Gray
“So, not that I mind, but why the fancy hotel?” Harlow asks over breakfast. We’re wrapped in soft terrycloth robes and enjoying room service. The morning light lends a blush to her cheeks and I can’t stop myself from taking mental pictures.
“I thought you’d like a change and I know you like surprises.”
She chuckles. “Well, a night at the swankiest hotel in Denver is definitely a surprise.”
“That's not the surprise,” I sip my coffee.
She cocks her head at me. “What is it, then?”
I just shake my head and smile.
She grins. “Oh, come on. Please?”
I’m loving this. I eat a forkful of strawberry waffle and shake my head.
“I'll do anything you want,” she pleads, leaning towards me.
“Yes, you will,” I tell her and watch as her décolletage flushes pink with desire. She’s tempting me, but I force myself to stay still. This surprise is good, and I don’t want to give it away too soon.
But Harlow’s resourceful. She pouts.
“I didn’t know we were doing anything special today, so I didn’t bring anything to wear, and you cut my clothes off me last night. What am I supposed to wear to this surprise?”
I grin.
“Check the closet.”
She shoots me a look.
“The hotel closet? Oh no, what did you do?”
I merely smile, and bring her inside before leading her to a huge walk-in. She gasps and then opens it up to find a full assortment of designer duds, all in her size and in dazzling colors. Harlow’s a beautiful girl but has confessed her friend Jane gives her clothing tips. This Jane person is great, but she’s no stylist, which is why I’m stepping in now.
Harlow gasps, “What did you do?”
I grin.
“I went on a bit of a spree. I hope you don’t think it was too presumptuous of me, but I want you to be completely comfortable being on my arm at all times, and I’ve noticed how you tend to fidget with your clothes when we’re out.”
“I do? But wait - you mean, this is all mine?”
I nod.
“Yep. All of it. The lingerie in the drawers, as well.”
She gasps wordlessly and she opens and shuts her mouth without sound a few times.
“Oh my god, Gray,” she whispers on a long exhale before pulling open a drawer and looking at all the lacy and silky things. “This is too much.”
I shake my head.
“No, it isn’t, sweetheart. I didn’t want to go overboard, but designer clothes won’t sit on your body correctly without the proper undergarments and I had to make certain you would be comfortable. If you don’t like them, I could send them all back, and get you new things?”
She clutches a pearl thong to her chest and giggles.
“Don’t you dare! I was just being polite!”
I laugh and stroll to her. I wrap her in my arms from behind, so I can press my half-hard self against her ass. Then I put my chin on her shoulder. “You like them?”
“I love them, but how did you know my size?”
I grin.
“Sweetheart, I’ve touched this body so many times already that I think I know all your sizes, down to the circumference of your little toe.” Of course, I don’t add that I know her ring-finger size as well. “I guessed, but I’m a good guesser when it comes to things like this.”
Harlow turns in my arms and kisses me. “Thank you for this, Gray.”
“Of course. You belong to me, and it’s my job to take care of you.”
Her lips part in a slight gasp and then she says, “Well, in that case, let me take care of you too.” She begins to kneel in front of me.
“As much as I would love that,” I say, gently raising her back up. “We have an engagement to keep.”
She blinks.
“We do?”
“Yes, it’s your other surprise.”
She laughs.
“You don’t need to keep surprising me, Gray.”
“But I want to,” I smile.
“But if I don’t know where we are going, then how can I pick the right item to wear?” she smirks.
“Clever girl.” I have to give it to her. That was slick. “Pick something you would wear to a nice restaurant.”
“Fine,” she shoots me a devilish look, but then smiles. God, she’s so cute. She picks a dress with a snug skirt that hugs her hips and struggles into it. I could watch her wiggle into that thing all day long. She turns and shoots me a sweet smile.
“Zip me up?”
I nod and zip it halfway before lifting her long dark curls and kissing the bare skin at the nape of her neck. Then I zip it all the way up. “Ready?”
She nods, “As I’ll ever be.”
“Oh, one more thing,” I say, pulling a jewelry box from my drawer. It’s large and could never be mistaken for an engagement ring, but she gasps anyways, her eyes round.
