Summertime & Butterflies

“Phew,” Harry commented with dramatic relief as Olivia slowed the car down, maneuvering up his driveway. “Didn’t think you were going to get me here alive, love,” he teased, reaching out and poking her arm playfully.

Olivia glanced sideways at Harry, frowning at his attempt at humour. “Too soon,” she warned him, guiding the Range Rover into the garage, relieved to finally be home with her love. After his accident, Harry stayed in the hospital for a week to heal and begin the long process of physical therapy. The doctor refused to discharge him until he was able to tend to his bathroom duties on his own. As much as she loved Harry, Olivia was pleased to know she wouldn’t be required to aide him on the toilet. Of course, Harry had a few perverse comments regarding Olivia being his nurse, but he wanted to be home more than she wanted him to be, so he worked hard to meet the doctor’s requirements.

Harry chuckled at Olivia’s disapproval. “I’m the cripple, I can make jokes,” he told her defiantly.

Olivia shook her head. “Jokes are supposed to be funny,” she reminded him with a roll of her eyes, stepping out of the SUV and opening the back door, where his and her suitcases were tucked onto the floor. Olivia spent every night in the hospital with Harry, despite his insistence that she should be at home getting a good rest. She tried, just one night, and found herself back at the hospital before midnight. She couldn’t bear to be away from him, and found if one was tired enough, the plastic armchair nestled beside the hospital bed wasn’t so bad.

“Oh, yeah!” Harry exclaimed. “I always forget that part,” he joked, reaching behind him to grab the crutches Olivia already had in her hand. “Sweetheart, I can do it,” he assured her, watching as Olivia walked around the front of the car with his crutches.

She opened the passenger door, positing the crutches. “Just let me help you,” she insisted, watching his movements carefully as he angled his body between the crutches. He was getting stronger by the day, but he still moved with slow, pained movements that broke Olivia’s heart. She hated seeing him in such a condition.

Harry grasped the crutches, chuckling as Olivia ensured they were properly aligned before he was allowed to stand up. He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “You’re babying me too much… I might get used to this,” he teased as he hoisted himself from the car.

Olivia snickered distractedly, watching Harry’s careful movements. “Don’t worry, it won’t last,” she told him, unlocking the door to the house and pushing it open wide. Harry was fairly agile on the crutches – more graceful than Olivia was when she tried them out, and he wouldn’t let her forget it – but she still watched him with concern, wrinkling her nose nervously as he made his way over the metal threshold.

Olivia had ventured back to Harry’s house earlier in the week to prepare the main level guest bedroom for them, removing the necessity for stair use. However, there was no other way into the house from the garage or driveway without using stairs. Harry had practised with the crutches on a staircase at the hospital, but with no doctors or nurses around, it was nerve-wracking to watch him limp up the stairs.

Reaching the top of the stairs, Harry turned to Olivia, a beam across his face. “See, hon? No biggie!” he told her, waving his had dismissively. He reached out and rubbed the small of her back, softly laughing at her. “Stop looking so worried, love,” he commanded.

Olivia scowled at him, looking down the stairs and dreading the next time. Down was always more troublesome than up. “You should have let your mom call that stair lift company,” Olivia told him, remembering the look of disgust on Harry’s face when installing an elderly lift was mentioned. “It’s not just for old people!” she quickly reminded him before he could interject.

Harry pointed a finger at Olivia. “No,” he answered, inching himself down the hall. “How’s our new bedroom look?” he wondered, poking his head in the bathroom door on his way towards the makeshift master. He snickered when he saw the transfer bench placed in the tub, doctor’s orders for his bathing.

“It looks just like an old person’s bathroom,” he complained good-naturedly. Looking over his shoulder, he snickered at Olivia. “Is this what your bathroom looks like?” he wondered innocently, yelping dramatically when Olivia gently swatted his arm.

“Fuck you, I hope you fall down the stairs,” Olivia shot back, though Harry’s grin was infectious. He laughed loudly, leading her down the hall and pushing open the bedroom door. The room had always been nicely decorated, but Olivia made sure to move the bedding from the master to the guest, just to give it a sense of home. She was trying so hard to make sure Harry felt comfortable – her unnecessary guilt over the accident still apparent.

Harry examined the room, smiling when he looked at the bed and saw the upstairs covers on it. “Looks perfect, love,” he told Olivia, gripping his crutches under his arms and taking Olivia’s hands. “Thank you for being the best nurse,” he told her, wrapping his arms around her hips and squeezing her bottom. “Best… sexiest nurse I know,” he murmured, ducking his head as he planted soft kisses along her neck.

