Take Me Home Tonight

Harper grabbed James’ hand and led him up the steps, toward the newly finished master bedroom. He’d slept there all of two nights. Harper knew that even now he wouldn’t risk trying to take this too far. She had to show him exactly how serious she was about wanting it.

At the doorway he slowed, pulling her back into a kiss. They were kissing as they crossed the threshold, this brand new room like a blank slate no girl had been in before. He gently tugged a handful of her dark blond hair until their lips parted.

“Harper, I....”

To her credit, she stopped trying to strip him in order to hear what he had to say.

“I wanted this the whole time. Well, not just this...” he shrugged, meaning the half-naked in the bedroom part. James had never been the type to talk about feelings, but he’d never really gotten this far with someone those feelings applied to. And he might never be so talkative again. There were things he needed to get out, so he would never regret not saying them. “You were always the best thing about this place.”

“You are the best thing about this place,” she said. “When you want to be.”

They finally reached the foot of the bed, a place they’d stood a million times, and James didn’t have to use any of the tricks he’d imagined for getting Harper there. She just pulled him right down on top. James slid them both up the bed as his mouth worked it’s way down her body: the pulse in her throat galloped beneath his lips, the curve of her breast was soft under his kiss. He raked his tongue across her nipple, felt it stiffen and knew that she couldn’t be lying. Her body, at least, wanted this and that was good enough for him. Also, her hands were opening his jeans.

The new rug was christened with everything else they wore. Dusky light filtered in from the high windows that Harper had so loved about this room on her first visit. Since that day, they’d both imagined it leading to this. James slipped his hand over her flat stomach, beneath the silky fabric of her panties and right between her legs.

He got it then: the surprised noise Harper had made when he kissed her after the wedding, the noise he’d only then been close enough to hear. A tiny squeak, like a kitten. This time he felt it too, in the wet heat of her body that coated his fingers. His own engine roared.

Harper could only hope that James really knew her by now, believed she wasn’t the kind of girl to spread her legs and beg. He must get that all the time - and right now, Harper couldn’t blame any girl for trying. He stroked her softest skin, spreading her just a bit, until she actually bucked against his hand. Slut, she thought. But it had been a long season of hot guys and no action. James pushed two fingers inside Harper and she groaned with pleasure.

That sound, so much more intimate than surprise, nearly did James in. He ground his lap against her hip, the full shape of his hard cock riding along her side. She was ready for him, no question. He freed his hand, taking her panties too, and Harper reached for his shorts.

Long, was her first impression. Like everything else about James’ lanky body, he was long in her grip as she worked off his shorts and stroked his cock for the first time. Hard, too. In fact he was throbbing and his breathing rasped. For two people who’d waited so long, they were in a hurry now. She shifted toward him, he settled on top. James’ tip grazed the spot and Harper rolled her hips down to meet him. He pressed her hips to the bed and pushed inside.

It was heaven. It was a hundred times what he’d felt with other girls - resistance, pleasure, surrender - because James felt Harper in every part of his body. Not just the business end, but in his heart and blood and most surprisingly, most strongly, in his brain. She was here. He had done it,earned it, whatever it could be called. He’d known a girl for months, messed up in every way, and yet she was only now in his bed for the first time. Good thing too, as he could count on her coming back. Because James wasn’t going to last very long.

Harper’s eyelashes fluttered along with all her other fluttery parts. She’d been so keyed up on the flight home and drive to James’ house that she wasn’t sure what to expect. Yes, he’d have her. She believed it when he said he loved her, or at least felt the beginning of something that serious. Being together physically was the easy part. He was hot and she wanted him. She always had.

Now that she had him, pressed deep inside her body and breathing hard, Harper stopped fighting for the first time in three months. She let her head fall back and felt every stroke as James started to move, increasing his pace and force. He trembled in her arms, said her name once and then he broke.

That did Harper in. She’d never come so quickly in her life, but feeling James’ control slip had pushed hers off too. Her back arched, James caught her mouth and kissed her quiet.

They lay for a long time, touching each other but not talking. They were on top of the blankets and there was plenty to see. Harper traced the sharp black whorls of James’ sleeve tattoo, then the one of his last name under the other bicep. He flinched, revealing a weak spot. Harper catalogued that for future use. James ran his fingers over her skin and tried to paint it in his mind. If he remembered, then no matter what happened Harper could never be taken away. Even when he went on the road. Even if he screwed up and she left. She stretched out across his chest, reaching past him toward the bedside table.

“You never found my surprise, did you?”

James twisted a piece of her dark blond hair around one fingers, spooling it against the soft skin of her back. “No. I did look, though.”

“Did you start this book?”

He hadn’t; The Three Musketeers was still where she’d left it on the bedside table. “I might never start it now; I found something else to do in bed.”

Harper put an elbow down and propped her chin. It was the kind of twisted position she’d only ever been in with a guy who’d gotten this lucky. “If you’d read the book, you might have known sooner.”

James’ brow furrowed, trying to guess her riddle, then he picked up by book and shook it as if expecting something to fall out.

