Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Paisley

Aria had the absolute nerve to be standing in the way when I barreled for the door, and she only narrowly managed to step to the side so I didn’t plow into her with my armload of snacks.

“Oh my god,” I said. “You. What are you doing in my way?”

She smiled lightly. “Walking into my own house, as far as I see it.”

“And who gave you the right?” I glanced over my shoulder. The living room was clean. Guess that made sense.

“You forgot this was our house.”

“Well… details. Anyway, move your butt, I’m hanging out with Harps.”

“Mm-hm. With all of Emberlynn’s and my snacks, from the looks of things.”

“Ugh! I just needed pretzels. I left the half a custard pie I couldn’t finish in the fridge as a tribute.”

Aria put her hands up, palms toward the ceiling. “Then I guess we’re having custard pie. So…” She trailed off, a look in her eyes that I couldn’t read, and it was awfully rude of her to keep something from me—me, Paisley.

I scowled. “Your rotten girlfriend is rubbing off on you. You’re giving me that same look she does when she won’t spit something out. I know that’s not something you’ve always done.”

“Ah. How about that? Well, she’s always been quite the charismatic person. No surprise she’s able to rub off on people like that.”

Well, she didn’t just rub off on her, she also rubbed her off this morning when I had the horrible misfortune of being awake. Of course, I guess it was on me for being up that late, but I didn’t like the idea of anything ever being my fault, so I put that thought away. “Just spit it out,” I said.

“So, things are going well with Harper?”

Oh, here was one conversation I didn’t need. I considered throwing myself out the window. “Yeah, I got her to start rewatching some old episodes of Buffy with me, so, you know, life’s good.”

“Hm.” She smiled wider, and there was something there—something knowing. She wasn’t supposed to be like this, knowing things about me. It felt kind of gross and scary. “That’s your love language, then? Buffy the Vampire Slayer?”

I wrinkled my nose. “If you’re getting at love language like a lover, then, like… ew, Ar.”

She laughed softly. “Really, though. You do like her, don’t you?”

“Oh my god, let me eat my snacks.”

“She’s the one you’ve been dressing up for lately, right?”

I scoffed. “Paisley doesn’t need to have this conversation,” I said, making a move for the door, but she stepped in front of it, blocking me. “Hey! You can’t block my own door!”

“Good thing I’m not, then. You know, you can’t have something real, meaningful with people if you hide all the things that make you you.”

Oh, she was hitting me right where it hurt. I rolled my eyes. “You’re the worst. Harper’s waiting for me, you know.”

“I mean it. You can’t form a serious connection with somebody unless you’re willing to be…” She put up a hand, searching for words. “Tacky? A little uncool? And a little human.”

I sighed, dropping my shoulders. “Ar…”

“Yes?”

“I left the sink running in the bathroom, by the way.”

She glanced to the side, looking at where the bathroom door was ajar, and I took the golden opportunity to climb out the window, dropping the bag of pretzels in the process. Behind me, I heard Aria shouting my name, but I was above having to listen to my own sister, so I scrabbled in the bush and grabbed the pretzels and booked it across the street to Harper’s, brushing the leaves and twigs off my coat.

I went around to the back and tried the door, but it was locked—why this woman kept locking her door, I had no idea—so I jimmied the window open, and I was halfway through climbing in when I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I jumped so hard I almost dropped the snacks.

“Paisley,” Harper said, her voice dry. “Please just knock.”

“Jesus, you scared me. Knock? You could have been upstairs, in the bathroom, anything. You think I want to wait?” I huffed, pulling my second leg through the window and shoving my snacks into Harper’s hands. She was dressed casually today, loose pants and a sleeveless tank over a sports bra, showing off the sleeve tattoos she had down each arm, and honestly, I’d never realized I would go for a girl with tats like Harps.

Harper sighed, shoving her hand in her pocket and rummaging around. “That does it,” she said. “You’ve broken in through the window for the last time, and I’m done.”