Olivia scoffed gently at Harry’s advances, running her fingers through his hair. “Stop… we can’t…” she whispered to him, though there was nothing she wanted to do more than throw her boy onto the bed, strip him down and devour him until morning.

“Hmm… why not?” wondered Harry, letting his hands wander up Olivia’s torso.

Olivia grasped Harry’s hands, removing them from her body. “Because… you’re falling apart,” she reminded him, terrified of getting too passionate with Harry and hurting him more than he already was. “And… your mom is going to be here soon, with your sister,” she reminded him.

“I don’t care,” Harry pouted. “I miss you and I want to fuck you,” he mumbled, his lips finding Olivia’s neck again.

Olivia laughed at his choice of words. “You’re so romantic,” she told him, his lips causing shivers down her spine. She exhaled softly, feeling the effects of his touch. “Come on…” she told him with another laugh, squeezing his hands. “I’ll let you cuddle with me on the couch.”

“Ooh, goody,” Harry said cheekily. “And then we can talk about how great it is to be thirteen again,” he told her, swatting her bottom playfully.

“I’ll make you nachos and we can watch those stupid, stressful, tiny home shows you like,” Olivia countered, knowing it was far from better than sex, but the closest thing she could offer.


Harry sighed dramatically. “You think I like nachos more than these?” he asked, squeezing Olivia’s breasts. He palmed them innocently for a moment before catching Olivia’s eyes, her eyebrow raised. “Fine… deal, I guess…” Harry huffed out, giving her breasts one final squeeze before releasing them.

“I still don’t get why you think those shows are stressful,” he added, chuckling to himself, though it was endearing. He poked Olivia’s backside with the end of his crutch as he followed her from the room.

“Because!” Olivia exclaimed, happy that Harry was appeasing her and putting the brakes on any consummating. “They’re, like, a hundred square feet! And you have to move seventeen pieces of wood, like a freakin’ puzzle, before you can find a can of soup. That you probably can’t cook, because there’s no room for a stove,” she added.

“You’re so weird,” Harry teased, easing himself down onto one part of the sectional sofa. Olivia hovered around him, reminding herself to let him do it on his own. He dropped his crutches on the ground, patting the sofa. “Feed me later, love. Let me cuddle you now,” he demanded, the cheeky grin crinkling his eyes.

“Yes sir,” Olivia agreed, plopping down on the couch and curling up under Harry’s arm. She let out a contented sigh – though it had only been a week since they’d been together in his home, it felt like an eternity. And while she wouldn’t admit it to Harry, she was exhausted.

“That’s better,” he murmured, dropping a kiss against Olivia’s head. “That hospital bed wasn’t quite made for cuddling, was it?”

Olivia snickered. “Seriously,” she agreed. “You should write a letter.”

“Mm-hmm…” Harry hummed in agreement, letting his hand wander down Olivia’s shoulder. He tickled his fingers along the top of her breast, making gentle grasping motions. Olivia nudged her shoulder against Harry’s side, laughing at his insistence. “What?” he asked, feigning innocence, allowing himself a full palm grab.

“Your mom’s going to walk in and see me riding you like a rodeo star,” Olivia laughed, though making no motion of moving his hand from her chest.

Harry shrugged, pressing sensual kisses along Olivia’s earlobe. “We’ve got lots of time,” he assured her. “Giddy-up,” he added playfully, inching his hand through her t-shirt collar and under her bra, massaging her bare skin.

Olivia moaned quietly at his touch. “I don’t want to hurt you,” she said, turning to face him. She dragged her fingers along his stomach in a sporadic pattern, though her touch still timidly gentle.

Harry laughed softly, turning to his side and pulling Olivia tightly against his chest. “You’re not going to,” he assured her, kissing the top of her head. “I’m a pretty tough guy, you know. I can handle a little sexy time with my beautiful girl,” he added, punctuating his comment with a light swat against Olivia’s bottom.

Olivia snickered, stretching her neck towards Harry, finding his soft lips. “Maybe…” she murmured, carefully snaking her arm under his body. She let out a quiet sigh; Harry’s kisses awakening sensations throughout her body. Still, she was terrified of letting things get out of hand and hurting Harry.

“Love?”

“Yeah?”

