by Katy Kaylee
“Why are you asking me?” Hollie asked.
Shit, I thought. So much for being subtle.
“Oh, no reason, really,” I said. “It’s just she seems really quiet and down lately.”
“She does,” Hollie said. She bit her lip. “Maybe she’s feeling awkward because she’s been staying here for so long. I guess staying in another person’s house can make you feel kind of weird.” Draining the rest of her wine, she carried her glass over to the sink and washed it out. Hollie walked back over to me, dipped down and kissed me on the cheek.
“I’m going out,” she said, looking slightly guilty. “Maybe that’s why Paris is so unhappy. Maybe she’s jealous.”
I shrugged awkwardly.
“I should spend more time with her,” Hollie added. Checking her watch, she cursed under her breath. “I really need to go, Dad,” she said. “I’ll see you later,” she added.
Then, she left, leaving me alone with my thoughts in the kitchen and Paris sleeping in the guest room overhead. It was strange – I’d been keeping my distance, but avoiding Paris entirely had proven impossible.
I got up from the table and put my wine glass in the sink next to Hollie’s. Just as I was reaching for the soap, the glass slipped from my wet hand and shattered in the sink.
“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath. The shards of glass spilled all over the sink and I scooped them up as carefully as I could. The glasses had been a gift from someone when Krista and I had gotten married, and I felt strangely empty that this was yet another sign of life continuing without her.
“Harrison? Is everything okay?”
I turned and saw Paris standing in the doorway. She was wearing a loose-fitting t-shirt and yoga pants, but she still looked spectacular. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and yawned, striding into the kitchen and sitting down at the table.
“Yeah, it’s nothing,” I told her. “I just broke a glass. It’s nothing, really.”
Paris frowned. “Don’t cut yourself,” she said, watching over me as I gathered the shards of glass and dumped them into the trash.
“It’s late,” I told her. “You should probably go back to bed.”
A hint of a smile spread over Paris’s face. “I can’t,” she complained. “I was so dumb – I laid down, just for a couple of minutes, and I fell asleep. Now I don’t think I’m going to be able to go back to bed for hours.”
I should have been tired, but after working so many long nights, I’d become a total night owl. Paris and I had spent a few evenings together in the last month, completely platonic, of course, and I’d started teaching her card games in an attempt to keep the tension at bay.
“You want to play cards?” Paris asked.
I nodded. “Sure.” For a moment, I wondered if I should offer her some wine – there was still half of the bottle left. But I didn’t want her reading into anything, and I kept my mouth shut as I took the cards and poker chips from the sideboard and walked over to her.
“Poker?” I asked her.
“Sure,” Paris said, but she seemed distracted to me.
She’s probably just tired, I told myself. It’s always disorienting waking up when it’s dark and you’re wide awake.
I shuffled and dealt the cards, furrowing my brow as Paris picked up her hand. She was clearly distracted, staring down at her hands or the table and avoiding my gaze.
“Let’s go with aces and deuces for wild cards,” I said.
Paris nodded.
“Ante?” I reminded her.
“Oh, sorry,” Paris said. She put a green chip down on the table and stared at her hand. I matched it, and she laid down a bet of another green chip.
“That rough?” I joked.
Paris shrugged. I met her bet, and then called.
“I don’t have anything,” Paris said, laying down a hand with an ace, two kings, a four, and a three.
“You have three kings,” I told her. “Remember? Aces are wild?”
“What?” Paris asked. She flushed and looked away. “Oh, yeah. Sorry. I guess I’m a little more out of it than I thought.”
I didn’t know whether or not I should say anything. I’d thought that she was just distracted, but now I realized there could easily be something else going on.
After another hand, where Paris bet low and had a hand that could have beat me, I knew something else had to be going on. When I took the cards in my hands and prepared to shuffle, I looked up at her.
“What’s on your mind?” I asked her quietly.
“Nothing, really,” Paris said. She yawned. “I’m just tired. And stressed. I don’t know – oh, forget it. It’s really nothing to worry about.”
