13. Harper

Bailey forcesme to cook with him twice a week for the next month. Secretly I enjoy it, but that doesn't stop me from grumbling and being dramatic about it. I couldn't make any of the meals we cook together, but I have improved at cutting vegetables. Of all the tedious tasks to be half-good at, I can cut an onion without making my eyes water.

It's Friday. I've been in London most of the day schmoozing. The last thing I want to do is cook, but if it makes Bailey happy, I will.

"Hello, husband," I say as I enter the door. "What are we cooking tonight?"

"Nothing."

Bailey joins me as I hang my coat and put my shoes away. He rests his hands on my hips and kisses me softly. We do that now. Greet each other with touches and kisses.

"Nothing? Oh god, we'll starve. Starve!"

Bailey laughs. "You are a loon."

"I know. Are you taking me out for dinner? Or are we getting takeaway so we can have a sexy night in? Have you asked the chef to work tonight?" I pull Bailey against me and conclude my questions with a deep kiss.

Bailey hums against my lips, sending delightful vibrations through them. It's almost as amazing as when he hums while his lips are stretched around my cock.

"I figured you'd be tired and would appreciate being pampered rather than having to cook," Bailey says.

"I would." I brush his hair away from his forehead. "But you were out all night. You must be tired too."

"I've slept since then."

"True. Are you volunteering again tonight?"

"No. Not tonight."

I grind against him. "So you're all mine?"

"Yes."

I kiss him more passionately. "How is my beautiful husband going to pamper me?"

"With chocolate fondue and a film."

"And sex?"

His eyes sparkle as he laughs. "If you behave."

I pout. "I always behave."

He rolls his eyes, then takes my hand and leads me downstairs to the cinema room. The lights are already low, and a film is queued on the projector screen. A black fondue pot is on the long, low table, with trays of things to dip in—fruit, marshmallows, cookies, brownies, pretzels, popcorn, and sweet waffles.

"Wow. I take it you want to give me a sugar rush?" My gaze snags on a dark glass bottle. "We can't dip massage oil."

"That's for me to use on you." He kisses my cheek. "I told you I'm going to pamper you tonight. Take your shirt off, sit, and relax."

"I don't need to be told twice." I remove my shirt and tie and sit on the sofa.

Bailey pushes a footstool under my legs. "I hope you like the film."

He uses the remote to start it, picks up the massage oil, and stands behind me. He drops some oil onto his palms and rubs his hands together, then pushes his hands against my shoulders and neck.

"Oh, god." I groan. "Your fingers are magic."

"You normally say that about my tongue."

It's hard to keep my eyes open to watch the film as he works the knots in my shoulders loose. When I'm completely relaxed, he sits beside the footstool, removes my left sock, and massages my foot.

"That feels so good." I tip my head against the top of the sofa and try to watch the film.

He's chosen one of my favourites, a silly comedy with lots of slapstick humour. I must have mentioned it to him during one of our conversations. Either that or he consulted my parents. Not that I want to think about them while he's doing divine things to the sole of my foot with his knuckles and fingertips.

After he's massaged my other foot, he slips away and comes back with hands that no longer glisten with massage oil. He plucks a whole strawberry off the tray and dips it in liquid chocolate. He brings it to my lips, and I bite on the succulent fruit. Bailey licks the chocolate and strawberry juice that dribbles down my chin.

"You are spoiling me," I whisper.

"I'm trying to."

"You're succeeding." My chest is tight.

He continues to feed me slowly so I don't get too pumped up on chocolate and sweet things throughout the rest of the film. I laugh until my sides hurt, even though I've seen the film a dozen times. Bailey chuckles too. I wrap my arm around his waist, wanting to feel connected. He's beautiful and sweet. I'm so lucky to get to spend another few months with him. It's hard to breathe for a moment. Will we be able to remain friends after our divorce, or will he vanish?

"Great choice of film," I say as the credits roll.

"Do you want to watch another?"

I shake my head, hold his hips, and pull him close for a kiss.

"You taste of chocolate and strawberries," he whispers.

"And the rest." I waggle my eyebrows. "Did you know that chocolate and strawberries are aphrodisiacs?"

"Hm, I might have known that."

"Is that why you've been feeding them to me?"

He chuckles. "And the rest."

I pat my lap. Bailey moves to straddle me, his arms looped over my shoulders.

"This is the most thoughtful thing anyone's ever done for me." A lump has formed in my throat. My voice sounds a little strangled.

"That can't be true."

I stare into his eyes. "It is."

He leans forward and pecks my lips. "I'm allowed to spoil my husband, aren't I?"

"Whenever you want, Bay."