Harry chuckled, pulling away from Olivia so he could see into her eyes. “You’re kissing me like you’d kiss your grandma,” he teased, fluttering a kiss on her forehead.

“I promise, I don’t kiss my grandma like this,” Olivia answered with a roll of her eyes, but she knew what Harry was getting at. She sighed again, feeling Harry’s arousal against her stomach as she adjusted her position. “You’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?”

Harry shook his head, running his hand under Olivia’s shirt and up her stomach. “Nope,” he answered, pulling Olivia closer as he fiddled with her bra clasp. “Stop being such a martyr and just take your shirt off,” he added, pulling down one of her bra straps.

“How did I get so lucky to find someone who has such a way with words?” Olivia wondered, though sliding into a more upright position and quickly pulling her shirt over her head. Harry grinned; clearly pleased he was winning the battle. He tugged the second strap down, exposing Olivia’s breasts before pulling her back to him.

Olivia carefully straddled Harry, ensuring her foot didn’t bump his injured leg. “You’ll let me know if I hurt you, right?” she asked.

Harry laughed sarcastically. “Love, the only pain you’re causing me is these damn blue balls you’d better do something about,” he teased her, emphasising his predicament with a thrust of his hips. His hands found Olivia’s bare breasts again, and he massaged them softly, his eyes locked with Olivia’s as she slowly rocked against him.

“I love you, you know that?” Harry asked, his voice as gentle as his touch. Since the accident, both of them had made a habit of often declaring their love for each other. It was far from insincere, but with the memories of what could have been still fresh in their minds, both wanted to ensure the other knew just how much they meant, even if it meant repeating the words a dozen times a day.

Olivia nodded, leaning down to meet him. “I know,” she told him, capturing his lips between hers. “I love you, too,” she added, wrapping her arms around his head, creating a pillow for him as their kiss intensified.

Harry ran his hands along Olivia’s bare back, keeping her close to him as their tongues sensually frolicked together. After a few moments, he reached down, tugging on the hem of his own shirt. Olivia broke the kiss, covering his hand with hers, stopping him. He furrowed his eyebrow curiously at her.

“Just… leave it on…” Olivia told him, her voice quietly pleading as she sheepishly broke their eye contact. She never thought she’d be telling her sexy boyfriend to keep his shirt on, but with his chest covered in bruises, it was too much for her to handle. She knew they were healing, but healing bruises always looked more painful than fresh.

“Honey…” Harry said soothingly. Olivia knew he knew why she wanted him to stay covered. “It’s okay…” he tried to reassure her. “I’m fine.”

“I know,” Olivia quickly replied. “Just… please?” she asked him, finding his lips again before he could answer her. She heard him let out a quiet sigh but he reciprocated her kiss, his hands wrapping around her back again.

“I’d never ask you to keep your shirt on,” Harry murmured, his hands gliding up Olivia’s sides to her breasts. He found her nipples, rolling them between his thumb and forefinger and inciting a moan from Olivia. She arched her back slightly, causing her breasts to be more on display for Harry as she bore her hips down against him. As she pressed against him, a quiet hiss escaped from his mouth and Olivia’s eyes popped open just in time to see Harry wince painfully.

“Shit!” she muttered, quickly scrambling off Harry, feeling immensely guilty that she’d hurt him. She knew this would happen. “Are you okay?” she asked him, kneeling beside the couch. “I’m so sorry!”

Harry rolled his eyes at Olivia before scooting into a higher position on the couch. “I’m fine,” he told her, the edge in his voice apparent. He pointed to his pelvis, scowling at Olivia. “Get back on,” he directed.

She shook her head quickly. “No, no, no,” she argued. “It’s not going to work. I can’t,” she told him, reaching for her shirt. She should have known better than to try and have sex with someone who’d just had major leg surgery. What an idiot she was. Harry let out a dramatic sigh, grabbing the shirt from her hands.

“Fuck, Liv,” Harry huffed out. “It’s fine! It was just a little tweak. Don’t worry about it,” he told her, running his hand through her hair. He gave a lock a gentle tug before gesturing to his hips again, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

Olivia stood up, easily grabbing her shirt back from Harry. She shook her head again. “You probably should rest, anyway,” she said decidedly, pulling her shirt on and frowning apologetically at Harry. “This was such a stupid idea. I’m sorry,” she repeated again.

