by Katy Kaylee
Had he been spending time with Madison?
I was dying to know what the two of them were doing together. I knew that Harrison was attracted to me – his hard cock had more than proven that point – but I was so different from Madison. Whereas I was soft and pale and curvy, she was tanned and toned and silicone. She was platinum bottle-blonde to my natural auburn, and she had the sparkling personality of a porn star where I had always felt comfortable in places like libraries and coffee shops.
Maybe men didn’t have a type, after all. Maybe all those women’s magazines I’d read growing up had been wrong.
But no, Harrison wasn’t like that. He wasn’t the kind of man who would just fuck someone for the sake of doing it.
That was why I was having such a hard time wrapping my brain around the idea of him and Madison together.
“Um, Paris?”
My head snapped up and I blushed brightly to see Hollie giving me a weird look.
“Sorry,” I apologized. “What was that?”
“What were you thinking about?” Hollie challenged. “You looked really upset for a minute there.”
“I’m fine,” I told her, even though I wasn’t sure it was true.
Then again, Harrison had insisted that I refuse to go back on stage, that I quit The Pink Diamond.
Was it possible that he really did care for me, after all?
Hollie got to her feet. She took her plate and Harrison’s plate over to the sink and started washing them. I followed her with my own.
“So, what are you doing tonight?” Hollie asked me. “Are you working?”
“Yeah,” I said, glancing over my shoulder at Harrison. He was staring down at his phone, and I wondered if he was listening to us. “But not until later.”
“Oh, well, I’ll probably be out late,” Hollie said. She gave me a lascivious grin. “At least, I hope I will be.”
I blushed. “Have fun,” I told her. “I hope it goes well.”
Hollie finished washing her dishes and I took over, soaping my plate and rubbing the sponge over it until it was clean.
“Hear that, Dad,” Hollie teased on her way out of the kitchen. “I’m going on a date.”
Harrison looked up and nodded. “Have fun,” he said. “Be safe.”
Hollie took her purse and went out the front door, leaving me alone with Harrison. I felt awkward around him now, even though we’d become more intimate than I had ever thought possible. We’d had sex twice, but did it mean anything to him?
I wondered what his plans were for the evening. I assumed that he was going to the club, to see Madison, and part of me wanted to go along just because he was going to be there. Without saying a word, Harrison got up and left. I heard his footsteps go up the stairs followed by the sound of a door closing. With a sigh, I sat down at the kitchen table and propped my chin up on my fist.
There was another part of me, too. And that part as wondering what Angel was talking about yesterday. He’d mentioned making more money, and I’d have been lying if I wasn’t tempted. There was a niggling feeling that I couldn’t shake in the back of my mind, and I knew it had to do with Harrison. He’d told me that he didn’t want me dancing anymore. And whatever Angel had in mind, well, it probably had to be a lot more than just dancing if he had promised me so much more cash.
Despite my confusion over my relationship with Harrison, I still loved him. In fact, now I found that I loved him more than ever before. The thought of dancing for other men, even random anonymous strangers, didn’t sit well with me. How could I take my clothes off for other men when I loved Harrison so much?
I swallowed hard. I couldn’t keep doing this to myself – I couldn’t keep torturing myself and putting myself through the ringer. I had to know how he felt about me, how he felt about this whole situation.
Taking a deep breath, I got up from the kitchen table and went upstairs. Harrison’s bedroom door was closed and I knocked on it, then waited for an answer.
There was no response, and I turned the knob and walked inside. He wasn’t anywhere to be seen, but I heard the sound of the shower from the attached bath.
The thought of him in the shower, soaping his masculine, sexy body, gave me an idea that made me blush all over. I wanted to badly to know how he felt about me ... but how could I, when sex is all that we’ve had between us? Not to mention, it had always been related to the club. It had always been when he’d just seen me in lingerie and heavy makeup and big heels. He’d never seen me for just me, bare-faced and shoeless.
