Saving Us (The Billionaire Brothers of NY Duology #1)

33. Harper

CHAPTER 33

Harper

T he beaches of New Jersey always got a bad rap. New Jersey in general didn’t get the love it deserved. But I would always be a fan of my home state. Not only were our beaches some of the most beautiful, but we had mountains and farmlands as well. And let’s not forget our proximity to two of the biggest cities in our country, New York and Philly. And D.C. and Boston weren’t that far.

We had everything going for us.

And now I was showing Gage our pristine Long Beach Island. However, my idea of using bikes for transportation was not well thought out considering our current disabilities. With my cast and his sling, walking was the only mode we had of getting around. Our first night we spent poolside and by the bar of the hotel. It was late when we got here, but not so late that we couldn’t enjoy the amenities this place had to offer.

Gage wasn’t in the room when I woke up, which I took as a good sign. There was a gym on-site, so I assumed he was using it. Or maybe out for a walk. He pushed himself to still use the gym even with his arm the way it was, and his doctor gave him the okay to do it if he was careful.

My plans for today were for us to go to the beach. As I was packing my bag with all the necessities, Gage walked in.

“Hi, babe,” he said, more chipper than he’s been.

Walking over to me, he handed me a takeout cup of tea and gave me a kiss.

“Let’s take our drinks to the balcony,” he said.

His breakthrough yesterday was heartbreaking, but important at the same time. Grief is a beast of horrific proportions. One day you might think you had it conquered, and the next it had you laid up in bed with a quart of ice cream.

Sitting on the cushioned chairs, we both looked out at the sun shining down on the Atlantic Ocean. It was another beautiful day. And it seemed as though it was going to be a hot one, too. Unfortunately, on this trip, we wouldn’t be able to go swimming in the ocean, which was a favorite of mine.

“What are you thinking about?” Gage asked.

“Oh, just some of the times I spent down here as a kid. We used to rent a bunch of different houses. I can show them to you.” Chancing a look at him, he appeared to be in a good mood still today. “We won’t be able to go in the ocean on this trip, though, with our …” Holding up my wrist and gesturing to his shoulder was all I needed to do.

We both hated talking about our injuries all the time.

“Next time,” he said.

Next time.

“Want to go for a walk on the beach?” he asked.

“I would love that. We might as well pack ourselves up to sit there for a while. The hotel has chairs and umbrellas out there we can use. Let’s get changed and head out,” I said.

He stood from his chair before I did and leaned over me the best he could. His mouth hovered over mine as I looked up into his eyes.

“I love you, Harper,” he said. Then his lips covered mine. It was a gentle kiss. But it was perfect.

And it was the first time he’d said it in days.

“I love you, too.”

The water was still cold—that happened in the Northeast. Many times, it wasn’t warm enough to jump right in until the end of summer. But as we strolled along the edge, our feet got used to the temperature as the waves rolled along our toes. The shells tumbled against our ankles with each crash of the water, and I kept my eye out for any sea glass that might appear.

“So, I saw Tommy this morning,” Gage said.

“Oh yeah? Did you guys meet for breakfast or something?”

Gage kept my hand in his but pulled me to stop walking, spinning me to face him.

“No, not quite. I, uh, needed a ride. He took me to a car dealership on the mainland,” he said.

That was the furthest thing from what I was expecting to come from his mouth.

“Okay,” I responded, a bit confused.

“I’m not going crazy, I promise,” he said, then laughed. “I needed a car, because…” And he struggled with finishing his thought. “The Shelby is a great car, but she’s not safe. Not safe enough. And even though we were in a Range Rover, they are very highly rated. If he only had kept his…”

Squeezing his hand, I hoped he understood he didn’t need to finish his sentence.

“Well, um, they have a Land Rover dealer in town, and I thought that getting a Range Rover would be a smart investment in us. Our future, and our safety.”

If it weren’t Gage Parker making a spur-of-the-moment purchase like that, I’d say he was crazy.

But he could afford it.

And this was part of his healing process.

“I think that’s a smart idea,” I told him.

He pulled me against him. It was one of my favorite places to be, against his bare chest. His scent surrounding me. With it mixing with the salty ocean air, I was in heaven.

“Yeah?” he asked. “You don’t think it’s impulsive?”

Shaking my head, I looked up at him. “No, not at all. Just not sure how we’re getting it home.”

