Harper possessed a rare talent - she could blend two worlds that the universe swore could never coexist: her humdrum life as an accountant by day with her steamy famous alter ego crafting erotic tales online by night.
But her double life unravels...
❝Secrets I have held in my heart Are harder to hide than I thought Maybe I just wanna be yours I wanna be yours, I wanna be yours❞
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There was so much to be said about making love. A simple Google search would wield a million results (and counting) to prove that a vast majority of us on this planet exhaust ourselves in search of it.
Not just love itself but the making of it.
The magic of beginnings you never saw coming and the promise of never ending.
The harmonious bliss of finding that as your body connects with another-be it through a touch, a kiss, or something more-knowing it will forever be enough because now, you were finally home.
That kind of love...
People spend lifetimes in want of it and never find it.
That's why I loved writing about it. I could word it into existence, giving my readers hope that they'd find it too in that solitary fleeting moment, when their heart expanded within their chest as they experienced it through the words on the screen. And that ephemeral glow of unconditional, unfathomable love would touch them, giving them a taste of what we all deserved.
Aiden Mitchell taught me that nothing, not even an infinite amount of words poured out of my soul, would compare to the euphoria of finding it in reality.
His kisses were hard, soft, and everything in between.
He kissed me as if he were a dying mortal one second, and I was the ambrosia of the Gods he'd dared to taste, knowing it would burn him from the inside out.
And then the next, his lips moved over mine with long and languorous touches, as if we were the Gods themselves with nothing short of an eternity spread out ahead of us to explore each other.
Aiden peppered kisses over every inch of my face as he backed me up into his bed, not satisfied by a moment's separation even when I fell back onto the mattress with a stifled moan.
"Come here," he moaned.
It wasn't an order but a plea as he lowered himself onto me on the bed, caging my legs in between his thighs and my body between his arms as he kissed me.
"Aiden."
He stilled when I said his name, our lips separating as he hovered over me just enough to look into my eyes.
"Yes."
Like molten silver tempered by the moon's caress, his gaze wielded every bit of love and affection out of my body, drawing me into a world where all I saw was shades of gray.
"Aiden," I repeated, my voice softer still.
I brought my hands to cup the side of his face and simply held him, feeling the way his cheeks warmed under my touch, memorizing how his eyes shifted from the giver of adoration to the realization that he was being adored.