“What’s that?”
“I never see you in jewelry,” I ask. “I want to know why.”
She smiles.
“Truthfully, I’ve always associated jewelry with my mom Catherine, and the way she and her friends overly decorate themselves. I like it, but she always wears these huge pieces that are so gaudy. I never want to be like that.”
I open the box and inside is a simple pearl necklace. “So, something not ostentatious, but still quite pretty?”
She gasps. “Oh, Gray. It’s gorgeous!”
“Let me put it on you.”
She nods as I lovingly wrap the necklace around her delicate throat. The pearls sit perfectly above her cleavage and gleam in the low lights, their luster incredible.
“Now, we’re ready.” I offer her my arm and she slips her hand into the crook of my elbow as if she belongs there. We go down to the first floor and I guide her to the hotel’s exhibit area off to one side.
She sees the signs and her voice becomes giddy. “You’re kidding me!”
“I thought you might like it, sweetheart.”
She throws me a dazzling smile and then darts ahead, her joy unbounded. I can’t help but chuckle. I watch as she waltzes from painting to painting, her eyes studying every line and color. Finally, she remembers I exist, and comes back to Earth. “Nadine Figueroa is a world-renowned watercolor artist. Why would she come to Denver though?”
I chuck her under the chin.
“Well, we’re not exactly small potatoes, Harlow. Denver’s a big enough city.” Part of me wants to tell her I paid and arranged for the exhibit to come to the hotel, but I prefer to watch her simply enjoy it all. There’s no need to take credit for everything.
“Which one should I start with?” she begins before directing me to a particularly magnificent painting of a peacock reaching its head into a tree. She tells me of the significance of each brushstroke, how each curve represents something. I try to pay attention, but it’s hard to keep my eyes off the beautiful girl “And see this, right here?” she asks.
“Mm-hmm?”
“Her line work explores the concept of representation without clarified meaning, letting the viewer decide what the painting means. She’s a true artist in full command of the medium,” Harlow sighs.
I nod. “It’s as if the artist is exploring the impermanence of life.”
Harlow blinks at me. “That’s very astute.”
“Thank you…?”
“I don’t mean to sound condescending, Gray, but I didn’t know you were familiar with this artist’s work.”
“There’s a lot about me you don’t know,” I wink.
She nods and smiles mysteriously. “There really is.”
I’m still wrapped around Harlow come morning. We went back to my mansion after the exhibit and she showed her gratitude several times. Harlow’s definitely one of a kind, from her genuine love and appreciation for fine art, to the filthy woman she becomes between the sheets. My feelings have gone from temporary infatuation to a deep-seated need for the curvy girl.
Yet, there was something different about our love-making last night. It started out naughty, and she let me use her body like a rag doll, urging me to fill each and every hole. Yet, in the middle of things, she changed. Her eyes stared into my soul as we came together, and it wasn’t just fun-and-games sex. It was sweet, delicious love.
Shit. What am I doing? I’ve been trying to convince myself that this is just a summer fling. An illicit, naughty one, but nothing more. It’s going to end when she goes back to Colorado State in the fall. She’s just something to keep me busy, and I want to make her summer enjoyable too.
Yet now, I’m not sure I can let her go. The things that Harlow’s willing to do…hell, her blowjob skills alone are fucking amazing. That, and the way she says my name when she comes.
Damnit. The curvy girl makes me feel like a young man and I don’t want to let this feeling go. Hell, I haven’t taken a real vacation in years, but our interlude feels like one big holiday. I need to do more to enjoy my life. I’ve earned it, after all.
Once more, I turn to look at the sleeping girl. She’s gorgeous, but her sweet snores tend to become as loud as a lumberjack when she’s been well and thoroughly fucked. Right now, she’s snoring like a bear in the middle of hibernation, and I grin. I lace my fingers with hers and Harlow snorts a bit, and then makes a happy soft sigh in her sleep. It’s adorable. I want to keep her here forever. I want her to grow round with my baby. I need to make her mine.
But as I squeeze her hand, she comes awake with a start.
“Shit!” she squeals before bolting upright. “I have to go!”