Was it me that he wanted, or was it the idea of me stripping that he was so attracted to?
Maybe it could be different.
Maybe I had a way to find out his true feelings for me.
I steeled myself and opened the bathroom door. Sure enough, Harrison was in the shower, his body concealed by the frosted glass walls.
When he heard the sound of the door, he opened the shower and stuck his head out. There was a wide range of emotions on his face as he stared at me.
“Paris, what are you doing in here?” Harrison asked.
We locked eyes. Without saying a word, and without any kind of dancing or pretension or seductive movement, I stripped off my clothes and climbed into the shower with him.
Harrison stood under the hot spray, the water beating down on his head. He didn’t say a word as I stepped closer. My heart was thudding in my chest as I walked into his arms and kissed him.
For a moment, the kiss was lifeless. Then Harrison woke up. He put his hands on me and pulled me close, nibbling at my lower lip with his teeth and kissing me just as passionately.
He does want me, I thought, deliriously happy as the kiss grew more intense. Arousal and desire swelled in my body and my heart pounded faster and faster as Harrison’s wet, soapy hands moved over my skin in slow, rhythmic circles that made me moan with anticipation. His hands ran down my back and cupped my ass, squeezing it until I wriggled closer and felt his cock grow hard against my lower belly. He was so tall that I had to stand on tiptoe just to kiss him barefoot, and I wrapped my arms around his neck and hoisted myself higher.
Harrison groaned with desire and pulled me under the spray. Delightfully warm water soaked my hair and face – it was like we were kissing in the middle of a beautiful rainforest, alone in the world except for each other. I kept my eyes closed and that only served to heighten the sensations rushing through my body. As Harrison’s hands moved to my hips, then up to my breasts, I shuddered with pleasure. I wanted him to touch me everywhere, to bring me to the edge and tease me until I couldn’t stand it any longer.
As he nuzzled me into a gentle, passionate kiss, I realized that I loved him so much that I could hardly bear it.
13
Harrison – Sunday
I knew it was wrong, but I couldn’t stop myself. I wanted Paris so badly that I couldn’t help pulling her close and touching her exquisite curves. She was so beautiful, so pure, and all mine.
“Harrison,” Paris whispered, her voice barely audible over the gushing water. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, exposing her creamy neck. I leaned down and kissed her earlobe, then left a scorching trail of kisses down her neck and gently bit her shoulder until she squirmed and moaned. Her hands were tangled in my chest hair, soaping me and rubbing me and making me clean. My cock was throbbing to the point where it was almost painful, and I pulled Paris closer to me, shoving my hard dick between her wet, round thighs. Hot pleasure exploded in my body and I grunted with lust, pumping my hips back and forth and rubbing my cock between her legs.
Paris moaned softly. She began grinding her hips and I reached for the bar of soap. After soaping my hands, I put them to her breasts and rubbed in slow, languid circles that made her pant with desire. Her nipples were stiff and puckered and I pulled her under the spray, washing her clean and dipping my head to suck on her clean breasts.
The response was instant. Paris bucked and arched her back, shoving her tits against my face. As I kiss
ed and sucked at her nipples, I soaped my hands once again and put them between her legs, washing her small patch of auburn pubic hair. I let my hand stray dangerously close to her pussy but I didn’t touch her, not yet. Paris whimpered and moaned deep in her throat as she pushed her groin towards me, obviously wanting more. After rinsing her under the water, I dropped to my knees until I was eye-length with her gorgeous pink pussy. Paris looked down at me and steadied herself with a hand on the top of my head as she spread her legs, exposing a deliciously wet cunt. I teased her, licking her inner thighs and gently nipping at the sensitive skin until Paris began to tremble and shake. She was so wet that I could smell her even over the scent of the soap and it was driving me crazy.