“Not inside.” Harper tipped her head toward where the book had been. There painted on the bedside table, in the same writing as the quote James had seen in her own bedroom, was a small phrase in black. He could have missed it forever.

Be kind. Aim for my heart.

“What does it mean?” he asked.

“It means do what you mean, and mean what you do. Think first, and even in the worst times, do the right thing.”

She was talking about his past tendencies that would surely show themselves again. Harper believed James could be a better person - she was betting her heart on it. He kissed her deeply, rolling with her wrapped in his arms. When she opened her eyes, James’ clear blue ones were looking back.

“Before, you said that you think you love me,” he said.

Harper looked up at that puppy dog face. “I know I love that guy from the wedding. This guy,” she pinched his side, “right here. And I think that’s you.”

It was the best James could hope for. “I think so too.”

Santa never came to James’ house that night because they didn’t sleep long enough. A few hours, then one of them would move suggestively and they’d wake up, hungry for each other again. It blended together into a drowsy dream and they woke when it was fully light again.

“Merry Christmas,” Harper said, musing James’ already sticking up hair.

To her surprise, he flipped back the blanket and got out of bed. The view was nice so she gave him an appreciative whistle. James dug out a t-shirt and threw it her way.

“Breakfast isn’t going to make itself,” he said.

By the time she found her panties near the closet and shimmied them up under the hem of her borrowed shirt, James was already in the kitchen making eggs. She had to admit that he was almost - almost - as good looking as the room she’d designed.

James scrambled and toasted, then tossed everything onto two plates and carried it into the living room. Harper, legs bare all the way up to what he was missing, followed with two glasses of juice. In front of the Christmas tree, on Christmas morning, they had breakfast together.

This, James thought. He’d been chasing an idea so long he’d worn it smooth, untill it had no details left. He wanted to feel at home. He wanted someone to share it with. He needed that person to understand that he wasn’t perfect, and most of all to expect better from him. Demand it. In return, he hoped to deliver not only his own improved behavior, but to be what that girl needed. He wanted to help her too.

Harper needed someone exciting. She went from project to project for a living, but she always got to the heart of it and figured people out. It just couldn’t be too easy. James would take some time - and that was perfect. He could drive her crazy or make her proud, they’d have to work together.

When James was done eating, he went to the Christmas tree and rooted around. Then he came back, lifted Harper’s legs over his own lap and covering them both with a throw blanket. “I got you something.”

Harper lifted one eyebrow. This had the sound of a rehearsed speech.

James laughed sarcastically. “It’s Christmas and you’re naked and I feel romantic, okay? It’s not like I knew you were going to be here!”
She yanked his face close enough to kiss, then settled back to hear him out.

He dove right in. “After my rough summer, I wanted to come back here and get my head straight. Just slow down and reevaluate some of my behavior. Of course, I immediately met a smart, sexy and talented girl - that’s you, for the record,” he gave Harper a cheesy smile that made her laugh, “but it’s hard for me to not get caught up in this life. I thought if I could be your friend, if I could pass that test, then I’d be okay.” James brought his left hand up: it held a long, rectangular box. Clearly jewelry but not the size of a ring; he had the sense to make sure of that. Still Harper’s hands were slow to take the gift.

“I held onto you to keep myself from getting swept away.”

“Like an anchor,” she finished for him, opening the box. Laid out against the satin lining was a fine silver chain with a small diamond pendant in the shape of an anchor.

“My anchor.”

Harper looked at James, which turned into kissing James, which ended with her beneath him on the couch in a tangle of blanket and borrowed t-shirt.

“I didn’t really succeed,” he said, hovering over her, “with the friend part.”

Harper thought of Rachel, Thanksgiving, Boston, Sidney - all in a reel like her life flashing before her eyes. Then she turned it off. “You did,” she told him.

James kissed her lips. “I can do better.”
____

It was very different walking into The Church Brew Pub on December 26th. Everyone was back in town, back to the grind. The Penguins had won their first post-Christmas game and James just kept his mouth shut. Then someone had put out the call that dinner was on Crosby and much of the team had gone right from the rink to the restaurant.

Now, James was hand-in-hand with Harper, making his way up the aisle of the church-turned-restaurant without missing the irony of the place. Just a few days ago, they’d been holding hands in another church, but the world had changed a lot since then.

Harper had stayed both nights, and most of the days, since Christmas Eve. They talked and laughed, did routine tasks like grocery shopped and shoveled snow. Every single activity ended up in bed or on the couch or in the shower, with the water set to hot to defrost frozen fingers and toes. James realized for the first time in his life that he was making love, not just having sex, and it was revolutionary. The more time they spent being intimate, the more he wanted it. That had never happened to him before.

Harper just laughed. Watching James discover someone he actually liked was better than any romantic comedy. Gone was the cool guy who’d worked the party at Halloween, even the protective one who’d squired her around Nate’s wedding. This James was, in fact, exactly like the James who had gotten excited over paint chips and crown moulding. No one seemed more surprised than James to find himself really being himself - and that he’d been that way all along.

“Merry Christmas,” Paul said, intercepting them before they reached the Penguins’ commandeered set of tables. He smacked James on the shoulder. “I see someone got what they wished for.”