His confident smile looked so much like his old self.

“One step ahead of you. Already arranged to pay Tommy’s cousin to drive it back for us.”

Smiling, I turned us around, pulling him along the surf. “Let’s head back to our chairs. I’d like to read for a bit.”

As we walked, he was looking at the monstrous houses lining the dunes. Needless to say, many of them had changed since I’d been here over fifteen years prior.

“Ever stay in one of these, right on the beach?” he asked.

“Oh, God no. We could never afford beachfront. Even back then, when they were still small cottages, we could only afford to stay like two blocks from the beach.” Every year, we would rent a different house. My dad always thought we would find a better one that way. “There was one year we rented with my cousins’ family, so we needed a bigger house. It was on the bay. That was fun. Being right on the water, jumping off the dock to go swimming. We fished, crabbed, we even took out this little boat that had oars.”

Gage laughed at my last memory.

“You mean a canoe?”

“No!” I yelled at him. “I know the difference between a canoe and a boat. It was a small boat, like four of us could fit, but it didn’t have a motor, a literal rowboat. We found it behind the house. I don’t think we were supposed to use it, but my dad and uncle put it in the bay, and we all hoped it wouldn’t sink.”

So many memories of us being here flooded my mind. And in all of them, my mom, dad, and I were happy and smiling. In every single one of them. It was truly a magical place.

We reached the hotel, plodding up the beach toward our chairs.

“Want to grab a drink at the bar before you start reading?” Gage asked.

Letting him guide what we were doing seemed to be working. He was loosening up and acting so much more like himself.

“Sure.”

As we sat, the bartender placed menus and coasters down. “What can I get you?”

“I’ll have something fruity and frozen,” I said. The club didn’t sell frozen drinks, so I didn’t get them often. Besides, they’re a “vacation-y” drink.

He laughed then offered, “Well, there’s a frozen margarita, pi?a colada or a watermelon daiquiri.”

They all sounded amazing, but I stuck with my standby.

“Pi?a colada, please.”

His smile moved onto Gage. “And you, sir?”

Gage inspected the menu, then looked at the bottles on the bar ahead of us. “What bourbon do you have?”

“Old Forrester, Woodford, and I have a special reserve of Maker’s Mark,” he answered.

“Maker’s, neat please,” Gage replied.

As I looked over the menu, I realized I wasn’t hungry. Passing it on to Gage to see if he wanted anything, I spun in my seat to grab the view behind me. The bar itself was situated high enough on the property that the coastline was visible over the dunes. Sitting here, watching and listening to the waves crash with the soundtrack of the other island sounds mingling with it, made me long to spend more time here.

Our drinks were on the bar in front of us by the time I turned back around. As I picked mine up, I noticed Gage staring at me, smiling. Smiling back, I propped my elbow on the bar, my chin balanced in my palm.

“What are you smiling at, Mr. Parker?”

He took a sip of his drink before answering. “You,” he said. “It’s always you.”

Movement behind the bar caught our attention, and we watched the bartender stand up on a stool to change the channel on the TV. Suddenly, the Phillies game got changed out for the Yankee game and several of the patrons cheered heartily.

And my heart sank.

Glancing to my right, nervous to know what I’d find, Gage was staring at his empty glass of bourbon. His hand wrapped around the tulip-shaped glass, knuckles white, as he gripped it so tight, I thought it might shatter. My hand went to his shoulder, but he shrugged it away. His eyes bounced around, looking everywhere but at the screen, or me.

“I can’t do this right now,” he grumbled, pushing away from the bar. As he did, his stool went flying to the ground behind him, attention being drawn to both of us. He stood stock still, hands fisted at his side, eyes fixated on the ground.

I struggled with deciding how to help him.

But then realized I couldn’t. This was a battle he needed to fight.

His hand flew to his hair as he threw his head back in anger. Or frustration. Maybe both. Then he turned and walked away.

Grabbing the top of the fallen chair, I lifted it up as a server came to help me.

“Everything okay, hon?”

Scanning the bar area, no one else was still watching. The show was over. But the sweet girl next to me looked concerned.

“Yeah, he’s just dealing with something,” I told her.

Her slow nod as she stared me down told me she wasn’t a believer. Especially once she saw my cast. Although she didn’t deserve an explanation, I felt compelled to prove Gage was a good guy to this complete stranger.

