My Unexpected Forever
Page 28
I tug again at his shirt. He takes it off with one hand, only breaking contact with me for a brief moment. I squeeze my legs tighter around his hips so I can work to free him from the confines of his jeans. My eager mouth attaches to nipple ring. I pull, knowing that he loves the way it feels. It urges him on. He moves against me, building the friction between our clothed bodies.
His fingers dig into my legs as he holds me against the wall. His mouth sears into my skin, leaving a path of burning kisses on my neck. He bites my earlobe, pulling and sucking it into his mouth.
I free him from his captor, sliding my hand up and down his shaft. He pulls back and looks at me. His green eyes bore into mine, daring me to stop this before it goes too far. What he doesn’t know is that I want this. I want him. Now, tomorrow and forever.
He moves my panties aside and guides me to his ready cock. I arch against the wall, as he grips the door casing for leverage. He pulls back and thrusts. I scream out, not in pain, but in pure unadulterated pleasure.
He watches me. He takes stock in knowing that I’m coming undone by his touch. He pushes harder. My body slams against the wall. The way he keeps control, the way he keeps his rhythm, it’s like I’m the beat of his drum and he’s playing me with every ounce of energy he has.
He bunches my dress in his hand and watches as he pulls out. “Fuck,” he hisses as he buries himself into me again and again. I pull him to my mouth, my hands woven in his hair as I reach my peak. I give him everything.
My heart.
My body.
My soul.
My life.
Harrison comes hard, grunting and pushing himself deeper. The clarity of this moment makes me realize that I am his, and he is mine.
He kisses me softly, his mouth lingering over mine. My breath catches when he moves away from me. He holds me in his hands until my feet are planted on the ground. I look down at myself and shake my head. I move to right myself, but he bats my hands way. He adjusts my dress, placing small kisses along my cleavage. He bends and in one fell swoop has me in his arms.
My arm wraps around his neck. My fingers play with the back of his hair. He walks faster, once we reach the top of the stairs, his feet shuffling. I look at him, confused.
“I forgot to button my jeans,” he explains as he tries not to laugh.
My heart sinks when I look around his room. Boxes line the walls, ready to be moved back to Los Angeles. He sits me on his bed. I can’t look at him for fear he’ll see the heartbreak. Am I enough to keep him here?
Harrison uses his finger and thumb to lift my chin. His thumb caresses my lower lip. My tongue reaches out to taste him.
“Ask me,” he demands.
“Stay,” I say quietly. “Stay here and be with me. Stay and be a family.” I stand so were body to body. I take his hand in mine and press it to my heart. “Stay and love me, love us.”
He captures my lips with his with such urgency I have to grab onto his shoulders for fear I’m going to fall. He picks me up and lays me on the bed gracefully. He hovers over me, his eyes boring into mine.
“I love you.”
“I love you, Harrison.”
MY skin pebbles as his fingers map out their destination. I think he’s touched every inch of my body, some places more than once. But who’s keeping track? I’m not. I lay in his bed, surrounded by him. His naked body is pressed to my side as he writes his name on my stomach.
“When did you know?” he asks.
“Know what?”
“That you loved me?”
“The night I came to pick up the girls, they were coloring on you and it’s what Peyton said and the way you were with them. I knew my heart was yours even if I was having a hard time letting it go.”
He pulls me closer to him, burying his face in my hair.
“The movers will be here soon,” he says in a whisper.
I roll over and face him, my hand cupping his cheek. “Move in with me.”
His grin grows as my words sink in. “Your house is too small and so is this one. I’ll buy us a new one.”
I shake my head. “My father-in-law he…” I take a deep breath. I know Harrison will never ask me to stop loving Mason. I respect him for that. But will he be able to live in a house where my husband grew up? That I don’t know. “He wants to travel and can’t take care of his house. It’s big enough for the five of us. The girls were born there and Mason grew up there. I know it might be difficult for you—“
“Do you want us there?”
“I do, so much and so does my father-in-law.”
“He does?”
“Yes, he thought… He knows about us and he thought we could live there as a family.”
Harrison pulls me to him and kisses me hard. “You’ll be okay with us living there, even though there’s a history?”
“I love that house, I always have. Wait until you see it. The basement is finished so you could put your drums down there or have a space to get away. The wrap around porch is perfect for sitting out on a hot summer night and watching the sun go down. There are four bedrooms so each of the kids can have their own space. I think you and Quinn will fit in just perfectly.”
“Can we talk about a few things first?”
“Sure,” I try to sound confident, but I’m not going to lie, my insides are shaking.
Harrison rests his head on his hand and looks at me. “Moving in is a big step toward a serious commitment and that’s something I’m ready and willing to do, but I want us on the same page. I spent so much time trying to woo you that I bypassed a lot of the getting to know you crap that a normal dating couple figures out early on; like do they want kids and what are their views on marriage.”
“Do you want more kids?”
Harrison shrugs. “I don’t know. I can see myself happy with our three and if another one came along, I’d be happy with that as well.”