“That’s right,” Harper grinned as if Paul were talking to her. “Next year I aim to make the naughty list.”

James took the catcalls and joking in stride. Nisky rolled his eyes but insisted on buying their drinks. The Borts and Beau comedy duo tried endless “James-and-Harper” related material. Even Crosby, who kept his distance, laughed when they landed a good joke. They sat with Paul, Anne and Craig at the end of one long table. Anne insisted on hearing all about the house.

“I love it so much, I couldn’t leave it behind,” Harper draped her arm playfully around James’ shoulders. “Had to get visitation rights.”

Dinner wasn’t formal, so people moved around when it was over, dragging chairs and carrying pint glasses. Harper didn’t have to wait long - James went off somewhere and Sidney appeared in his place.

“Merry Christmas,” she said. It was a little unfair that he was still so fucking handsome.

“Guess Santa didn’t get my letter,” Sid shrugged. “There’s always New Year’s Eve, standing around waiting to be kissed.”

Harper gave him a slow once-over look, then broke into a smile. “I can’t believe you’re single.”

Sid shook his head. “I can’t believe you made me jealous of James Neal.”
____

James could hardly wait to get through the door. Dinner had been the longest stretch of time he’d gone without kissing Harper in two days - it felt like two months. There among all his friends and teammates she’d acted like being with him was the most natural, obvious thing in the world. As if anyone who’d seen what she’d seen would still want him. Beau, Borts, Paul, even Sid - they all knew better. Then Harper looked them right in the eyes and said they were wrong.

Instead of his place, he drove to hers. She didn’t protest. Her own place was the place where James had first realized he was in way over his head. Harper knew herself, it was all over her house. Now that James knew her and wanted to know more, there was only once place to be.

He parked out front, where they’d fought after the Boston trip. They climbed the stairs where she’d forgiven him and promised him they’d be alright. Now they were even better. Inside was the kitchen where he’d told Harper about Rachel. James avoided that now. He steered instead toward her big, comfy couch and pulled Harper into his lap.

“You,” he said, then started kissing her.

Harper turned until she was facing him, barely breaking the kiss to straddle his legs and set herself high and tight into his lap. She wrenched off her coat and scarf while James pawed as his own layers. The navy blue sweater that complimented his eyes so nicely came off and he set to unbuttoning her white blouse. When that was gone he lifted the two full cups of her bra, threatening to spill them over, and buried his face in her soft skin.

Winter wasn’t an easy time for two people in a hurry to be naked. Harper had to dispatch her riding boots and get up to shimmy off her jeans. James kicked off his shoes, jeans and shorts, then Harper stopped to remove his socks because it was too ridiculous otherwise. It was a welcome return when she climbed back into his lap in just her panties and bra.

The couch was so soft. James moved to the edge of the seat and pulled Harper in close, the cleft in her body giving as the width of his hard-on slotted into place. She moved her hips, having learned in two days what he liked. James muttered a curse against her shoulder, so she did it again. He hooked aside her underwear and pushed right up inside her.

“James,” she moaned. He pulled her down strongly, riding deep on the first stroke. Harper exhaled sharply. Then she turned her head and kissed him hard, tugging his lower lip and urging him on. James’ body responded with a roar. Her breasts bounced between them as he thrust upward again.

Harper understood. She knew what it had been for him to take her to dinner, with all these guys who assumed James wouldn’t - or couldn’t - be good enough. He wanted to show them. Now he wanted to show her. She bucked against him, earning a little moan.

James arms wrapped around her, flipped her onto her back and buried himself in to the hilt. Testosterone flooded his veins. Maybe it made him a show off, but damn if tonight hadn’t felt great. He stroked again, Harper’s body welcoming the force. Everything throbbed dangerously.

“Baby,” he growled a warning.

“Baby,” she said mockingly, though her lashes fluttered.

Stars popped at the edges of James’ vision. Using both hands to hold down her hips, he rode Harper against the forgiving sofa cushions and tried to catch up with his own body. She grabbed and handful of his hair and kissed him until she was panting, that telltale twitch in her body letting him know that she was so close. He knew that about her now. It made him even harder.

“God, ohgod,” she breathed. She was definitely not in control of anything now.

James didn’t want to go first. Sometimes he couldn’t help what Harper did to him. Tonight though, it seemed more important than ever that he satisfy her needs. After all, she’d been talking to Crosby at dinner.

“Come with me.” His breath was hot against her ear.

Harper did her best for one last trick, she squeezed through the first notes of her orgasm and felt James like he was bigger than ever. Her body responded by clenching hard for a heartbeat, then bursting. Her toes curled and she moaned as it rippled through her even while James was still moving.

He ran right into it, like chasing a storm, mining Harper’s body for every ounce of energy. The hard pulse of pleasure was the last straw. Even as it tumbled through her body, James was losing his own grip. Heat pumped out of him with every last stroke until he slumped over her. Their hearts were pounding.

“If you’re tired at pratice, everyone will know it’s my fault.”

“I think they’ll understand,” he panted.

“Well in that case, I’ll make sure you can’t walk tomorrow.”
____

Notes