“He lost his best friend recently,” I said. Then, looking at the screen and gesturing to it with my shoulder, I added, “Watching them play was their thing.”

This time, her slow nod was full of understanding as the sympathy rolled across her face. As she walked away, I was left standing alone, wondering what my next move should be.

Do I look for him?

Or leave him be?

He may have been fooled into thinking his grief had gone away. But it never goes away, especially not this early. It will subside with time. But then the pain gets packed into a remote section of our brains, and it pops out randomly, usually at the most inopportune moments.

For the rest of your life.

Strolling through the lobby toward the elevator, I decided to head up to our room. But as the doors slid open, soft caramel-brown eyes stared back at me.

“Hey,” he said, the lilt to his voice full of apology. “You didn’t deserve that.” His hand reached out for mine, and I took it. He pulled me into the elevator just as the doors closed. “Let’s go upstairs.”

With his back against the wall and his legs spread wide, he pulled me against him. As his arm wrapped around my waist, I dropped my bag to the floor. It had only been a few weeks, but it felt like months since we’d been in each other’s arms, felt each other’s skin.

His mouth covered mine with a lingering kiss. His hold on me was strong, fierce even, as his hand dug into my hips, my ass. I felt the desperation in every move he made.

But as we stepped off the elevator, I saw the glint in his eye.

It wasn’t desperation.

It was one hundred percent desire.

As he opened our door, he peered back at me, his sly smile a dead giveaway.

“Sorry, but we won’t be heading back to the beach today,” he said. “You okay with that?”

Kicking the door closed with my foot, I lifted the thin material of my cover-up over my head and threw it to the floor. Standing in front of him in my bikini, I felt the bumps rise on my skin as his eyes devoured me from top to bottom.

The hungry look of a starving man.

As I lifted my hand to the string behind my neck, the veins bulged in his forearms from the fists he made to refrain from reaching out. I pulled the string, painfully slow, and watched his eyes waiting for the triangles of material to reveal his prize.

The bits of fabric fell against my belly, my breasts on display.

Gage licked his lips as he sauntered the two steps it took for him to scoop me up in his one good arm. His mouth latched onto my nipple as he walked us across the room and dropped me onto the bed.

“Look at you,” he said, as he knelt over me, his legs on either side of mine. His elbows came down to the bed, his arm caging my head. “I’ve missed you, Harper Wilson. I’ve missed you, and us and…” His eyes gestured to my body in its entirety. “This,” he said. “I’ve missed this body of yours, feeling it against mine.”

And I couldn’t say I didn’t feel the same. My God, I missed him. And us.

His mouth found its way to that tender spot behind my ear that made my toes curl with every swipe of his tongue. How his lips on that part of me could make me heat with desire amazed me.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

It coaxed a moan from me so easily.

“I like the taste of the salty air on your skin,” he whispered. “I think it might make other parts taste pretty good, too.” Standing at the foot of the bed, he gripped the bottoms of my suit and pulled them to my feet, dropping them to the floor. Then, a hand reached behind me and with a pull, slipped open the knot holding up the top.

But then he walked away, to the dresser behind him. Rummaging in a drawer, he pulled something out that I couldn’t see.

“You trust me, Harper?” he asked.

“Of course I do.”

Walking around to the side of the bed, he propped the pillows in the center.

“Slide up here, baby,” he said.

And that was when I saw the neckties on his nightstand. My pulse quickened as he picked one up and turned toward me with it twisting in his hands.

“I think I’m long overdue with this one, don’t you?” he asked as he knelt alongside me. “I’m going to cover your eyes, Harper, then, as long as you’re good with it, I’m going to tie your wrists to the bed.”

His words made my body tingle. Tingle and warm in areas that I wanted him to do things to.

“Shit,” I heard him mumble. “I actually can’t tie these myself.”

Realizing his struggle, I took the tie from him and covered my own eyes with it, tying it around my head.

And everything went black.

“If I loop these ahead of time, I’ll be able to tie up your wrists,” he said.

I loved that he wasn’t getting frustrated.

He was gentle with my cast as he lifted it over my head.

“May I?” he asked.

Nodding, he carefully wrapped a tie around the plaster of the cast and chose to put that arm on the bed instead of high against the headboard. “This will be better,” he said.

Realizing I wouldn’t be able to touch or see him, I was torn about how that made me feel.

