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A month after they'd scheduled the meeting with her donor, the day had finally almost arrived. Just two more days, mere hours until they had to leave for Dr. Patel's office and she'd be able to meet the person who'd given her the greatest gift of all. She was as nervous as she was excited. And the fact Harry would be coming along with her, only made it all the better. She'd asked her mom to babysit Ollie while they were gone.

Moira nudged open the front door, exhausted but pleased. It had been a long day. Her first day back at work since she'd gone with maternity leave all those months ago. After hours of slaving at the office, she looked forward to just relaxing the rest of the evening.

Laden with bags full of groceries, she bumped the door quietly shut with her back, not wanting to wake Ollie -who was presumably sleeping. Sneaking in late at night wasn't a problem for her -she'd done it many times before, back when she still lived with her mother. She didn't make a sound as she laid down the groceries in the kitchen and tip-toed into the living room.

Harry was waiting for her.

Well, to a certain degree.

Her little rockstar was passed out on the couch, his toned limbs dimly lit by the flickering of the TV's static. Moira covered her laugh. He was so worried about her, about her first day back at work, that he'd tried his best to stay up despite himself.

He'd promised to babysit Ollie whenever she had to work, which was only two days a week but still; the gesture was nice. And the fact Oliver seemed to like him nearly as much as Moira did, only made the decision much easier for her to make. Harry took a good care of her baby, she knew.

Just that morning, she'd explained to him that because it was her first day back at the office, she assumed she'd be home late. And that he was free to crash in her bedroom -like he'd been doing for the past two and a half months- if he got tired. Big, strong and tough Harry, however, had assured her he'd be awake for her return.

"You don't look awake to me..." she mused to herself, sneaking up beside him. His chocolate brown hair was a complete mess upon his head and Moira had to keep herself from running her fingers through the curly strands. She carefully slid onto the couch and slipped the remote from his loose hand. The screen flickered off, and everything quieted again.

Harry yawned and stretched, brushing his hand along her fabric-clad skin. His fingers stopped just above her lap, and it sent a chill up her spine -a light touch from him was all it took for Moira to turn into a hot mess.

It had been harder and harder to stay in control of her hormones, especially since they'd become an official couple. Harry would tease her with his hands, lips or tongue and then keep her hanging. And whenever she woke up from a good night of sleep, it wasn't unusual to feel his morning wood poking her butt. Which took some getting used to at first, but now all she wanted was to touch him and admire his pleasure stricken face.

Trying to withhold more naughty thoughts from making their way into her head, she nudged Harry gently, trying to keep quiet as Ollie slept upstairs. Perhaps she was overreacting with the whole 'keeping quiet' -thing, but she knew how much of a drag it was to get him to go to sleep now that he was teething, so she wouldn't be taking any chances. Slowly his eyes opened, and he hazily looked up at her.

"Babe? Oh hey, you're back already..."

"Already? I've been out all day!" She teased. Harry rubbed his eyes and sat up, though he kept his hand where it was. He was looking there intently.

"So, how was your day?"

"Oh, exactly like it had been before. Tiring as hell." She paused to rub at her temples, trying to get rid of the headache that today's work had earned her. "Two meetings with potential clients, confirming shipments, checking out a whole bunch of residential magazines, trying to convince the workmen that cyan and turquoise are two entirely different colors and we need an extra designer so I had to review a shit load of portfolio's as well."

"Is that good?"

"As good as work can get." She sighed, reaching up to silently ask Harry to hold her. He smiled -in what seemed like victory- before pulling her to him, sitting on the couch and hoisting her onto his lap. She leaned fully into him, resting her head on his shoulder and feeling his arms circle around her waist.

"You know what Ollie did today?" Harry started as he pulled away so she could look at him, "He crawled."

She swallowed thickly with emotion. "He did?! But he's only 6 months!"

His fingers rose to caress her cheek, his lips curling into a crooked, fond grin. "He did it like he'd done it a million times before."

"God, my kid is a genius."