“I know there’s something on your mind,” I pressed. “I can tell, Paris. You’re ... well, you’re pretty transparent.”
Paris looked up at me and her lower lip began to quiver. She sniffled and took a deep breath.
“I lost my scholarship,” Paris said in a shaky voice. She began to cry, burying her face in her hands as she sobbed harder. “That’s ... that’s why I was stripping, because I need money to go back to school. If I don’t have the money, I can’t go, and, and –” She trailed off, hitching in a deep, shaky breath that made her whole body shiver.
“I didn’t want to let Hollie down,” Paris sobbed. “But I don’t think I’m cut out for college. I don’t think I’m cut out to be a counselor,” she said, crying harder. “I just don’t think I can do it, but I don’t know how to tell her, and I know she’s going to be really upset with me, and—”
“Shhh,” I told her, pulling her chair close to mine and pulling Paris into a hug. She sobbed against my chest, soaking my t-shirt with her tears, and I wrapped my arms around her and stroked her hair. Her sadness was so real, so vulnerable, that it made my heart ache just listening to her.
“You don’t need to worry,” I told her as I stroked her hair. “Everything will work out. I promise.”
Paris lifted her head and looked at me with her eyes. God, those eyes. They were like the most beautiful emeralds, the purest green glass I’d ever seen.
Just looking at her made me forget myself, and before I knew it, I was kissing her.
Paris’s mouth was warm and her cheeks were soaked with hot tears as the kiss grew more intense. She flowed into my arms, kissing me back and moaning softly into my mouth as she wrapped her arms around my neck. Paris shifted closer, moving her weight into my lap and I instantly felt myself grow hard. I wanted her so bad – it was wrong, but being with Paris felt better than anything else that I’d ever experienced.
Groaning with lust, I scooped Paris into my arms and laid her down on the kitchen table, knocking over the poker chips and sending the cards fluttering to the floor. She arched her back, pressing her perfect tits against my chest. Through her thin shirt, I could feel that her nipples were hard, and I was dying to taste them, to suck them, to flick my tongue over them until she howled with pleasure.
The added taboo of being with Paris in a more public place – my kitchen, for god’s sake! – was an incredible turn-on. Excitement and lust raced through my body and my cock throbbed with the urgency of it.
“Oh, Harrison,” Paris moaned in my ear. She nibbled and sucked my earlobe, tasting me. Her hot breath tickled my ear and I shuddered, running my hands all over her perfect body and slipping them under her shirt.
“Do you want me as much as I want you?” I growled huskily.
“Yes,” Paris whispered. “I do.”
18
Paris – Monday
I couldn’t believe it was finally happening again. Harrison did still want me after all. His hard cock pressing into my abdomen and his roaming hands were proof of that, and I was determined to make the most of the hot lust that flowed like lava between us.
“God, yes,” I purred, arching my back and exposing my neck. Harrison put his mouth to my neck and bit me, moving down in a scorching trail of kisses to the neckline of my shirt. He yanked the hem up with his hands,
and my boobs bounced out only to be cupped and stroked by his hands. As his fingers toyed and teased with my stiff nipples, thrilling sensations shot through my whole body. My pussy tingled and my clit throbbed with desire. The flimsy, lacy panties I wore under my yoga pants were already soaked with arousal and I moved, twisting my hips and moaning as the fabric teased my exposed clit.
Harrison bent his head to my chest, sucking my hard nipples and running his teeth over them until I squirmed and moaned. He kept licking and biting at me as his hands moved lower, cupping and squeezing my ass. He pulled my body against his, humping me through our clothing, and then yanked down my yoga pants in a single rough motion that made me gasp with the fierceness of it all.
I’d always wanted him, but it had never been like this. Before, we had explored each other, teased each other, taken our time with languid lovemaking.
