Peyton Brooks becomes friends with Morgan Stone, a vivacious and fun young woman. Morgan takes Peyton to the Hamptons, where her family owns a gorgeous house. Morgan's brother, a casanova with a lot of baggage, and Peyton don't get along initially...
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It was either the romantic setting of the wedding, or our one night apart, I wasn't sure, but we were absolutely insatiable. Whenever I thought we were going to pass out from exhaustion, a new wave crashed over us and we collided passionately, kissing and touching each other.
Eventually none of us had any energy left, and we drifted off to sleep. We slept until around noon, where Morgan texted us that they were on their way to the airport, and for us to be good and take care of each other.
Harry chuckled when he read it, and I knew where his filthy mind had gone, so I shoved him and shook my head at him. That only incited a round of tickling I couldn't escape from.
"Harry!" I cried out, begging for mercy, but he wasn't budging. He kept tickling me until I claimed I'd pee myself.
***
Life was treating us well. Harry was busy with our house project, meanwhile I was working hard at Stone Publishing. And as time passed in its own steady pace, we ended up standing in front of our completed home. The house stood like a vision of understated luxury, its crisp white exterior gleaming against the backdrop of the New York skyline. The black roof sloped gracefully, its edges sharp and clean. The windows were framed in black and at the heart of it all, the red front door caught the eye, a statement of warmth amid the cool elegance of the white and black. A matching red mailbox perched proudly on its post at the end of the driveway leading up to the house.
Harry was carrying the very first thing we'd be placing in our new home; the drawing he had made when he was five years old. A drawing of a white house, with a black roof, lots of windows and a red door and red mailbox.
I wrapped my arms around him and snuggled into his embrace. "You did it," I whispered.
He nodded, silently taking in the vision in front of him; his perfect house.
***
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Moving was a slow process. The others were a great help to us, packing, carrying and unpacking without hesitation. We still stayed at the penthouse and weren't going to make the final move until everything was ready for us.
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