Harry had to bite his lip to stop himself from correcting her and saying 'our kid'.

It pained him he still hadn't told her who Ollie's dad was, but he caught himself retreating every time he was on the edge of telling; too scared her reaction wasn't going to be the one he wanted. And besides, he had a plan to stick to. And now that the day of the meeting was getting close, he couldn't suddenly drop it and go with his instinct. It could potentially ruin everything.

"Did you have a nice day?"

"Ollie and I had some men-bonding time. We watched baseball and ate our weight in barbequed chicken." Harry murmured, making Moira snort; knowing fully well her son barely had any teeth to chew with.

Leaning his forehead against hers, Harry's eyes peered into hers with utmost fascination and adoration, and his hand found hers, gently intertwining their fingers together. "I missed you though."

She found herself smiling, even though she hated anything cheesy. Harry somehow made the words work. "I missed you too, ."

"Come on," He said gently, standing up. She wanted to clutch tighter onto him-like a baby, but she released him and let him help her up. "I'll run you a bath."

* * * * *

Harry turned on the tab, letting the scorching hot water fill the bathtub and throwing in Moira's favorite bathbomb. He watched for the first few moments as the water filled the bottom, dissolving the bathbomb. Whenever he'd see her rub at her aching muscles, he'd make a fuss about it and tell her to 'take a better care of herself', after which he'd run her a nice and soothing bath.

The gesture made Moira's insides turn to mush, because even when she refused or told him no, he'd insist. Never before had someone cared so much about her to worry about the little things she did or didn't. It made her hope that maybe, possibly, Harry could be the one?

"Crap, I forgot my bathrobe and night gown from the bedroom." She groaned. "I'll be right ba-"

"No, I'll grab it for you." He cut her off. "You go take your bath and relax."

Before she could protest, he was gone, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

She caught herself hoping he would return when she was undressing herself, join her in the tub and then continue to make sweet, sweet love to her. Moira felt her cheeks burn, and shook the thoughts from her head.

Only when the bubbles began to climb the sides of the tub, did she slowly, yet steadily, undress herself, dropping her black pencil skirt, white blouse and black stilettos to the floor -keeping her previous thoughts at the back of her mind.

When the tub was half full, she dipped her tippy toes in the water, testing the temperature which seemed about right. Easing into the almost too-hot water and nestling there, she enjoyed the churning, enveloping sensation. There was a tiny part of her that feared, but also eagerly anticipated, that the water would completely submerge her as she lost herself in the experience. Obviously, that didn't happen; instead she found a compromise between the highest level the tub could allow and that in which she could easily relax and breathe comfortably.

As she turned the water off, near silence returned, and she laid in a position that allowed her muscles relax, that let her skin enjoy the warm feeling evolving her.

For added comfort, she placed a folded washcloth over her eyes to help her mentally shut out the world, to exist only within the water-blurred boundary of her skin and in her gradually decelerating yet still meandering mind. Soon, every aspect of her being had a soft glowing smile of joy. How much time passed like this, she didn't know, only that the water wasn't yet too cool.

Some distant part of her had heard the knocks, though she paid no mind to them. So when the knocks went unanswered, the door opened. She registered it as a safe and welcomed concept -in one way or another- and then her thoughts melted back to wherever they had been. She mildly heard him walk into the bathroom. He sat on the side of the tub and cupped her cheek. And only when his skin touched hers, did she come back down to earth, ripping the washcloth from her eyes.

"Harry, I'm naked!" she stated the obvious, her voice sounded high pitched, verging on hysterical.

God, she absolutely hated herself in that moment. Why she was even freaking out was beyond her. It had been years since the last time a man had seen her in her birthday suit, but still. This was Harry, not just any random man. Despite this, panicky adrenaline was rushing through her bloodstreams.

Pulling away from her, Moira shielded her bréasts with her hands and clasped her thighs together very tightly. The bubbles weren't doing a very good job at hiding her nude body from Harraël's piercing gaze.

For a short time he didn't move, apparently simply enjoying the sight of her feminine form decadently and literally soaking in relaxation -or what used to be relaxation.