Before I can even say anything, she’s on her feet and looking for her things. Then, I hear her hit something and tumble over. “Son of a bitch!”
“On!” I demand, and the lights come on from my voice-controlled automation system. I’m on my knees beside her in a flash, “Are you alright, Harlow? What’s wrong?”
Her face burns red, and she sighs.
“I’m fine, just a klutz in the dark. Can you help me find my things? I have to get home, or my dad will freak out when I’m not there.”
“He won’t-
She gives me a hard look.
“Gray, I have to get home NOW!”
I laugh, “No, you don’t. Calm down. Gray’s on a trip and it’s 4 a.m. There’s no need to head home right now.”
She blinks, looking stunned.
“Are you sure?”
I point to the clock with its red unblinking numbers.
“No one will be up right now, least of all Brent. You have nothing to worry about. Let me make you breakfast, sweetheart.”
She shakes her head ruefully.
“I swear, I had this dream that my dad found out about us, and he was going to wring my neck, and then wring yours.”
I laugh.
“I’m pretty sure I could take Brent.”
She sighs, and then lets out an exasperated laugh.
“Can we please not see who has the bigger ego right now? But okay, breakfast. Are you sure that wouldn’t put you out? It’s really early still.”
I kiss her and say, “It would be my pleasure, sweetheart. And just so you know, I have a bigger dick than your dad. Come on.” I help her to her feet and take her hand as she snorts. “Follow me.”
Harlow makes a face.
“Please, no more talk about my dad’s anatomy. Eew.” But then the sassy girl smiles and lets me lead her to my kitchen downstairs, sitting at the counter before shooting me a dreamy look.
I ask, “What’s on your mind?”
She laughs nervously, “Oh, um, nothing.”
“You’re pretty when you lie, Harlow,” I smirk and go back to the waffle iron. “Must get you out of a lot of trouble.”
She laughs. “I guess so, although I’ve never really been in trouble.”
“I knew it! You’re such a good girl, sweetcakes.”
She clears her throat and I notice she has a flush on her chest again. She likes hearing me use endearments, so I’ll have to do it more often. But Harlow doesn’t tell me what’s up. Instead, she asks, “So, where did you learn to make waffles? Was your mom much of a cook?”
I shake my head.
“Not really. I did a lot of the cooking when I was a kid because my mom was a single mom. Meredith worked all the time, and she would come home hungry, so I always tried to make sure she had a hot meal when she stepped in the door.”
She smiles softly. “That’s so sweet.”
“Well, it was just the two of us for a really long time, so we had to watch out for each other.”
“Are you still close?”
I shook my head. “My mom passed on, around fifteen years ago.”
She cocks her head.
“I think I remember, but my dad didn’t say much. What happened?”
I grimace.
“Yeah, it’s kind of a sad story, so I’m not surprised Brent didn’t tell you. It was a car accident. It happened in an instant.”
She looks down at her hands.
“I’m so sorry to bring up these sad memories, Gray.”
“Well,” I say, beginning to plate the waffles, “you didn’t know. I’m okay to talk about it, too. Hell, at least it was fast.”
She nods, “I guess so.”
“One thing I learned though is that you can’t put off the things you want to do. If you see something you want, then you have to go for it. You never know when you might get another chance.”
She swallows hard. “That’s true.”
“Whipped cream, sweetheart?” I ask, brandishing the can.
“If you want…”
I grin because now, Harlow definitely has sex on her mind. We had some fun with ice cream, sprinkles and whipped cream about a month ago, and it’s one of my sweetest memories to date.
“Honey, get your mind out of the gutter. Whipped cream for your waffles?”
Her face lights pink again. “Oh. That. Sure.”
I tease her again “Why, what did you think I meant?”
“I don’t know about you, but I was talking about my waffles,” she says innocently. “Why, what did you mean?”
I merely chuckle and lean over to drop a kiss on her nose.
“You’re a very pretty liar, sweetheart. But trust me, I know all your tricks.”
She merely sticks her tongue out at me, and then digs into her breakfast. I watch, satisfied. How did I get so lucky? I have a curvy girl that’s playful, fun, intelligent, and also filthy in bed. I’d love to keep her, but will she be mine?