Harry matched her frown. “It was my idea,” he pointed out, pulling himself into an upright position. “Stupidly want to make love to my girlfriend… Fucking idiot I am, yeah?” he muttered, reaching for his crutches. Olivia frowned at his attitude but bent down to help him pick up the crutch. He copied her frown, pushing her arm away. “I can do it myself,” he snapped, his tone reminding Olivia of a toddler. Still, his sharp tone was upsetting.

“Fine,” Olivia countered, sitting perpendicularly from Harry, clasping her hands in her lap as she watched him struggle to pick up the second crutch. Almost defiantly, she pushed it closer to him with her foot, eying him and silently challenging him to act like a baby again. He didn’t. “I just want to help you, you know,” she pointed out.

“Yeah, well… thanks,” he answered, his words sounding anything but appreciative. He huffed out another sigh, limping himself towards the hallway.

“Where are you going?” Olivia questioned, her heart aching as he attempted to maneuver the crutches while in pain – pain caused by her in more ways than one. She knew he was frustrated – not just with the lack of sex, but the entire inconvenience of his injuries – but she wished he wouldn’t be so harsh with her when she was only trying to help. Feeling as though the accident was absolutely her fault, Olivia felt the least she could do was take care of Harry, and ensure he didn’t end up more hurt than he already was.

“I have shit to finish up! By myself!” he shouted over his shoulder, aggressively pushing open the bathroom door with the bottom of his crutch.

“Jesus Christ,” Olivia mumbled to herself. She gave him a few moments before standing up and following him to the bathroom. The door was ajar, so she pushed it open, meeting Harry’s gaze through the mirror. He’d taken off his shirt in the interim, but she forced herself not to look at the bruising, to only look at his eyes.

“Don’t be mad at me,” she told him quietly, her head dropping. “I said I didn’t want to hurt you…”

“And I said I was fine,” Harry reminded her, turning to face Olivia before bracing his hands on the counter behind him. She could feel his gaze on her but she didn’t look up. Harry let out a sigh before reaching out and encircling one arm around Olivia’s waist, pulling her closer to him. She squeezed her eyes shut, avoiding making eye contact with his bruising.

Olivia sniffled, realising she had tears in her eyes. She exhaled impatiently – what a mess she was becoming. Harry ducked his head, peering into Olivia’s eyes curiously. When he discovered she was crying, he let out a boisterous laugh.

“What are you crying for, sweetheart?” he asked her. “Come here,” he instructed her with a chuckle, carefully balancing himself as he enveloped Olivia between his arms. “I’m not mad at you,” he assured Olivia softly, stroking her hair. “I’m just… fucking pissed off with this stupid leg, and…” He trailed off, sighing. “I’m sorry you got caught in the line of fire.”

Olivia carefully rested her head against Harry’s chest. “You should blame me,” she told him with another sniffle.

Harry didn’t seem concerned by Olivia’s emotions, as he laughed again. “I’m not blaming you. Why would I?”

Olivia inhaled a shaky breath before exhaling loudly. “If I wasn’t such a bitch of a girlfriend, this wouldn’t have happened,” she confessed to him, swiping at her watery eyes. “Obviously you fucked up, but I did too. I shouldn’t have let you leave Steph’s house all pissed off. I didn’t want you to, and then this all happened and I… I’m sorry.”

Harry snickered, his hands cupping Olivia’s face, urging her to look at him. He pressed a kiss against her forehead. “You’re not a bitch of a girlfriend,” he assured her, the laughter still in his voice. “You’re the love of my life. So stop crying before I start taking embarrassing pictures of you.”

Despite her emotions, Olivia let out a wavering laugh. “Don’t,” she warned him, holding up a finger. “I feel bad,” she told him. “I don’t want to hurt you, and… I mean, come on. Of course I wanted to keep going with that out there,” she added, gesturing towards the living room. “But I’m scared of you getting hurt, so… don’t be a baby, and just get that, okay?”

Harry hugged Olivia close to him. “I get it,” he promised her, murmuring the words into her hair. “I don’t think you need to worry as much as you do, but… I do appreciate you.”

Olivia let out a relieved breath. Harry could be a bit of a spaz sometimes, so she was pleased he was able to see her side of the situation and understand why she was so apprehensive to be passionate with him. She pulled back; running her hands up his arms as she bravely examined his bruises. They weren’t as bad as she remembered, and Lord, was her man hot.

Harry watched Olivia, amused. “Thought you didn’t want to see me like this,” he told her, boldly teasing her fears.