I stuck my tongue out. “What are you gonna do, tase me?”

“I’m tempted.” She pulled out a keychain instead, two keys jingling on it, and she thrusted it towards me. “I copied the keys to the building. Please. Just… just use the doors instead. I’m begging you.”

I felt something thick in my throat as I took the keys. “Harper,” I said. “Asking me to move in with you? That’s so romantic.”

“All I’m saying—” Harper blurted, her face reddening. She was so cute like this, I couldn’t stand it. I wanted to kiss her again.

“Hey, I’m saying yes.”

“Uh—” She stammered, blanking on words, blushing harder. I pushed the keys into my pocket, strolling past her.

“We’re basically married now,” I hummed. “C’mon, wifey. Let’s get to our show.”

“P-Paisley. I just want you to stop climbing onto my roof.”

“Hey, you have to have one wife who climbs the roof to fix the shingles.”

“I don’t even have shingles! And—have you ever done roofing a day in your life?”

I paused at the base of the stairs, beaming at her. “Whatever you say, sweetheart. Do you want to watch a show with me or stand here in an empty room while I eat your snacks?”

She hung her head, following along behind me with her shoulders hunched. “You’re so incorrigible,” she muttered, and really, I was just upset she kept her face down so I couldn’t see her blush. I was tempted to just take her by the chin and tilt her back up to look at me, but… well, we’d probably be down here all day if I did.

And then I’d never get to sit on the couch with my wife and watch Buffy, and if that wasn’t torture, I didn’t know what was.

I busied myself making coffee once we got upstairs, Harper setting up the show, and I dropped myself on the couch next to her as she started up the episode we’d left off on yesterday. I cuddled up next to her, feeling impossibly like I could not get close enough no matter how hard I tried, and we weren’t five minutes into the episode before I had both arms wrapped around her, my head tucked into the crook of her neck, one leg crossed over hers possessively. It was like every little bit of pulling her closer to me made my heart so full, and I was addicted, just wanting all I could get. It was halfway through the episode when I found myself idly kissing her bare shoulder just below the hem of her shirt, and she murmured something softly as she melted back into me.

I kind of wondered if this was what having a wife was like in the first place. I kept my attention only half-focused on the show, peppering kisses lightly on the back of her head, on her neck, caressing the soft skin of her arm.

If it was, then having a wife sounded pretty cool. My parents definitely didn’t do this, though. I wondered if you just stopped wanting to after a while. Hard to wrap my head around. I could have kept doing this with Harps forever.

Once the end credits of the episode were rolling, Harper murmured, “I didn’t say it, but you look cute today. That’s a new shirt?”

“Mm-hm. Kay said the color’s nice. And works with my coat, too.”

“I have noticed you’re fond of the coat.”

“It’s a signature piece. Don’t complain that your wife is fashionable.”

“I’m not,” she laughed. “I like the lip color today too.”

“Oh, yeah. It’s the same one I wore to Honey’s.” I laughed lightly, kissing her neck again. “Well, I got my own this time. That time I just swiped Emby’s.”

“You used Emberlynn’s lipstick? I’d feel like I was making out with someone if I used their lipstick…”

“Ew.” I wrinkled my nose. “Don’t put that thought in my head. Gross. Gag. I’m not cheating on my wife.”

“Mm. Good.” She rested her head against me, murmuring softly, and I felt like my chest would explode. We physically could not get any closer, but I kind of… needed her closer.

The next episode came and went. I paid even less attention to this one, too busy sneaking a hand under Harper’s shirt, trailing patterns around her navel, peppering her with kisses without even realizing I was doing it.

And then at the ending credits of the next episode, I stepped in it, because I heard myself say, “Was it a girlfriend?”

“What?”

“Friend? Wife?”

I felt the moment it sank in what I was asking, her muscles tensing. I felt a hot flush of something like guilt.

“I feel like I’m losing my mind not knowing something so big about you.”