But this wasn’t that. This was fast, furious, hot. Harrison grabbed my ass and slid me further on top of the table, spreading my legs and kneeling on the kitchen floor. He dove between my thighs, biting at the crotch of my panties until I tangled my hands in his hair and moaned loudly. The smell of my pussy juice filled the kitchen and I flushed hotly as Harrison clawed my panties down and spread my pussy lips with one hand. My clit was hard and throbbing as he fastened his lips to it and began to suck. Instantly, pleasure raced through my veins and I bucked and gasped and shoved my hips against his face, riding him as hard as I could. His tongue felt so good as it lapped and swirled around my pussy and I cried out in ecstasy as he slid one finger inside of me, then two, then three. He began to rock his hand against my cunt as he sucked at my clit and I felt a powerful orgasm race through my body, making me scream with intense emotion. It felt so good, better than any other orgasm had ever felt, that I screwed my eyes closed and kept moaning and moaning as the waves of pleasure crashed over my head.
“Oh, fuck yeah, baby,” Harrison growled. He got to his feet and locked eyes with me. His dark hair was a mess and there was a blazing, lusty fire in his sapphire eyes as he practically ripped off his shirt and leaned in for a deep, tongue-filled kiss. I loved tasting my musky juices on him and I lapped and sucked at his lips, tongue, and chin, eager to clean myself off of the man I loved.
“Mmmn,” I moaned into Harrison’s mouth as the kiss grew deeper. I reached between our bodies and fumbled with his belt, pushing his pants and boxers down his hips. His cock popped free and I felt it pressing against the soaking entrance to my pussy, waiting to fill me.
“Not yet,” I whimpered, pulling away and getting off the table. Harrison eyed me as I knelt on the kitchen floor and wrapped my hand around his magnificently large cock. I’d never get over the beauty of it, or how soft and hot the skin felt on my hand. I began to pump my hand up and down before licking my plump lips and wrapping them over my teeth. Leaning forward, I took Harrison’s cock in my mouth and began to bob my head back and forth, sucking and licking the underside of his head.
Harrison groaned. He started bucking his hips and thrusting deep into my mouth, filling my mouth with his perfect member. It was like every part of our bodies had been made for each other’s, and I hungrily sucked and pleasured Harrison. Pleasing him made me feel even better, made me feel like I was doing something right, and I enthusiastically pumped my hand up and down his shaft as I took as much of his cock into my mouth as I could.
Harrison tangled his hands in my hair and thrust hard, grunting and groaning with obvious, intense ecstasy. I wanted to feel him come in my mouth, but apparently he had other plans. Gently pushing me away, he reached down and scooped me up, sitting me down on the kitchen table and looking deep into my eyes. Without breaking our gaze, Harrison took my ankles and put them over his shoulders, exposing my pussy to him. I felt so vulnerable, so open as he reached for my tits and pinched my nipples, making me arch my back and cry out. Electric sensations buzzed through my body and just as I was about to scream with delight, Harrison plunged his cock deep inside of me.
We stayed locked together in a single, silent moment before he began to thrust and buck his hips. He buried himself to the hilt in my pussy, arching his back until I felt his balls slamming against my body. We moved and rocked together, him filling me, his hands still on my tits, and he leaned forward to give me a deep kiss.
“Paris,” Harrison groaned into my mouth. He sucked my lower lip and I moaned, shoving my body against his. With my legs over his shoulders, he had deeper access to me than ever before and I was loving every intense moment of it. Sweat broke out over Harrison’s body and dripped from his face to my chest. The room was filled with a salty, musky smell that I loved. Breathing in deeply, I kissed Harrison back as hard as I could. His thrusts were growing faster and more intense by the second and I felt his body buck and shudder against mine. Harrison reached between our bodies and put his hand to my still-sensitive clit, rubbing and massaging it with his thumb.
The effect was instantaneous, and I felt a strong orgasm, even stronger than the one he’d coaxed from me before, begin to rip through me. I surrendered, screaming into Harrison’s mouth as sweat covered my body. We slid back and forth on the kitchen table with the force of his dick thrusting into my body, and I shrieked and howled as my whole self trembled and shook.
“Fuck, baby,” Harrison growled. He broke the kiss and arched his back, filling me with his cock as his own orgasm overtook him. As he trembled and growled, I felt more raw emotion spilling out of him than ever before.
