Marrying a Boxer | H.S.

Chapter 44

Harry and I walk out of the restaurant, hand in hand. The morning air is chilly and the sky is covered by the clouds. The green-eyed man opens the passenger door for me and kisses my lips softly before I slide into the car, buckling my seatbelt. "Did you enjoy your breakfast, Sweetheart?" Harry asks once he's in the driver's seat and the car is on.

"I did!" I smile. "It was delicious. I love it when you show me new restaurants, babe." He takes my hand and brings it up to his lips, kissing my knuckles. I find this such a sweet gesture. He's been doing it quite a lot and it melts my heart every time he does it.

"I'm glad you liked it, love. I'm taking you out for dinner as well. How does Vietnamese food sound?" He keeps his long, ring-clad fingers tangled in mine as he drives.

I let out a short laugh. "We just had breakfast and you're already thinking about dinner?" he chuckles. "I've never had Vietnamese food, but I would really like to try it."

"That's what we'll be having, then." He looks my way for a second with a dimpled smile before focusing back on the road.

I turn up the volume on the radio and Harry starts singing along to You're Still the One by Shania Twain. This is possibly the second time I've heard him sing and I feel like I'm in a trance. I turn my head and look at him. I love the way he interprets the song with so much passion, and the way the veins on his neck pop as he sings. His voice is absolutely beautiful, if he hadn't been a boxer, I'm positive he could've been a singer.

Once we get home, we begin working on a plan for the centre I want to create. First, we need to find a place where the building can be constructed. I wanted this idea to become a reality soon, but I know I need to be patient because it will take time. As we research for the best construction companies in London, Harry's phone dings, signaling he's received a text message. Chills run through my spine, and I look at Harry. I've been quite paranoid since that one text Harry received the other night. He said that the person had most likely gotten the wrong number, but I can't seem to shake off the uneasy feeling. These days I've been on edge. I have a feeling that something bad is going to happen.

Harry looks at the notification on his screen and sighs. "It's Gemma. Her and mum want to come over for dinner tonight." I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding and nod.

"Tell her we'll gladly have them over for dinner," I say.

"But-"

"We can have Vietnamese tomorrow, Curly," I interrupt with a smile and kiss his cheek. He sends a quick text to Gemma and then shuts off the laptop.

"Very well, Sweetheart. We have about three hours before Gemma and my mother come over, that should give us enough time to... y'know," he wiggles his eyebrows with a cheeky smirk.

I giggle and shake my head. "We've been fucking like rabbits, Curly!"

"I like fucking you," Harry chuckles. "I love seeing your body writhing in pleasure," he whispers in my ear, kissing my earlobe, tugging it slightly. "Your lips parted as you try to catch your breath." His lips travel down to my neck. "Your legs shaking as I make you cum," I feel the tip of his tongue on my sweet spot. "Let's go upstairs, baby girl. I'm already hard." My eyes travel down to his prominent bulge and I bite my lip.

"Fine. But the handcuffs must be involved." He nods and we run up the stairs, giggling like children.

Once in the bedroom, Harry walks over to one of his drawers and pulls out the metal handcuffs, along with some other items. "You mentioned the Handcuffs," he says as he approaches me. "But how would you feel about trying some other things?" He kisses my lips, dropping the items on the bed.