Page 114 of Wishing Hearts

With a smile, my gaze shifts to the treehouse, the structure looking like it grew right from the tree. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I think putting up that treehouse was the very start of me setting down roots. Yeah, I wanted Harrison on a baser level before then, and I was nearly desperate to see what we could become. I think I was more excited about him and all he had to offer than I was willing to let myself acknowledge. It was a feeling. That whisper of home.

But digging into the dirt with Harrison, seeing the way we worked together so effortlessly, the way Harrison so clearly desired me, too—it was the first time I thought I might truly get everything I wanted. For once in my life, maybe I had found the place I belonged. Maybe that man, that little girl, their dog, and their perfectly messy life…maybe they’d been waiting for me. I could be their dream come true. They were certainly mine.

I let out a sigh. I can’t see the stars this early in the day, of course, but I flit my thumb over my hip, right atop the constellation etched into my skin.

What do I wish for now when everything is already as it should be?

“Holy fudge! Did we really get a pig? Oh my God!”

Winnie races past—her ankle long since healed by now—and skids to a stop a few feet away. She pivots, collides into me with a quick hug and an enthusiastic screech that might have burst my eardrum, and then she’s off again, running toward where Piglet and Tigger are exploring in the bushes. She slows once she reaches them, waiting to make sure Piglet is comfortable, but then she’s petting the little pink pig with the biggest smile I’ve ever seen on her face.

“I think that worked better than cake,” Harrison jokes, taking a seat beside me.

I bump my shoulder into his. “Think so?”

He hums, eyes squinted against the sun as he watches Winnie, Tigger, and Piglet.

“And what about you?” I say, turning my head against his shoulder, nudging his neck with my nose. “What could I bribe you with?”

He swallows, pulse racing under my lips as I feather a kiss across his skin.

“Maybe you’d like to fuck me in that shed later,” I suggest whisper-soft, thrilling at Harrison’s sharp inhale. “You could pump me full of your cum and watch it drip back out while I finish myself off.”

“Jesus,” Harrison hisses.

“And then after you clean yourself off my skin, you can have the slice of chocolate cake I hid in the freezer.”

Harrison grabs my chin, kissing me hard. “You,” he says shortly, eyes on fire, “are the most perfect man for me.”

My grin is swift, a happiness I feel down to my toes.

“Angel of cake and cock, at your service,” I mumble against his lips.

Harrison laughs and then moans. There’s another kiss. A single bark. The sound of a child laughing and running around. And somewhere, way up high above us, the stars are twinkling, waiting for their moment to shine.

But down here on Earth, Harrison’s lips are curved against my own, and I know I’m home.

Chapter 31

Harrison

“Aw, fuck,” Sam groans, hanging his head. His hands scramble at the tool bench in front of him, fingers leaving tracks against the dusty surface. The smells and sounds of sex are strong in the small shed.

“Don’t come,” I choke out, sweat beading down my brow. “You promised I could watch.”

He grunts, his ass tightening around me, but he reaches down, staving off his release.

“C’mon, stud,” he groans out. “Any day now.”

I huff a laugh, forehead against Sam’s shoulder as I fuck him from behind. His ass fits me like a glove, and every inch of the man in front of me is a dream come true. I easily could have come by now, but I’ve been holding off.

“What if I want to take my time?” I say, groaning as Sam’s body squeezes me tight.

“Stud,” he warns.

I can’t help it; I laugh. Sliding my hands around to Sam’s chest, I tug him upright, molding my body to his as much as humanly possible as I lose myself in this man. In the smell of him, the feel, even the taste as my lips find that sweet spot below his ear. He’s my Sam. And there’s simply no resisting him.

My orgasm hits me hard once I stop fighting it, a full-body rush that starts in my fingers and barrels through the very heart of me. It goes on—Sam moaning all the while as I grind against his ass—until finally, I’m all but slumped over his body as tingling aftershocks race across my skin. I take a moment to simply breathe. To feel the way Sam and I are connected. Feel the wet warmth of my release inside his body. Feel his heartbeat racing steadily beneath my palm.

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