But the burning between my legs won out.

The silk slid around the other wrist, and he straddled me as he spread my arms wide, securing the tie to the wooden post behind me. Tugging on them, he determined they were tight. His fingers went to the insides of my one arm, trailing down, the sensation intense not knowing his next move. But then he stopped.

And swung a leg over me.

The bed lifted, and that was the only way I knew he got up. My remaining sense was heightened as I listened for every move he made. The Velcro on his suit ripping open was loud in the quiet room, and I knew he was now naked, somewhere, watching me.

“Are you comfortable, Harper?”

His words caused a sharp intake of breath, but I now knew he was at the foot of the bed.

“I am,” I replied.

Suddenly, his hand was on my lower leg, lifting one at a time, shifting them, as he rubbed the muscles of my calves. His strong fingers dug deep into my muscles as I could feel him crawling up the bed, getting closer to me. Every inch he moved closer to me, his hand moved further up my thigh.

Finally, he was settled between me, on his knees, as far as he could go. His one hand gripped the outside of my hip as his body opened my legs wide for him.

“You are so fucking amazing to look at Harper,” he said. “Every inch of you is beautiful.”

As he said that, a hand slid around between my legs, hitting my core, his thumb rubbing along me from top to bottom. When his thumb slid down again, he dipped inside me.

“God, you’re so wet already.”

He took that slickness and rubbed it along my pussy, up to my clit. His finger lingered, rubbing slow circles on the hard bundle of nerves, my legs squirming from the intense sensations.

“Do I need to tie your ankles next time?” The sultry threat was followed by his elbows holding down my knees, forcing my legs to stay open for him. “That’s it,” he purred.

I could feel him working to change his position while keeping my knees pinned down.

“Do we think the salty air reached your pussy, Harper?”

Tiny puffs of air blew against me as he spoke. His mouth was so close to my opening, I wanted to lunge forward and force his mouth to taste me. My hands pulled on their restraints, the urge to grab his head and shove him between my legs strong.

But he had every part of my body restricted.

I couldn’t move.

And I was never so turned on.

“Your pussy is glistening,” he said.

And I knew it had it be, I could feel it.

“It’s wet for you,” I told him. “Only for you, Gage.”

And he liked that.

His hum of approval was felt against my skin just as a finger plunged deep inside me. His mouth covered my clit, sucking it between his lips. As he pulled it in deep, my ass lifted off the bed, the intensity almost too much to handle. Using his good shoulder, however, he pushed me flat, forcing me to not move. His finger continued moving in and out of me steadily, the tension already starting to coil within.

Then he released my clit from his lips, allowing his tongue to take over. Circling and flicking it back and forth, my legs flailed under his hold. The clenching of every muscle in my body consumed my thoughts as the wave of orgasm started deep in my core.

The inability to touch myself in any way, the frustration it created, heightened the intense pleasure soaring through my body. My nipples ached to be touched, tortured, by his hands. They were hard, I knew that without seeing them. My hands pulled at their restraints as my need to pull on them increased.

And then he stopped moving. Stopped doing anything to me.

“You’re getting close, aren’t you, baby?” he hummed against me. His words made my legs tremble. “I like bringing you to the edge.”

“Fuck, Gage,” I begged. “Please don’t stop.”

He licked the inside of my thigh. But it wasn’t enough, and I pushed my core toward his mouth.

“You want to come on my mouth, Harper? You want me to taste you?”

A simple moan from me was my only answer, and he drove multiple fingers deep inside my pussy.

My thoughts became incoherent. Nothing made sense inside my own head.

And then his mouth landed on me again. The pull it had as he sucked on my clit, a soft but steady suck as it went deeper and deeper into his mouth, toed the line between pleasure and pain.

That line he played with oh-so-well.

The moan bellowed from within me as the orgasm gained momentum.

The feel of his body against my inner thighs, his mouth on my clit, his fingers plunging into me; I was so acutely aware of every inch of him touching me, desperate to feel what I couldn’t see or touch.

“Gage!”

He knew I was coming.

And what I loved best was his ability to read my body. He didn’t increase his pace, his intensity.

Steady.

He kept it steady, allowing it to build. It was climbing in me, fast and hard. I struggled to keep my legs flat under him as my toes curled.