I leaned closer and put my mouth to her pussy lips, sucking and biting and licking. Paris tangled her hand in my hand and spread her thighs, stepping apart and exposing her hard little clit. She smelled and tasted so good that I groaned into her pussy as I flicked my tongue over her most sensitive spot. I wanted to keep at it, keep eating her until she squirted all over my face, but in that moment I needed her, needed her in a way that I never had before. I got to my feet and kissed Paris deeply, letting her lick my face clean of her juices. She put her arms around my shoulders and I walked her backward, pressed her against the cool, tiled wall of the shower. Paris was curvy, but she wasn’t heavy, and lifting her in my arms practically took no strength at all. As if reading my mind, she wrapped her long legs around my waist and I felt my cock slip deep inside her perfect, tight pussy.
“You’re so wet for me,” I growled in her ear, pressing her harder against the wall and bucking my hips. Every thrust, every stroke of my cock in her felt better than the last and soon we were moving together in a perfect rhythm. My lust flowed faster and faster and we kissed, Paris moaning into my mouth as my cock slammed inside of her, buried to the hilt in her cunt.
Paris arched her back, shoving her wet, soapy tits against my chest and the sensation of her hard little nipples rubbing my body was torture. I groaned, thrusting deep and filling her. I could feel her clit rubbing eagerly against my body with every thrust. Having all of her in my arms like that, soaking wet and driven mad with pleasure, was the most erotic experience of my life and I knew it wouldn’t be long until I came hard and filled her with my seed.
“Harrison,” Paris whimpered in my ear before taking my earlobe into her mouth and sucking furiously. Her hot little tongue and mouth felt so fucking good that I shuddered and bucked my hips, grunting and grinding against her. I couldn’t fight the urge to fill her, thrust deep in her, claim her.
Make her mine.
Forever.
Paris began to shudder and she threw her head back against the tile wall as a powerful orgasm began to churn through her body. I felt her pussy clench my cock as each wave of delicious pleasure overtook her body. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she shrieked and moaned, crying out and calling my name, over and over again as she trembled and shook.
Seeing her do that, hearing the raw passion and emotion in her voice, was too much for me and I came, hard. My cock twitched and trembled, gushing inside of Paris’s lovely body. We howled and moaned together, kissing wetly and sloppily, our tongues finding each other as the feeling grew hotter and hotter.
When it was over, I took a deep, shuddering breath. The water had turned from hot to lukewarm and I slowly let Paris down to the ground before turning it off and standing in silence with her. My muscles ached from the effort of holding Paris in the air while fucking her, and I was trembling.
This wasn’t right.
Paris stepped out of the shower and gave me a shy smile as she reached for a towel and began drying off that lovely, stunning body of hers. I swallowed hard and looked away. Stepping out of the shower, I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around my waist to cover my nakedness.
I couldn’t keep doing this. It wasn’t just that it wasn’t sustainable, but it was immoral. Paris was a young woman, too young to truly know what she wanted. And now that the cloud of lust was ebbing in my brain, I was beginning to see the situation for what it was.
Disgusting. I was so pathetic – I couldn’t resist temptation. As soon as she’d stepped into the bathroom, I should have told her to leave. But there had been a look in her eyes, a hungry, vulnerable gleam that had bewitched me even more than the sight of her naked, pale curves. Of course, I was attracted to her body. There wasn’t a single red-blooded American male who could have looked at Paris without wanting her. Her gorgeous red hair, her green eyes, and those curves ... just the sight of her was enough to set me on fire.
But it wasn’t just that. My attraction to Paris went far deeper than just surface level. Ever since I’d first met her, ten years ago, I’d seen that she was a queen - sweet, and smart young woman. She was so pure and innocent ... even while making love, she was transparent and open and unfettered. There was no artifice when it came to Paris. She didn’t play games, and she wasn’t cruel.
I was fucking in love with her, and it was wrong.
If we kept this up, I was so afraid that she would lose that innocence. I was afraid that if she knew truly the kind of work I did, it would ruin everything for her. I wouldn’t be her hero anymore – she’d look at me and see a broken, damaged man. She had put me on a pedestal for so long and shamefully, I’d always accepted it.