He blushes. "I know it's not much, and it probably pales in comparison to you building me an art studio, but I wanted to do something nice for you. I wanted to spoil you."

"It's amazing. Better than an art studio."

He frowns.

I put my hand over his heart. "Because it came from here. It's easy for me to splash cash around, but you put a lot of thought into this. I'm never going to forget tonight, Bay. Never."

He curves his lips into a trembling smile.

"The more time I spend with you, the more I discover how amazing you are."

His blush deepens. "I'm not."

"You are." I cup his cheek. I want to clear my throat to rid myself of the lump, but I doubt I'll get rid of it that easily. "Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

"You want to get into my pants."

"Hey, I'm the one who's topless. I think you want to get into mine."

"Guilty." He pulls away from me.

I catch hold of his wrist. "Where are you going?"

"To fetch lube and condoms. That's one detail I didn't think of."

"We have massage oil."

"But no condoms."

"Do we need them?"

Bailey hesitates, half on, half off my lap.

"We've been married for almost three months. I haven't slept with anyone else."

"Nor have I."

"And I only ever used condoms before that."

"Same."

I release his wrist and hold his hips. "Do you want to fetch lube and condoms?"

He smashes his lips against mine, kissing me fiercely. "No. Massage oil will do." He sits astride my lap, right over my cock, and grinds against me. "I want you inside me, Harper."

"With pleasure, husband."

He stands and hurriedly takes his jeans and underpants off. Then he undoes my trousers and frees my cock as he kisses me. He strokes me dry for a few moments, then reaches for the massage oil. Not that he uses it right away. He takes me into his mouth instead.

I gasp, tip my head back, and push my fists against the sofa cushions. "You're so good at that, Bay."

He pops his mouth off my cock. "I aim to please."

"You do, husband, you do."

He pours massage oil into his hand and works it all over my cock, his gaze fixed on mine as he slowly and sensually moves his hand up and down my shaft.

"Let me warm you up." I'm breathless. The lump in my throat is gone, erased by my need for Bailey.

He kneels upright, with his knees on either side of my thighs. He plays with my hair and kisses me while I use a massage oil-slicked finger to warm his arse up.

"Damn, Bay, you're hot and tight for me."

"And you're hard for me." He claims my mouth again.

I adore him when he's like this. During sex, he's always bolder and never afraid to let me know what he wants. It's sexy.

I work my way up to three fingers. Once they're moving back and forth with ease in his relaxed channel, I pull them free and grasp his hips. He pumps my cock a few times and then, with my help, lowers himself onto my cock. We groan as he takes me all the way inside. He rises and falls, riding my cock like a cowboy sitting on the back of a bucking bronco. I squeeze and part his arse cheeks so he can take me deep and hard. We kiss, gasp, and grunt. Sweat breaks out on his delicate face. God, he looks beautiful. Whenever we're not kissing, he stares into my eyes, passion and desire swirling in the ocean-blue depths of his irises.

"Bay." Why did I say his name?

This man makes me think, do, and feel things I never have. I'm going to miss him when our marriage is over. My heart quivers. My chest tightens. Letting someone go has never been frightening, but it is now.

"Harper." He cups my jaw and slows his pace. He barely lifts before sinking again. "Are you okay?"

"Yes." Why did he ask? Did he see something on my face or in my eyes?

"Sure?"

"I'm fucking my gorgeous husband. Why wouldn't I be okay?"

"Just checking." He kisses me softly.

He rides me slowly for several moments, drawing out our lovemaking until his lashes are fluttering, and he looks like he's on the brink of ecstasy. I am too. My balls are full and drawn up tight. My cock aches with every squeeze of his arse.

"Come with me, husband," I whisper.

He slams his lips against mine and takes me deep and hard. His arse tightens around my cock, and his body shudders. His cum splatters over my quivering stomach. My balls release their load deep inside him. I shiver, tremble, and thrust into him as I ride the heady, stomach-crunching wave of my orgasm. We still, gasping as we stare into each other's eyes.

"I—" I lick my lips, unable to find the words.

We've fucked plenty of times since we decided to change the rules of our marriage. I inside him. He inside me. But this was different. I can't explain how or why, but it is.

Bailey rests his face against my bare shoulder. "You feel so good inside me."

"Your arse feels good around my cock."

His muscles quiver around my length. Cum dribbles out of his arse and drips over my balls and the insides of my thighs.

"Can I stay here for a while?" he asks. "I don't think I can stand."

I wrap my arms around him. "Stay as long as you want, Bay." My chest is trapped in a vice made of fear and impending loss. Our divorce is nine months away, so why does it feel like it might as well be happening tomorrow?

"Bay."

He turns his face against my neck. "Hmm?"

"I loved every second of this evening. Thank you."