She swallowed hard. Her voice was smaller, icier when she spoke. “I think there’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.”

“Then tell me.”

“I can’t.”

“Please? I want to know you…”

She hunched her shoulders, pulling away from me. I ached for her back, feeling like it was half my heart pulling away from me. The episode ended, and she took the remote to move onto the next episode immediately. I sighed.

“I’m sorry. I take it back.”

“It’s whatever,” she said, her voice cold.

“It’s not whatever. I don’t want to make you sad.”

She didn’t say anything. I shifted closer to her again, putting an arm around her waist.

“You know. Happy wife, happy life.”

“I’m not your wife, Paisley.”

“How could anyone not want to be my wife? Look at me.”

She sighed, hanging her head. “Christ, Pais, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be so touchy. I just… I don’t like talking about this.”

“That’s okay. You don’t need to tell me anything,” I said, resting my head on her shoulder again. “I still love you.”

I told her I loved her all the time—you know, in between telling her I hated her—but somehow the words felt so scary right now, and it quivered a little in my throat when I did. I felt it tense, nervous in the air, before she sank into me too. “Yeah, yeah… I love you too,” she said, and it felt every bit as scary when she said it, too.

But it felt right, too. And I couldn’t breathe without her close to me.

We settled back in against one another as the next episode started, slipping my hand up under her shirt and caressing lightly along her waist, kissing softly along her arm and her shoulders and her neck, until one way or another, Harper was lying on her back with me on top of her, watching the show less and less as I kissed her collar, her neck, her jaw. Her lips.

I hadn’t even been trying to, but I couldn’t resist her. I slipped my lips against hers, kissing slowly, caressing her sides, tangling my hands in her hair, kissing—she wrapped her legs around me, murmuring something soft against my lips, slipping her hands up the back of my shirt, and it drove me absolutely wild. Like I had to kiss her, even though I already was—like I needed to kiss her more, impossibly more.

When I took her lower lip lightly between mine, she murmured a soft moan, digging her fingertips into my back, before she pulled back, her face flushed and a breathless smile on her lips.

“You’re the one who harassed me into putting the show on, and I don’t think you’ve watched a single minute of it.”

“I’ve been enjoying a different show.” I stuck my tongue out, propping up on an elbow and tracing my fingertips along her collar. “Like… how cute my wife looks in casualwear.”

She closed her eyes with a breathless sigh. “You mean when I dress like a slob.”

“You look cute like this. Honestly. You could take a load off and stop worrying about how you come across all the time, but what do I know.”

“Mm… not really an option.”

“It is if I tell you…” I trailed my hands down her sides, taking the hem of her shirt between my fingers. “Exactly… what to do. And of course, you’ll do whatever I say. Won’t you, Harper?”

She turned her head, looking away, blushing hard. “I’m not… Paisley…”

“Now, now.” I took her by the chin, tilting her back to look at me, and she caught a shuddering gasp. The rush at controlling her flooded me with this heady sensation that always got out of control, but… I didn’t want to fight it. I bit my lip. “You look at me. Until I tell you to look away. Be a good girl, Harper.”

She swallowed hard, and with a quiet whimper, she nodded. Heat stirred in my abdomen, an aching urge to use her for all the fantasies I had. We’d already had sex at the bungalow and the other day in her bakery after hours, but I was finding I couldn’t get enough of her.

“Good girl,” I said. “Take your shirt off now. I want to see you.”

She didn’t even hesitate. She was a good girl. Her hands shook a little, but she reached down and tugged her shirt up, dropping it onto the floor. I bit my lip, taking her in—the soft, smooth skin of her stomach, the dip in her hips, the contrast between the lightly tanned tone of her skin and the jet-black ink of her tattoos running along her shoulders and tapering off at her collar.

“Hands up above your head,” I said, and she complied, quickly, obediently. She didn’t try to argue we shouldn’t do this anymore—just did what she was told. God, it was addictive.

