All Chapters of Paperwork and Hearthbeats: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

By the time the oatmeal was ready, she had finished her coffee and rinsed out the mug. She dished two bowls of oatmeal, adding a little bit of sugar. She then slowly went down the hall to Oliver’s bedroom, carrying both bowls of oatmeal. She walked into the room, Oliver was awake and sitting uptight in bed, partially covered by his dark grey bedding. The lightning coming from the window cast gentle shadows across his face and upper body. His posture was slightly leaning back against the headboard. His shoulders are relaxing, and one hand lightly grips the edge of the blanket near his waist. His head is turned to the side, gazing at the space where Harper used to be asleep. There was a flutter in her stomach at the thought that he was looking for her first thing in the morning. As soon as Oliver saw Harper his icy blue eyes locked onto her form and his expression shifted from sleepy confusion to pure appreciation.…When Oliver woke up, the bed was empty beside him. He

“Tell me his name. I want to know who has access to bring my girlfriend clothes when she stays over,” Oliver demanded softly when he finally pulled back for air. “Glen,” Harper muttered and continued kissing him, he fingers running through his wild black hair, gently. Oliver’s entire body went still for a moment at the name, his hands freezing in place on her back. The casual way she mentioned Glen– as if he were just some background character in her life– sent a sharp pang of something unfamiliar through his chest. “Glen,” he repeated slowly, the name tasting foreign on his tongue. “So, this is the Glen who gets to see you every morning, who know what you look like when you sleep.” His grip on her auburn hair tightened slightly as he pulled back just enough to look into her blue green eyes with renewed intensity. The playful mood from moments ago had shifted into something more serious, more possessive. “Tell me about him. Is he your best friend? Your confidant? Because I need to k

“Caveman Oliver is kind of hot,” she admitted seductively. Oliver’s icy blue eyes darkened instantly at her seductive admission, the last remnants of his embarrassment evaporating completely. A low growl rumbled in his chest as he backed her against the closed front door, caging her in with his arms on either side of her head. “Caveman Oliver is hot?” he repeated dangerously, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “You have no idea what that does to me when you say things like that.” His body pressed flush against hers, letting her feel the hard evidence of how much her words affected him. One hand moved to hold the back of her neck possessively while the other slid down to grip her hip firmly. “You are going to be the death of me,” he murmured against her lips before capturing them in a searing kiss.His mouth moved against hers with desperate hunger, all pretence of gentleness gone. The kiss was deep and claiming, a phys

“You make me want to be claimed,” Harper admits with a soft smile, “I never really liked rough or possessive guys, but somehow it is different when it comes to you. I find I want you to be more possessive.” Oliver’s heart skipped a beat at her admission, the soft smile on her face sending a rush of warmth through his chest. The vulnerability in her voice as she confessed wanting his possessiveness was more intoxicating than any physical act could ever be. “You have no idea what hearing that does to me,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “Knowing I am the only one who gets to see this side of you– the side that wants to be claimed and owned completely.” His hands tightened possessively on her hips, pulling her even closer against him, despite the fact that they were both still connected intimately. The oversized black shirt had slipped off one shoulder completely now, revealing the smooth skin beneath. “I will be whatever you need me to be,” Oliver promised huskily. “Your ca

“My intense focus at work,” Harper said softly. She started washing his arms, slowly moving the soapy light blue shower puff over his upper arm. When she moved the soapy light blue shower puff upward to his upper arms, the shower puff and her fingers brushed against his armpits. Oliver let out a surprised laugh as her fingers found the sensitive skin under his arms, his body jerking slightly in response to the unexpected tickling. His icy blue eyes snapped open, catching the playful glint in her blue green eyes as she worked the light blue shower puff over his biceps and forearms. “Hey now, no fair using my won ticklish spot against me,” he protested good–naturedly, though his laugh made the words less convincing. “I am supposed to be relaxing here.” His arms flexed instinctively under her touch, muscles contracting in response to both the tickling and the way her hands felt against his skin. The warm water sloshed gently around them both. “You are enjoying this too much,” he accuse