“Fuck, Harper.” He pressed me against the tile and I nodded when he paused to look at me, giving him permission to take me with everything he had. I gasped when he filled me. No hesitation, no inching in to give me time to adjust, he went in full force only pausing for a moment when he was fully inside me until I relaxed.

I was so content I wanted to cry. This was it. There would never be anyone else I’d ever want to feel this close to or this powerful connection with.

He was it.

“I love you,” I whispered, knowing the timing was less than ideal.

He pulled back and held the back of my head with one hand, grinning at me so intriguingly.

“I know you already know, but I just wanted to tell you.”

He pushed into me again. “What other secrets can I get by driving into you?”

I bit my lip. “Only one way to find out.”

“Did you quit your job because of what I said to you in my office?” He stroked my damp hair across the pillow as we laid on the bed, talking. It must have been long past midnight. I’d told him about my time off work before I came down here. My plans to work freelance for now and he thought it was a brilliant idea but insisted one of his attorneys review my contract with Frankie.

I hummed. “What did you say to me in your office?”

“Never mind.”

I raised a coy brow at him.

“Because I was wrong, you know, serving coffee? It’s quite gratifying, I may never go back,” he joked.

“Everything is more gratifying when you’re in Paradise,” I pointed out.

He moved in on top of me. “Is that so? Because I remember your screams being louder back in my apartment.”

“What, you mean compared to the shower? I’ve seen more action from an eggplant,” I teased.

He laughed and rolled me over him pulling on his cock. “Show me again, how you check to make sure it’s ripe and ready.”

I covered my face laughing and shook my head as he continued to tease and torture me slowly until he had me begging for more, then finally proving that everything was in fact more gratifying in Paradise.

Epilogue

EPILOGUE

(Five years later)

“Alright. No, I understand. I hope you feel better. Thank you.” I hung up and released a breath.

“Harp,” I called from the living room. My wife just started getting ready minutes ago after I convinced her everything was going to be fine and she had nothing to worry about. What ended up being a twenty-minute argument I won—only for the babysitter to cancel.

“Come here buddy.” I lifted Sebastian off the playmat and whispered. “You want to go to high school reunion with mommy and daddy?”

My two-year-old gave me a dirty look and shook his head.