Olivia rolled her eyes at Harry. “Shut up,” she answered, letting her arms drop. She was still fired up from making out with Harry, but her fears were stronger than her lust. Barely.

Harry chuckled. “Well… Nurse Sugar Tits…” he teased, toying with the hem of Olivia’s shirt. “I was going to attempt a shower slash hose down on that fucking old person bench. You insist on helping with everything else, so…” He raised his eyebrow suggestively at Olivia before giving her an exaggerated wink.

“You’re unbelievable,” Olivia said with a good-natured laugh, though knowing she would oblige. She stepped back from Harry, pulling her shirt over her head and letting it fall to the floor. He grinned at her, reaching out to fondle her breasts once more. She held up a hand, stopping him.

“We are going to pretend that we’re middle school kids, getting fresh in our parent’s basement,” Olivia told Harry. “No sex. You can feel me up. Hand jobs.”

Harry tickled his lips against Olivia’s neck. “Mm-hmm…” he seemed to agree, taking her hands and firmly placing them on the waistband of his sweatpants. She tugged them down, crouching in front of Harry and watching him as she carefully helped him step out of the pants. Keeping her eyes on him, she reached up and grasped the waistband of his underwear, pulling them to the floor and ensuring she kept her eyes away from his surgery scar.

“Mm…” Harry moaned out softly as Olivia stood up, allowing her hand to softly graze along his throbbing erection. He grabbed the back of Olivia’s neck, hungrily kissing her. “Honey, I really want to fuck you,” he groaned, feverously grasping at the waistband of her leggings. “Come on…” he begged as Olivia quickly shimmied out of her pants.

“No,” Olivia told him sternly, reaching around Harry and grabbing a hair tie from the counter, yanking her hair into a top knot. “I told you the rules. Get in the tub,” she instructed, enjoying telling Harry what to do.

Harry grasped Olivia’s shoulder for support. “You’re sexy when you’re bossy,” he teased, hobbling towards the tub. With Olivia’s help, he managed to step into the bathtub, settling himself onto the bench while Olivia turned on the faucet, letting the water warm before turning on the shower.

“Is that okay?” Olivia asked, sticking her hand under the water to test the temperature as it sprayed on Harry back. He reached over his shoulder, taking her hand.

“Not quite hot enough yet,” he told her coyly, his tug on her hand urging her to join him. She stepped into the tub behind Harry, the warm stream hitting her naked back before she released the shower hose from the hook. She began lightly spraying the water against Harry’s back, following the stream with her hand, massaging his soft skin.

Harry leaned his head back, letting out a relaxed sigh as Olivia gently moved the spray to his chest. They’d showered together countless times, but there was something incredibly carnal about this shower and helping Harry bathe. Harry, too, felt the eroticism in the air, as he reached his arm behind him and began stroking Olivia’s thigh.

Olivia reached for the body wash, squeezing a small amount of the cherry blossom scented gel onto the shower pouf. Slowly, almost painfully so, she dragged the mesh sponge up and down his back before she pressed her body against his back, leaning over his shoulder.

“Why do you always get your own way?” Olivia whispered into his ear, letting her lips tickle against his earlobe as she rubbed the sponge against his chest and down to his stomach, though torturously avoiding his rock hard manhood.

Harry let out a strangled whimper at her proximity. “Shit, honey…” he groaned, his hand bending further behind him as he found the middle of Olivia’s legs. “My ideas are always the best… Right?” he questioned, using his free hand to push Olivia’s hand towards his cock.

“They’re alright,” she teased, wrapping her fist around Harry and giving just a few agonizing pumps. He moaned sensually at her touch, his lips twisting into an automatic pout when she released him. “I have to wash your hair, honey,” she told him, pressing on Harry’s chin to get him to lean back. When his head was tilted, Olivia leaned down, inviting him to join her in an upside down Spiderman-and-Mary-Jane lip-lock. “Greasy hair is so 2015,” she added playfully after breaking their kiss.

“Oh, sod off,” Harry replied, closing his eyes as Olivia sprayed the water through his wavy hair. “Jesus, I’ve never been so fucking turned on getting my hair washed before,” he told her, massaging his hand against Olivia’s folds. She let out a lustful moan in response, and Harry squinted one eye open, smirking at Olivia.

“Better get in front of me pretty quick here, love,” he advised her, letting out another groan as he took his member in his hand, gently stroking his girthy rod. Olivia reached down, squeezing his dick before moving his hand away from himself.