By the time we were finished, I realized that my thigh muscles were aching and sore. Harrison removed my legs from his shoulders, gently gripping my ankles as he lowered them down to the table, and slid out of me. My legs were shaking with the effort of having been stretched so unnaturally, but I felt amazing, like I was glowing.
“God,” I said, closing my eyes and sucking in a deep breath. “That was amazing.”
When I opened my eyes, Harrison was looking at me. “Paris,” he said in a quiet voice, and suddenly I feared the worst.
What was he going to do? Was he going to kick me out again? Was he going to tell me that this had been nothing but a mistake, and that I needed to leave?
A cold shiver of fear ran through me as Harrison motioned for me to get dressed. My shirt was still bunched over my tits and I pulled it down. Hopping down from the table, I pulled on my panties and yoga pants, folding the waistband low at my hips.
Harrison turned from me as he dressed.
“I’d like to talk to you,” he said.
“I know,” I replied. I couldn’t stop my lip from trembling.
To my surprise, Harrison smiled. “Paris, please go into the living room and wait for me,” he said.
Swallowing hard, I had no choice but to obey. I walked into the living room and sat down on the leather couch. My body was still filled with the lingering sensations of my two orgasms, but my mind was running all over the place and doubt and worry were beginning to creep in. Had he only slept with me again because he felt bad for me? Because I’d finally fucked up, and told him about the fact that I’d lost my scholarship?
When Harrison emerged from the kitchen, he was carrying two steaming mugs. He handed one to me and I sniffed, then looked up at him in surprise.
“Hot cocoa,” Harrison said. “I figured that coffee is the last thing you need right now if you’re going to try to get back to sleep.”
The gesture was simple, but it touched me more than almost anything else that he’d ever done. It showed that he did care about my well-being, that he was thoughtful when it came to me.
“Thank you,” I said quietly.
Harrison sat beside me and put his mug on the coffee table.
“We need to figure out how to deal with the attraction between us,” Harrison said. “It’s clear that we’re both unable to avoid it, no matter how much we try to distract ourselves.”
Relief washed over me and I couldn’t help but sigh.
“What?” Harrison asked.
“Nothing,” I said
quickly. “I’m just ... I’m so glad that you’re willing to finally talk about it,” I said. I swallowed hard, then added: “You’re my hero. You always have been. I’ve ... hoped for this to happen for years, to be honest.”
There. I’d said it. Surely Harrison was going to tell me that I was crazy, or tell me that I didn’t know what I wanted because I was so young.
But to my surprise, he looked nonplussed. He swallowed, then nodded slowly.
“It’s inappropriate,” he said finally. “You are very young, Paris.”
His words stung, and I pressed my lips together. I knew that if I wanted something to work with him, I was going to have to try.
Hard.
Reaching my hand into the air, I pressed a finger to Harrison’s lips and looked deeply into his blue eyes.
“We owe it to ourselves,” I said softly. “To explore this. The connection between us.”
Harrison was silent, and he didn’t attempt to brush my finger away.
“We’ve both been through so much, we shouldn’t deny it,” I continued quietly.
Harrison opened his lips and I pulled my hand away.
“How do you expect us to be able to do that under the roof that we share with Hollie?” Harrison asked. “She’s your best friend, the last time I checked.”
I felt a pang of guilt. It was true – Hollie was my best friend, and no doubt she’d be really angry, betrayed, and unhappy if she knew my true hope: to someday, become the next Mrs. Hendricks.
But over the summer, something between us had changed. Keeping so many secrets from her had been insanely difficult, and she wasn’t stupid – I knew that she knew something was going on, even if she didn’t know just what it was. The secrets were piling up: losing my scholarship, stripping, almost getting raped in a hotel...
And of course, the biggest one: sleeping with her father.
Well, not just sleeping with.
Falling in love with, too.
“It’s not ideal,” I said finally, swallowing and shifting on the couch. “I know it’s not ideal. But we can take it slow, right? And let things happen naturally.”