Page 28 of Love Harvested on Thanksgiving
My legs shake under my weight, sweat collects on my brow, and my breath comes in gasps.
I almost can’t take his powerful thrusts anymore, and he finally pulls out, shooting his hot sticky cum all over my ass.
After he wipes me clean, we both collapse onto the sleeping bags. I lay my head on his chest, his heart radically beating under my cheek.
I could stay like this forever—in this snow-globe with Finley, safe and warm, while the storm rages outside.
I lose myself in the rhythm of his heart until sleep drifts over me, and the darkness gently pulls me under.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
FINLEY
When I wake the first thing I notice is the weight pressed against my chest. Alex is tucked into me, her body pressed close, my arm draped around her.
Freckles are dusted across her cheeks like stars in the night sky, and her dark lashes fan over her skin. She looks like an angel, so delicate and peaceful.
I shift a little, careful not to wake her and glance at my watch. 8 a.m. Damn. What time does the store open? Nine?
She stirs then, her body shifts against mine, and her eyes flutter open. She looks at me for a moment, a little dazed andsleepy.
“Good morning, pretty baby,” I whisper, my voice rough from sleep.
She grins, slow and soft, those perfect dimples forming on her cheeks. God, that smile. I swear the sun wouldn’t rise without it.
She sits up, rubbing her eyes, her voice soft and raspy with sleep. “Coffee.” She mumbles.
I chuckle. “You read my mind.”
She smiles faintly, still half asleep, and gets up to gather her clothes. I sit up, watching her for a moment before getting up. I’m still in disbelief. Alex Rhodes. Naked. In my arms.
Once I’m dressed, I start picking up the sleeping bags and clearing the snack mess from last night.
Alex slips out toward the little café corner to make us coffee, and I finish tidying up. “Where should I put these sleeping bags?” I ask holding the bundle up.
She looks up, “I’ll store them in the office.”
I nod, then head toward the doors to check outside. The snow’s stopped, sunlight spilling across the road, reflecting off the thin layer of ice that clings to the ground.
“It looks much better out there,” I say as she returns, two steaming cups in her hands. “The sun’s out. Might even melt by tomorrow.”
“Good, we have a contest to win this weekend.” She winks, handing me the cup.
The phone at customer service rings. She walks over and picks it up. “Thank you for calling Oak & Rye—how can I help you?”
Her shoulders relax; her tone softens into something more casual. She glances toward the doors. “We’ll open at ten today. See you soon. Okay, bye.” She hangs up.
She glances at the computer screen on the desk. “Looks like the power came back on sometime overnight.”
“I guess you need to go home and get ready for the day,” I say. I pause, then add, “Or… do you want to take the day off? Maybe grab some lunch, find something fun to do?”
She looks at me like I’ve just said something crazy. “Like…withyou?”
I laugh. “Yes,withme.”
Her eyes scan the store, weighing the idea, before they flick back to me. Then a smile tugs at her lips. “Sure.”
She pulls out her phone, taps at it a few times, then slips it back into her pocket.
