Page 88 of The Painter and His Poet

Harlow stirs, pushing up onto her elbows, her hair mussed up and her cheeks flush as she gives me a heavy lidded smile. “That was–” she begins, but I cut her off as I grasp her hips in my palms and tug her towards me, lifting her off the piano and into my arms.

“Just the beginning,” I finish for her, as she instinctively wraps her legs around my waist and I take one step back, dropping my arse to the stool. Her slick pussy slips down my chest, warmth seeping through my shirt from her wet heat.

“Sterling,” she gasps, still sensitive, the friction making her judder.

“We’re not done,” I say, cupping her arse cheeks, keeping her core just above my bobbing cock as she looks down at me with a heady lust that has my balls tingling. “I’m going to fuck you now–”

Somewhere in the house a door slams.

Harlow stiffens, her head snapping towards the door. “Oh my God, Sterling. Who’s that?” she gasps.

“Hello, Harlow are you here?”

“Is that…?” Harlow’s face pales, her eyes widening. “It’s mymother. Why is she here?”

The sound of heels clicking against the marble floor has Harlow scrambling off my lap. “No, no, no, no!” she hisses, frantically reaching for her clothes.

“Stay here. Get dressed, I’ll head her off,” I bite out, gathering my trousers and pulling them on. I quickly zip myself up, then snatch up my boxer shorts, shoving them into my pocket as I stride towards the door. Flicking my gaze over my shoulder I briefly watch as Harlow pulls on her clothes with shaky hands. Our gazes meet briefly, and hers are wide with terror.

“Fuck,” I mutter, knowing that whatever plans I had have well and truly been thwarted.

For tonight at least.

TWENTY-FOUR

HARLOW

“Mom, Robert, why are you back so early? We weren’t expecting you home until next week,” I say, stepping into the living room, avoiding Sterling’s gaze altogether as I greet my mother with a kiss to her cheek before stepping back. I reach for my hair, tucking the wayward strands behind my ear, praying that I don’t look like I’ve just had the best orgasm of my life.

“If you’d bothered to listen to the messages I left you, you’d know that a storm was about to hit our resort so we decided to come home a little earlier,” she snaps back as I flick my gaze to Robert who gives me a tight smile. Fuck, he looks pissed-off.

“Oh… I’m sorry. I was meaning to call you back but I’ve been a little busy.”

“Too busy to take your mother’s calls?” she retorts, folding her arms across her chest and scowling at me. “It could’ve been an emergency, Harlow! If we’d stayed it most certainly would’ve been!”

“It’s my fault. I’ve been showing Harlow around Princetown,” Sterling interjects, unruffled by the lie that slips off his tongue with ease.

How can he be so calm? It was only moments ago that he had his head between my legs. If we hadn’t heard them… God, I can’t even think about what could’ve happened.

“Is that so?” Robert asks, looking between us, an unreadable expression on his face before he turns his attention back to Sterling. “Did you take Harlow to the engagement party too?”

“No. I didn’t go,” I say, shaking my head.

“I see,” Robert replies, and I can’t tell whether he’s happy about that or not.

“I didn’t feel up for it, headache,” I mumble.

“You could’ve made an effort and shown your face,” my mother says with a huff. “What will people think? That’s terribly rude, Harlow.”

“How can it be rude not attending an engagement party that I wasn’t even invited to?” I retort, anger unfurling in my chest.

“Of course you were invited,” Robert says, glaring at Sterling as though it’s his fault.

“No,” I shake my head, hating that he assumes Sterling is at fault. “Mom called me a few nights ago to tell me all about Daisy and Dalton’s engagement party and wedding, and the fact that I hadn’t been invited.”

Robert scowls. “Melody, is this true?”

My mother visibly blanches. “Harlow must have misunderstood. That isn’t what I said at all.”

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