Page 89 of Pining for Pierce

“Why?”

He stands up, lifting me with him. “Because we can spend it in bed,” he says, carrying me through to the bedroom, and kicking the door closed behind us.

Chapter Eighteen

Pierce

I know the way to the Bowman Gallery, but I’ve still put the address into the navigation system in Harley’s car, just in case. That’s probably because I’m so hyped, I’m worried I’ll take a wrong turn, or just drive right past the place.

I’ve left Harley at the apartment, although she surprised me by coming home a little early from work, saying she’d finished up as soon as she could because she wanted to get back and help me.

“Help me with what?” I asked.

“I don’t know… I can help you choose what to wear, if you like.”

I hadn’t even thought about what I was going to wear, and I closed the store, taking her upstairs with me. We went straight through to the bedroom, and having clearly sensed my nerves, Harley sat me on the bed and handed me a pair of dark blue jeans and a smart white button-down shirt. As I stood and got undressed, she put the jeans on the bed and took the shirt from its hanger, rolling up the sleeves.

“Is that a good idea?” I said, assuming she’d chosen it to hide my tattoos.

“Why not? You don’t wanna look like you’re trying too hard.” She glanced up at me, lowering the shirt.

“That’s not what I meant,” I said as I held out my bare arms. “Karl Bowman is probably around the same age as my dad, and you know how he reacted to my tattoos.”

“So? Not everyone is the same. And besides, you should let him see the real you,” she said, and then leaned up to kiss me.

I liked that… not just the kiss, which was reassuring, but also the fact that she seemed to think Mr. Bowman would be impressed by the ‘real’ me.

She watched me dress, sitting on the edge of the bed and studying me, which ought to have felt unnerving, but was actually comforting, and once I was ready, she escorted me down the stairs.

“I’ll fix us something for dinner while you’re out,” she said.

“Okay.”

That sounded wonderfully domesticated, although I don’t know what she’s making for us… and I don’t care. I love the fact that she’s there, doing something for us, and that I’ll be going back to her.

I miss her – obviously.

I miss her every second I’m not with her. But, to be honest, I’m also preoccupied with what’s going to happen in the next hour or so. It could be the break I’ve been waiting for… or it could be nothing at all. I can’t be sure, and until I am, I don’t think I’ll be able to relax.

The traffic is fairly heavy, and I’m pleased I used the Sat/Nav now. It means I don’t have to focus too hard on where I’m going, which means I can also loosen up a little – or try to –and the easiest way is to let my mind drift to Harley, and the weekend we’ve just spent together.

I’ve been a little preoccupied, thinking about tonight, and I guess it didn’t help that I’ve had such a long time between receiving Karl Bowman’s invitation to come here, and themeeting itself. We’ve filled the time well, though, starting with Friday evening… which was spectacular.

What happened on the couch before dinner was mind-blowing. It’s interesting… that’s something I’ve done before, not just with Harley, but with other women, too, and it’s something I’ve always enjoyed, although I appreciate it’s not to everyone’s taste. I particularly enjoy the mutual satisfaction that’s involved, but until I did it with Harley on our first night together, I hadn’t fully appreciated the mutual intimacy that comes out of it, too. I guess that’s one of the many things that’s different about her. Everything is so much more intimate… and so much more intense. Coming in her mouth is wild. Doing that while she’s coming on my tongue is crazy. It’s like a whole body orgasm, and it’s beyond anything I’ve ever experienced. Just the thought of it makes me hard and I shift in my seat, trying to calm down, recalling our conversation with Ben.

It was something that had to be done. I didn’t feel right keeping our relationship from him. As I said to Harley at the time, it went better than I’d hoped, and after I carried her into the bedroom, and we’d undressed, I held her in my arms for a while, the two of us just staring into each other’s eyes.

“Can you believe Ben knew how I felt about you all along?” she said, her hands wandering up and down my arms.

“No, and in a way, I’m glad he kept it to himself.”

“Why?”

“Because I think I needed to get here by myself,” I said, caressing her cheek with the backs of my fingers. “I’m not just talking about the romance of what happened on Saturday night – before the accident, obviously – but the entire journey. I know it hasn’t been an easy ride for you, babe, listening to my stories all the time, but I think it means so much more that we found our own way here.” She nodded her head in agreement,although I found her silence a little worrying, and pulled her closer, asking, “Does it bother you?”

“Does what bother me?”

“My past.”

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