My muscles stiffened as the peak hit. The tiniest sounds of pleasure came from my open mouth, almost struck speechless. I was erupting from the inside out, my entire body felt as though it was about to burst into flames.

The wave washed over me, the orgasm taking hold of my body. My hands pulled on their restraints, needing to grip something as it tore through me. Settling for the silk of the tie, I pulled it in my one good hand, gripping it tight, as the convulsions began to slow.

I came down from the high, my body relaxing under his grip.

His fingers slowed but didn’t retreat right away. Eventually, he slipped them from me, rubbing my wetness along my pussy.

His mouth resorted to peppering me with kisses, the nerve endings on fire everywhere his lips touched me.

“That was amazing,” he said. “Amazing to watch you come apart in my hands.”

The shifting of the mattress under me was my clue he was moving around. The casted arm was released first, and he placed warm kisses on the exposed fingers. “Does your wrist feel alright?”

“Hmm,” I cooed, still unable to form words.

His hands went to my other wrist, falling from the bedframe like a stone. As he removed the tie from my eyes, his were there, staring back at me. The soft lines around the outsides indicated a smile I couldn’t quite see on his face.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he whispered along my cheek. “But fair warning, this second half won’t last. It’s been too long.”

And he laughed.

And I realized I’d missed that sound. All of this, I’d missed all of this, so much.

“I don’t care,” I told him. “I just want to feel you inside me.”

With his one good hand, he pulled me over and on top of him.

“Fuck, Harper, saying things like that is making it worse. I won’t last ten seconds.”

Straddling him, his hard cock coming up between my legs, I reached down and gently rubbed the head with my thumb. He rolled his head back into the pillow as he groaned out loud. The droplet of precum glistened in the waning sunlight, and I skimmed it from the tip of his dick. His eyes jerked toward my movement, growing wide, as my finger made its way to my lips.

Slowly licking my finger, I swirled it around in my mouth, sucking on it once the taste was long gone. My first indication of how much he enjoyed the show was watching the slow swallow along his muscular neck. The way he grabbed me by my hips and rubbed his dick against my pussy was the second.

“First warning, Harper. Get me inside you, now.” He reached down, trying to move me while gripping his cock in his hand.

But I wouldn’t let him. I was stronger than I looked, especially with the advantage of being on top and him only having one arm.

Using my good hand, I pinned his to the bed.

On bent arms, I lowered my face to his, our lips about to touch. But I hovered above him, and an amused smile slid across his face.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he asked.

My equally smug smile matched his.

But then he surprised me by flipping us over, my back crashing onto the bed.

“Your shoulder, Gage!” I yelled.

He laughed. “Well,” he said while spreading my legs and pulling me to the end of the bed. “If you’d have listened to me, I wouldn’t have to do this.”

Gripping his dick, he rubbed it along my pussy, teasing me now.

“Get ready, baby. This is going to be hard and quick.”

Plunging forward, his cock filled me. Completely.

Once fully seated, he froze, his head back, eyes closed. Thankful I could now see, I took full advantage and watched each muscle in his torso tense and contract. His biceps bulged as his thrusts began.

“I missed this,” he breathed out. “Fuck, I missed this, baby.”

His rhythm continued to increase, faster and faster, as he plunged himself fully inside me. The intensity of each movement, each thrust, caused me to call out every time. He was reaching parts of me he never had.

A sudden burst came from him, frantic movements as he held me in place by my hips. His fingers dug into my skin as I gripped his wrist with my one hand, steadying myself.

“Fuucckkk!” he growled. “Harper, I’m coming, baby.”

He was breathtaking to look at. All hard, ripped muscles now covered in a light sheen of sweat. The veins in his forearms protruded from the exertion he put his body through. It gave him a godlike appearance as he peered down from above.

Eventually, his shoulder gave out, and he needed to collapse onto me, which I didn’t mind one bit. Rolling to his side, I could feel his eyes on me. As I started getting up, to make the dreaded walk to the bathroom, he stopped me.

“Stay put.”

Coming back with a warm washcloth, he wiped me clean, then tossed it on the floor. Plopping back on the bed next to me, his hand went into my hair, playing with the strands.

“I like you as a blonde.”

Nodding, I rolled his way as a huge yawn escaped.

“Take a nap, beautiful,” he said. “But I’m waking you up in a bit.”

My eyes found him, curiosity filling them.

“You didn’t think we were done, did you?”