I bent down and kissed her waist, softly, delicately, savoring the way she jerked her hips up against me at the feathery lightness of the touch. She whimpered, pleading my name under her voice, and I looked up to meet her eyes while I dragged my tongue slowly up along her. She bit her lip hard, and I loved the look of lust flaring in her eyes.

“You need this, don’t you?” I whispered, moving my hand to tease over her inner thigh. She closed her eyes with a low moan, rocking her hips against me, and I savored the moment of Harper desperate, searching for friction, me not quite giving her anything, before I grabbed her roughly by the thighs and spread them wider. She let out a small cry, digging her fingernails into the sofa on either side of her.

“Paisley—”

“Mm. You look so pretty getting so desperate for me.” I pressed a kiss against the front of her pants, feeling the heat of her core burning through the fabric, warm on my lips, and she gasped at the touch.

“Oh my god—”

“You want me to fuck you, don’t you, Harper?”

“I…” She looked away, face burning. I climbed up to straddle her, turning her chin back towards me.

“Be a good girl and say it.”

She whimpered before she nodded, breathless. “I… want you to fuck me.”

There seriously wasn’t anything better in the world than Harper begging me to do whatever I wanted with her. I was getting soaked just seeing her like this. “Good girl,” I said. “Then go ahead and take the rest of this off, too. I want to see you on your knees.”

I’d barely even moved off of her before she was stripping her clothes off frantically, fumbling with the hooks on her bra before she dropped it on the floor, her pants and underwear next.

She was so ready for me. She’d shaved and everything. I bit my lip, stroking up close to the top of her thigh, tracing the creases in her skin there. “You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you, Harper?”

She bit her lip. “Paisley… please…”

I bent down and pressed a kiss against the top of one breast. “If you’re going to beg, you might as well get on your knees.”

She gasped out a breathless noise, but she obeyed—slipped down off the couch and onto her knees, looking up at me, pleading. “Please,” she whispered, and didn’t she just look so perfect like that? Those innocent, sweet little eyes stained with lust, looking up at me like she’d die if I didn’t take her, use her, ruin her pretty little body? I caressed a hand down the side of her face, cradling her by the chin, and I whispered in the softest tone I could.

“Good girl.”

It always lit her up when I said that. I loved it. I caressed my fingers through her hair, stroking her with my thumb as I looked her over, taking her in.

“You got what I told you to, right?”

She let out a breathless murmur, nodding. “It’s… it’s in the bedroom. Bedside table, on the left.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” I laughed, standing up. “Stay there for me.”

It had been a random impulse telling her to buy a toy, but it was a lot more fun than just buying it myself. And I’d been thinking about it ever since.

I found it in her bedroom right where she’d told me, the O-ring harness and a long, jet-black strap-on dildo, and I fitted it on easily. I still kept my clothes on over it, pants open for the strap, just… the idea of having Harper on her knees naked for me while I was still dressed was fun somehow. And she seemed to like it, too, once I came back out of the bedroom, her eyes fixing squarely on the strap, her face red.

“Someone’s excited,” I laughed, standing over her and having a really, really special time seeing how it looked with my cock in her face. “You could try looking at me, instead of just my cock…”

“I—” She blushed harder still, looking up at me. “S-sorry—I—”

I laughed, brushing my thumb over her cheekbone. “I’m teasing you. You picked out a good one. Fits nicely. You were a very good girl picking this out.”

She swallowed hard. “Paisley…”

“I gave you a compliment.” I put a finger to her lips. “It’s thank you, ma’am.”

“Th-thank you… ma’am.”

“That’s better.” I slipped my hand down her face, cradling her chin. “Now, what shall I do to reward you…?”

Her eyes slid back down to my cock. I let out a murky laugh.

“You’re desperate, aren’t you?”