A part of me feels relief, because having twins is a lot of work and I can’t imagine adding another one, but another part of me longs to give him a child. I just don’t know which part is stronger right now. “I can live with that.”
“Good.” He leans forward and brushes his lips against mine. “Now, marriage.”
I feel my heart drop.
“I’m in love with you, Katelyn, and if you said you wanted to get married, I’d do it, but I’d like for you to think of something first and that’s the girls. I’ve told you that I respect your love for Mason and I’ll never ask you to stop loving him, and that includes changing your name. I don’t need some piece of paper to tell me that you’re mine, what I need is for you to love me, that’s all I ask. What I need is for Peyton and Elle to know their father and to know that I’m there for them when he can’t be. It’s important to me for them to decide how they want me around. If they come to me, years from now and say they want me to adopt them, I’ll do it, but it has to be their decision.
“This doesn’t mean I won’t marry you, I will, you just tell me when you’re ready, but I think we both know that you might not ever get there. I have no doubt in my mind that you’re a one wedding bride, and I’m more than okay with that. I respect that and love you more for it. I know we can have a long and happy life, standing side-by-side, watching our children grow up.
“I know Liam has been taking care of your bills. I know he paid off your house, but I want to take care of you now. I don’t want you to work, unless you want to. I know you like being home when the kids get out of school and I want that for you. Let me provide for you, Peyton and Elle.”
Tears pool in my eyes. How he knows me the way he does is beyond me. I move closer and nuzzle into the crook of his neck. His arms encase me, holding me to his body.
“I think if I was someone different, I’d be kicking you out of bed for saying we’re never getting married.”
Harrison laughs. “Baby, if you were someone else, I wouldn’t be here right now.”
“No?”
“No,” he says leaning back to look
at me. “I only have eyes for Katelyn Powell.”
"ARE you sure you want to do this?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“You know I think it’s going to be sexy as hell, right?” I pick up our joined hands and kiss hers.
“No, I didn’t know that.” I can’t tell if she’s being coy or not.
I shake my head. “Fuck, baby, I’m hard just thinking about it.”
I pull into the parking lot of Rock City. I feel her stiffen next to me. I know she’s scared, but she knows that she can back out at any time. This is something she wants, something that she suggested.
I get out of the car and run around to her door and open it for her. I take her hand in mine and walk with her by my side.
When she came to me and said she wanted a tattoo, I thought she was joking, but she wasn’t. In fact, she had the design all picked out. I asked her how long she had been thinking about getting one, and she said a while.
The chime on the door rings out when we enter. I made her an appointment as soon as she asked. She fills out her paperwork and hands her drawing to the artist, who starts transforming it into something he can work with.
“Right this way,” he says. She grabs my hand. I squeeze hers, letting her know that I’m with her all the way.
“Where do you want it,” he asks. She looks at me and smiles. The location has been a secret until now. She lets go of my hand and lifts her shirt.
“Whoa, what are you doing?” I ask, as I try to pull her shirt back down.
“Stop,” she says, pushing my hands away. She turns and points to her hip, showing the artist where she wants her flower and how it should fit on her body.
“You’ll have to pull your shorts down a bit,” he says, watching my reaction. “Lie on your side.” He nods toward the table and waits for her. With her shirt lifted and her shorts hanging lower than I’d like them to be in public, he sets her design on her and pulls away the paper.
Her flower will sit just above her hipbone with vines above and below. Small stars will be added as accents.
“What color do you want the flower?”
“Purple,” she answers.
I pull a chair closer to her and hold her hand. She looks at me, her eyes showing concern. “You’ll be fine. You’ve given birth to twins, this will seem easy.”
She rolls her eyes and scoots her head closer to me. She rests there, waiting. I lean down and kiss her on the nose. She stiffens when the gun turns on. I know she’s nervous. I was too when I got my first one, but I know she’ll do just fine and will likely want another one soon.
As soon as the needle touches her skin, she squeezes my hand. I watch her for any sign of distress, but see none. She keeps her eyes closed, likely concentrating on her happy place. Where that is, I don’t know, she won’t tell me. Either way, if it keeps her calm and levelheaded, she can go there whenever she wants.
I was informed of said happy place when we moved into the house. Combining two households was a nightmare. We had a mix match of stuff and it didn’t blend. A week after we moved in, I threw my hands up and took her shopping. I told her that for seven days the kids and I had listened about how nothing matches and now she can have whatever she wants. She balked at first, saying she can go to her happy place and make it work. I didn’t know what that meant, but each day she was spending more and more time there and I’d had enough. She finally relented and bought a houseful of furniture. Now everything is new and ours – which I think was the problem from the get-go.
I kissed Katelyn for the first time in front of the kids on the day that we told them we were moving in together. I figured it was a good time. It was much easier than I thought it would be – kissing her. She gathered them in her living room and told them we had some news. Elle asked if she was going to be a princess again, referring to her stint as Josie’s flower girl. Peyton didn’t say anything. But Quinn, he looked at me and smiled. He knew. I cupped Katelyn’s face and planted one square on her lips.
