, standing on Harlowe’s front porch.
“Oh, that’s so sweet,” Mrs. Monroe said, “but I’m afraid to tell you, Darby, Harlowe already has a prom date.”
I walked back to my house feeling like a whipped dog. Bu
t that feeling was nothing compared to going to prom with my friends and seeing Harlowe there with hers, nary a date in sight. I even asked Harlowe that night at prom where her date was. Her response? “Guys kinda suck right now, so us girls all decided we’d just go to prom together!”
I was too empty from the lie her mother told me to screw up my nerve to ask her to dance. In fact, I didn’t do anything but go home after that.
“What is it?” Harlowe touches my cheek. “You’re a million miles away.”
“Just remembering the past,” I tell her, forcing a smile. “Regretting some things.”
“Like what?”
“Like not telling you how I felt about you sooner,” I say. “Like not asking you to dance at prom.”
“I wish you would’ve,” she says softly. “And I don’t mean just now. I mean back then too. I wanted you to ask me.”
“Would you have gone to prom with me if I asked you?”
She smiles. “I would’ve caught a lot of shit from the other cheerleaders for not going with the quarterback, but…yes. I would have. I had a little crush on you then.”
“You did?” I force away the sting of knowing that prom night could have turned out so differently. Maybe changed the course of our lives.
“I thought you might’ve asked me,” she says with a shrug. “I was disappointed when you didn’t, but I figured that was because you’d rather have gone with your friends. So that’s why I went with mine.”
“I never felt good enough for you.” I want to tell her the truth about what her mom did, but it seems petty. And I don’t want to do anything to tarnish this moment.
“You always were,” Harlowe whispers. “I just wish I opened my eyes sooner.”
I kiss her throat. “Are they open now, Miss Monroe?”
Her eyes fall shut as she lets out a purr of happiness. “Wide open.”
7
Darby
“You know,” a voice says, piercing the thick veil of my sleep, “for a cop you’re pretty easy to sneak past.”