“Not yet,” she told him, her hips slowly gyrating against his hand. She was beginning to regret telling Harry no sex, but she knew shower sex would be even more precarious than sex on the sofa. Instead, she quickly rinsed Harry’s hair and hung up the shower hose, letting the water cover his back as she stepped in front of him.

Harry wasted no time tugging Olivia to her knees, gripping the sides of her face with his hands as he eagerly covered her mouth with his, passionately devouring her soft lips. His tongue probed her mouth and Olivia hungrily reciprocated, pulling herself as close to Harry as she could manage. His bulge found itself pressed against Olivia’s chest and Harry slowly thrusted, sliding between Olivia’s breasts.

“Oh… fuck, love…” Harry moaned as Olivia pressed her breasts together, tightening the tunnel Harry was gliding through. “You feel so good… shit…” he hissed out as Olivia snagged the head of his cock in her mouth, bobbing on the tip as Harry thrusted.

Hearing Harry moan with pleasure was a massive turn on. She took his hands in hers, placing them against her breasts. He continued to push them together; tweaking Olivia’s hardened nipples as she reached between her legs. She moaned against Harry’s member as she found her sensitive bud with one hand, gripping the base of his cock with the other.

“You look so pretty when you do that, honey,” Harry told Olivia, releasing one of her breasts to nudge her chin towards him. He found her lips again, sloppily consuming her, impassioned lust driving his wet caress.

Olivia jerked her fist around Harry as they kissed before breaking apart and ducking her head. Her lips parted slightly as she took his thick head in her mouth. She kissed and sucked lightly on the tip of his cock, making love to his shaft while her tongue swirled around teasingly. She took him slowly and deeply into her mouth, deliberately covering every inch of his dick with her mouth.

Harry’s hands gripped Olivia’s hair, yanking locks from her bun. “Don’t fucking stop, sweetheart,” Harry panted, his hips pushing against her mouth as his cock grew around her lips. The more his dick stretched her mouth and the more he moaned, the more turned on it made Olivia. As she slurped away, licking and sucking his tip, she alternated between tugging his shaft gently and squeezing his balls, all the while keeping her free hand firmly between her legs.

Harry squirmed against the bench, his passion building. He reached down, tugging on her pleasuring hand. “Fuck, come here, love,” he urged her. “I want to feel you.”

It was one of the reasons sex with Harry was always so good – he was far from selfish. Olivia stood up and straddled Harry’s uninjured thigh. Her wet sex pressed against his tiger tattoo as her hand found his fat shaft, pumping feverously as she rocked against Harry’s leg.

“Ohh…” she cried out softly, Harry’s thumb massaging her delicate nub. She snaked her free hand around Harry’s neck, kissing him fiercely and sucking at his juicy, sweaty lips. They panted against each other’s mouths as their hands mutually pleasured the other, both of them getting closer to reaching their peak with every flick of the wrist.

Olivia’s grinds atop Harry hastened as he rubbed his hand against her. He groaned against her lips as she rapidly stroked his cock, urging him closer to climax. He matched her pace; his flicks making Olivia’s legs shaky as she felt her body tingle as her impending orgasm approached.

“Oh, shit…” Harry sighed, Olivia panting out her own moans of pleasure in unison. “Fuck, honey… Just like that. Oh fuck… Ohh!” he groaned loudly, his body slumping against Olivia as he reached his peak, pearly strings shooting from his member. Almost instantly, Olivia’s back arched, the waves of pleasure coursing through her body as she vigorously fucked against Harry, hitting her high spot.

They panted against each other, their hands simultaneously running up and down each other’s damp backs as they caught their breath, coming down from their high. Olivia pressed her lips against Harry’s neck, hugging him tightly. “You’re alright?” she couldn’t help but ask. Though his injured leg had stayed stationary during their tryst, she wanted to be certain the lustful shower hadn’t hurt him.

Harry ran his hands along Olivia’s hairline, pushing her wet hair from her face. “Shhh…” he instructed, pressing a soft, languid kiss against her lips. “That was perfect. I’m fine. You’re beautiful,” he told her, kissing her again. “A right pain in my ass, but a beautiful one anyway,” he teased.

Olivia beamed, relieved she hadn’t hurt Harry. She squeezed her arms around him again. “Good,” she determined with a happy sigh, ticking her lips against Harry’s collarbone once more. “You’re a pain in my ass too, by the way,” she countered cheekily.

“I know.”

“But I love you.”

“I know that, too.”

Notes