She didn’t even hesitate, totally under my control at this point. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good girl.” I sank onto the couch in front of her, my legs on either side of her, and I took her by the back of the head and guided her to take it in her mouth, sliding her down over the shaft, slowly, easing her down onto it a bit at a time. The obscene noises her mouth made on it, the way her whole body arched into it like there was nothing else she existed for except to choke on my cock—god, though, I really needed to fuck her.

She came up a second later gasping for air, her face redder, breathing hard, and I bit my lip, gripping her hair tightly in my fist.

“You like sucking my cock, don’t you?”

She nodded, breathlessly.

“Good girl. You look so pretty on your knees taking it down your throat like that.” I took her by the back of the head again, guiding her down over my cock, watching it disappear into her mouth, watching her bob slowly up and down on me.

God, I was getting wet.

It wasn’t long before I couldn’t hold back any longer, and I pulled her up off of me and tilted her head back, bending down to press my lips against hers in a fierce, heated kiss. She moaned against my lips, and I felt her movements as she touched herself absently, her shoulder shifting with the movement. Good. I wanted her as ready as possible.

I pulled away and swept an arm over the table behind her, clearing the junk on it over to the side, and I tugged Harper up to her feet before I pushed her back onto the table—she went all too eagerly, letting out a gasp that turned into a moan as she sank back on the table, wrapping her legs around me, her face glazed with lust, with need.

She was so pretty like this. Shame I hadn’t thought to record this time. We’d have to do it again.

“Going to be a good girl now and take my cock?” I whispered, and she bit her lip hard, nodding. I guided the tip of the strap-on to her entrance, teasing along her folds, and she groaned, rocking her hips, searching for more. “Tell me what you want,” I said.

“Please—please fuck me.”

“Good girl.” I gripped her by the shoulder, holding her in place while I pushed my cock inside her—moving slowly, even though I just wanted to fuck her ferociously, without inhibitions—pushing in as she arched her back and pressed her head against the table surface, until she’d taken the full length of it, and I held there, deep inside her, against her.

I pulled out slowly, feeling how easily it moved against her slick walls, until it was just the tip inside her, and moving in one swift motion, I thrust back deep inside her, and she cried out, gripping me tighter with her legs, a haze settling over her features.

God, I wanted to fucking break her.

I found my hips moving by themselves, pulling back and thrusting back into her, fucking her relentlessly, and she gasped, cried out, strained against me, rocking her hips and grinding on my cock. She started out gasping words, pleading, desperate, trying to say something, but it turned into wild noises of animalistic lust as I broke her down, fucking her senseless. She slipped a hand down between her legs, running tight circles over her clit, moving faster and arching her back more into me the higher she went, the more her orgasm built, and just as she was about to climax—she struggled trying to say it, but her voice slurred and she couldn’t get through two words in a row, but I saw it in her eyes, in the way she strained every muscle—I bent over her and clasped a hand on her mouth, muffling her. She collapsed into an explosive orgasm, a muffled scream against my hand as she clenched tight around me, thrusting her hips into me, taking my cock as deep as it could go and hanging there in an orgasm so powerful she seemed totally whited out, before she slumped against the table, breathing hard, gasping for breath once I pulled my hand away from her mouth.

Slowly, I pulled myself out of her, and I bent down to kiss her, a slow and languid thing before she broke off laughing breathlessly.

“God,” she whispered. “Oh… wow.”

“Yeah? Happy with your purchase?”

She laughed, turning her head away, red-faced and breathless. I let her have it this time. “You… holy hell, Paisley.”

“I’m glad you like it.” I sat on the table next to her, running my fingers idly over her naked body. I couldn’t get enough of touching every inch of her. “Have to make sure I can satisfy my wife, you know.”

“Mm. You do a really good job…”

I caressed my fingers down her thighs, feeling her twitch at the sensitivity right now. “Just let me know when you’re ready for my turn, because I need to come all over you after all of that.”

“God, yes. Please. Just one second.”

She was a great wife. I could not get enough.