Page 103 of In Love with Lewis Prescott
“Ourplace,” she corrects before raising her left hand and wagging her ring finger at me. The antique cushion-cut diamond I picked out as her engagement ring months ago sparkles even in the low light. “We’re married. What’s mine is yours, what’s yours is mine. Remember?”
I glance down at my own hand, at the silver band shining on my ring finger, before I look at her once more. “Of course. How could I forget?”
We’re three months into being husband and wife, but it still feels just like yesterday that I married the woman of my dreams. This past year has been a whirlwind, what with getting married, filming a movie, Harper settling into her new job, and the two of us shuffling between the Nob Hill apartment and the house in Half Moon Bay. But I wouldn’t want it any other way. I’m sharing a life with the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. I never knew life could feel this amazing.
Harper’s stunning, saucerlike eyes drift down to my naked lower half.
Her deep brown stare turns hungry as she reaches down and palms my now rock-hard cock. The second she bites her lip, I know we’re gonna be even more late. But I don’t care.
I reach down and hoist her up around my waist, then pull her down for a kiss.
“We’re...gonna...be...so...late,” she rasps against my lips between kisses.
“Don’t care. I need you now.”
I walk us to the bed, then drop her onto the mattress, which makes her giggle.
I peer down at her. “Besides. What I have planned won’t take long.”
Smiling, she quirks her eyebrow and lies back as I press my palm against her stomach. I settle onto my knees between her legs.
“But...this is your big night,” she rasps while I press light kisses to the inside of her thighs. “I don’t want to—oh my god!”
It doesn’t take long before she’s shuddering and screaming. Not even two minutes. When I finish, I hop back up on my feet and glance down at my wife, flushed and panting and beaming up at me.
“What about you?” she asks, eyeing me between my legs.
I wink at her. “I can wait till later. We’ve got a premiere to head to.”
Harper holds my hand tight in hers as I make my way to the press line at the Castro Theatre in San Francisco. I’m still not used to maneuvering my tall self around our tiny Nob Hill apartment, even though that’s where we lived while I filmed in San Francisco the past year. But one thing I love about it is how it’s in the perfect location. It was a straight shot to here along Market Street, which meant that even with our little tryst, we were only fifteen minutes late tonight.
I shuffle my feet against the plush red carpet that leads to the steps of the iconic theater where my production company’s very first movie will be playing in a matter of minutes. My stomach flips for the millionth time since we arrived. I honestly can’t believe this is happening. It’s the premiere for my dream project, the coming-of-age indie movie I thought I’d never be part of. But it happened, and filming it was the most enjoyable and fulfilling work I’ve ever done. Early reviews have been glowing, which is blowing my mind. Who would have thought that me, the guy who was for years typecast as the hot bimbo or the sexy bad boy, would get rave reviews for playing the troubled side character in an indie project?
If I think too hard or too long about it, my brain feels like it’s going to break—in a good way. For so long I’ve dreamed of this, of doing work I’m passionate about. And now I’m doing exactly that.
“Hey.” Harper tugs gently on my hand. “How are you holding up, superstar?”
I glance down at her, mesmerized. She’s wearing a red gown that looks like it was plastered to her body. I can barely take my eyes off her—she’s beyond stunning.
I let out a breath. “Pretty damn good. Just...this is all so unbelievable.”
I tug at the sleeve of my tux, a sorry attempt to quell my nerves.
Harper stops me just before I walk up to the first reporter in the press line. “Just take it all in for a sec.”
It’s like she can read my mind. God, this woman. Absolutely incredible in every way.
I do what she says. I gaze up at the multistory pearl-hued exterior of the theater, taking in how it pops against the darkness of the nighttime sky. I glance at the dozens of photographers snapping photos of my cast mates as they make their way inside.
And then I turn around to wave at the crowd of a few thousand fans on the opposite side of Market Street, which is shut down for the premiere. The deafening cheers and screams make me grin so wide, my face aches.
“Told you your fans would love you in any role.” Harper winks at me, and it feels like fireworks going off in my chest. “And they’re loving your calendar.”
I smile, thinking about how I just finished signing autographs and taking photos with the crowd. Most of the items I signed were copies of the nude calendar I released a few months ago. Harper was right, that was a brilliant idea. It’s earned two million dollars so far, all for charity.
I pull her to me, then lean down and kiss her so long, the crowd goes wild once more.
When she pulls away, she smacks me lightly on the arm. “We’re in public,” she says through a flustered smile. The way her tan skin flushes as she darts her gaze around us is the most adorable thing ever.