But now that we were sleeping together, it had to end. She still looked at me the same way that she had on the day we’d met, when she’d run into my arms and cried and held me tightly. Thinking about that day killed me. She hadn’t even known me – for all she had been aware of, I could have been another asshole like the drug dealer who had locked her up.
No. She had trusted me, she had given herself to me. She’d put her face in my neck and whispered her thanks and clung so tightly to me that my partner at the time had jokingly called her a spider monkey.
I’d thought that she’d grow out of her admiration for me. After all, she deserved far better than a used up old man. She deserved someone her own age, who could devote his entire life to her and worship her the way she deserved to be worshipped.
She deserved someone who could maintain her innocence and purity and faith in the world. For everything that Paris had been through, she had no reason to be as forgiving and sweet and kind as she was. She should have been hardened and cynical.
I couldn’t risk changing that. If I did something to make Paris see the world for what it truly was – grimy and gritty and full of horrors – I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.
I had to put an end to this, and not just for my own good but also for hers. Paris would be better off without me. Not to mention, if Hollie ever found out, it would kill her. Paris couldn’t stand to lose Hollie, her best friend. Hollie had been her constant companion and her rock, and I would die before seeing that fade.
I knew it would hurt like hell. I loved Paris, deeply. And even knowing that it was for her own good wouldn’t help things.
There was no doubt in my mind that I was going to be hurting over this for the rest of my life.
I cleared my throat. Paris turned to me, still clad in a towel. Her damp auburn hair was clinging to her face and her cheeks were flushed with post-coital bliss. Her green eyes were wide as she searched my face.
“You can’t stay here anymore,” I told her gruffly.
Paris’s jaw dropped.
“I want you out,” I said, narrowing my eyes and clenching my towel around my waist with one fist.
Paris’s chin began to wobble and I watched her eyes fill with tears. There was a sharp pain in my chest, like a knife, and for a moment I wondered if I was going into cardiac arrest.
Then I realized it was only because my heart was breaking.
“And I want you to quit dancing at The Pink Diamond,” I told her sharply. “And stay away from it. Do you understand?”
An angry, wounded look came over Paris’s lovely features and she clutched the towel tighter around her curvy body. The whit
e cotton wasn’t quite large enough to conceal her features and I had to force my eyes away from the peek of creamy skin at her thighs.
“You can’t tell me what to do,” Paris said. Her voice was soft but indignant, and there was fire in her emerald eyes.
“I can,” I said. “And I will. That club is dangerous in ways you haven’t even considered, and you have no business using your body earn…not…not like that.”
Paris narrowed her eyes at me. “I can’t quit,” she said. “I need the money.”
I couldn’t take the look in her eyes. If my chest had ached before, now it felt even worse. I felt nauseous and sick and weak, like I was going to collapse in a pile of my own vomit.
“I don’t care,” I said finally. It wasn’t true, but I couldn’t stand seeing her look at me like that, like a wounded puppy.
“You’re out of my house tomorrow,” I snapped. “And if I see you around that stupid fucking club, I’ll make sure you get fired faster than you can blink.”
Paris’s face went white and bloodless, like she’d been slapped. I could tell that her heart was breaking. She was blinking back tears and swallowing and after staring at me for a long, torturous moment, she gripped her towel tighter than ever and pushed out of the bathroom. She ran past me and slammed my bedroom door in her wake.
Every cell in my body wanted to run after her, to tell her that I was sorry. To take her into my arms and stroke her hair and soothe her crying and beg for her forgiveness. Tell her that I didn’t mean it – tell her that I had been nothing but a complete heel, an asshole, and that I didn’t deserve her.
But I couldn’t. Doing that would undo everything that I had just done, and I couldn’t have her around.
This was for her own good. I just hoped that someday, she’d be smart and wise enough to realize why I’d done what I’d done. I didn’t care if she ever forgave me. I just wanted her to understand that I’d only had her best interests in mind.