I wasn’t sure what Quinn would think, but he, along with the girls, said it was going to be cool since they spent most of their time together anyway. Peyton asked if she and I would still practice together, and I told her nothing would change, except I’d be around more. The kids seemed to like that idea.
I look over at the design taking shape on her side. The impure thoughts are rampant. I can’t wait to lick, kiss and nip every square inch of her body. When she asked me what I thought about her getting a tattoo, I showed her. Words didn’t even come close to describing what I thought. We played a little game that night – it was ‘let Harrison find the location of the tattoo’ – each time I thought I was close, she’d tell me I wasn’t and I had to start all over again. I loved that game.
“How does it look?”
“Sexy.”
She pushes me in the shoulder. “It doesn’t look sexy. I looked up the procedure online. I’m sure it’s red and gross looking.”
I lean in and whisper, “Baby, nothing on you is gross looking.”
She snuggles into my neck and places small kisses there. I refuse to move, relishing in the attention. There are two sides of Katelyn. I learned this as well after we started living together.
There’s the mom side. That Katelyn is on her game. She’s making breakfast for five, packing three lunches, checking homework, doing all our laundry and making dinner. She dresses in tight ass yoga pants and has her hair piled on top of her head. Believe it or not, this is my dirty girl Katelyn. This is my, come-home-at-lunch–for-a-quickie, Katelyn.
Then there’s the shy, reserved Katelyn. That’s what I have now. She wants to be held and caressed and will show affection, as long as it’s hidden from everyone else. She’s not afraid to let it be known that I’m hers though, but it takes some good goading for her to be flashy about our relationship. This is the Katelyn that I get at night when we’re all sitting around watching TV. She’ll curl up in a chair or I’ll come home to find all three kids piled around her.
The first time I saw her and Quinn sitting together, I thought I was going to lose my shit. I almost broke down and cried like a baby. She treats him as her own and that is more than I could ask for.
“You’re done,” the artist says.
Katelyn bends to look. She gasps and covers her mouth. “It’s beautiful.”
“I told you,” I say, kissing her temple.
He covers it and gives her the instructions that I have memorized. When she hops down from the table, I pull her to me. I kiss her once and move aside, taking my shirt off as I do.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
“It’s my turn.” I jump up on the table just as the artist returns with my sketch.
“Where?” he asks.
I point to my chest and he nods.
“What are you getting?”
“You’ll see.”
I lay back, putting my arms behind my head. I’m grinning from ear to ear when he sets the paper down and peels it back.
“Harrison?” Her voice is soft and wavering.
I pull my hand out from behind my head and reach for her. She comes to me, allowing me to hold her. I watch her the entire time, never flinching or needing to look that he’s doing it right, I know he is.
Mine is done quickly. He bandages it up and sends us on our way. I don’t ask if she wants to go home or if she has other plans. I need to go home. There are three people waiting for us and I have something to show them.
As soon as we pull into the driveway, Jenna is walking out. She looks tired, run down.
“What’s wrong?” Katelyn asks her. Katelyn puts her hands on Jenna’s shoulder to hold her still.
“I think I have the flu. I’m sorry if I got the kids sick.”
“It’s okay,” Katelyn says, walking Jenna to her car. I wait for Katelyn at the bottom step and make faces at Peyton who is staring at me through the picture window.
“I hope she’s not sick,” Katelyn says, meeting me at the step.
Katelyn shakes her head. “I don’t think so. Heck, the last time I heard her talk about a guy was when she kept talking about you when I had a sleepover. She kept asking me if she could ask you out.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Oh yeah, what’d you say?”
Katelyn rolls her eyes and leans into me. She stands on her tippy toes to kiss me. “They were mean to me at that slumber party, Harrison. They teased me until I told them that I was in love with you.”
I rub my hands up and down her arms. “Poor baby,” I say, kissing her nose. “Come on, we have kids waiting for us.” I pull her hand into mine as we walk up the steps and into the house.
Three eager children meet us at the door. Quinn is used to me coming back with new ink all the time, but not Katelyn. We didn’t hide that she was getting a tattoo from them and they all seemed excited. Peyton, mostly. I have a feeling that she’s going to be the hellion of the trio.
“What’d you get?” Quinn asks.
Katelyn lifts her shirt and I pull down the bandage. The girls move closer and I tell them not to touch it because it needs to heal.
“What’d you get, Dad?”
“How do you know I got anything?”
Quinn laughs. “Because I know you, you got something. Come on and show us.”
I take off my shirt, much to the giggles of the girls. They colored on me last night and I didn’t bother scrubbing off their ink. I pull down the bandage and risk a look at Katelyn. She has tears pooling in her eyes. Happy tears.
“Perfect,” Quinn says, making me happy that he approves. The transition for us has been seamless. We fit as a family. He treats the girls as if they’re his sisters and has the utmost respect for Katelyn. In the nine weeks we’ve lived together, I’ve heard him call her mom a few times and she didn’t miss a beat when she answered him. I think the moment I knew she was in this for the long haul was when she introduced Quinn as her son.
The twins step forward, both of them looking at me with awe in their eyes. I kneel down so that we’re eye level. “What do you think, guys?”