Neither of them spoke, though Moira's visibly started to relax again as they'd come to a silent agreement: he wasn't here for any inappropriate reasons.

"Can I wash you?"

Or so she thought...

Moira just stared at him. "I beg your pardon?"

"I want to wash you," Harry stated, his eyes burning into hers. She shifted uncomfortably. "Not as an excuse to touch you, if that's what you're afraid of. I want to take care of you."

"I don't know.." she whispered breathlessly. "I'm not sure I'd be comfortable with that.."

"Why not?"

"Since giving birth to Ollie, I've been having trouble losing the extra weight and I haven't really accepted my new size yet so-"

"A little extra weight?" He questioned incredulously. "That's it?"

Suddenly feeling silly, Moira blushed. He was right, it was only some extra weight. In return, she'd been blessed with her precious son. And besides, she'd -hopefully- be able to lose the weight once she got back into going on morning runs. Nonetheless, her positive thinking didn't minimize the negative thoughts a lot, because she still couldn't help but feel self-conscious. "I-uhh.. yes."

"So what! That just means there's more to grab onto."

"Harry!" She gasped out loud.

"What? It's true."

Wading through the water, her bréasts rose a little above the surface, the bubbles clinging to her skin and partly covering them. Moira reached for a bath glove and grabbed a hold of Harry's hand; sliding the glove on and immersing his hand in the tub. She then fetched the soap, the fragrance-free, hypoallergenic wonder that that always left her feeling beyond clean.

Knowing he had her permission, Harry slowly began to caress her right hand and arm, scrubbing them beyond feeling great but just before too rough. With an intentionally slow method, he began to own wherever he rubbed, bringing her skin to life, causing everywhere else to long for his touch. It was both invigorating and calming, stimulating and reassuring, and undeniably hot.

He washed her whole body with the gloves, using them to cleanse and caress her. It was impossible for her to remain still in the tepid water. She couldn't help but to reach toward him with whatever part of her he caressed, to press against his hands in order to feel more of him, which was something he wouldn't allow, partly for the power involved and to keep her from rubbing her skin raw in its very softened state.

It was glorious.

When he finally removed and rinsed off the glove, the water was fully cooled, but she was hot enough not to care. It had been an incredibly intense and intimate experience. She'd been nervous, yes, but his gentle caresses had reassured her within an instant. He hadn't washed her with the mere goal of touching her naked skin; his intentions were genuine.

Her bréasts and womanhood in particular, had been rather interesting. No doubt, Harry hadn't wanted to wash them intending to make her skin crawl with want -judging from the way he'd carefully touched her. Yet, it hadn't failed to do just that.

Moira's intentions however, not so much. She had the hots for him before, but now he'd set her on fire. And she was burning to be touched by him in the most intimate of places. Or better, inside of her.

Gently taking a hold of her hands, he gradually eased her to her feet, being sure to keep her steady since the tub was slick with water and that hint of soap. Standing naked in front of him felt like the most natural thing in the world whereas 20 minutes ago, it had been beyond uncomfortable to even know she was naked under the bubbles covering her from his sight. Moira secretly thanked her luck she'd shaved two days prior. She didn't mind a natural look, and have some blonde curls covering her pelvis. But she did take pride in looking groomed.

Harry released the plug on the drain, and she seemed to see all her previous stress and tension flow away. He removed the hand-held shower head from its base, turned on the water, and while he waited for the right temperature he adjusted it to the shower pulse setting he wanted.

Soon he gently rinsed her off, concentrating the jets on, for example, her belly, but only slightly skimming over her quite erect nípples and swelling pússy. She couldn't help but moan at that, instantly feeling a little ashamed at how her body was so easily responding to him. It made a satisfied smirk appear on Harry's face, however, as he continued to spray water only enough to rinse but not enough for pleasure.

When the tub was nearly all drained after the shower was also off, Harry began to gently towel her off. Surprising her yet again. He embraced her, caressed her with the towel, again ensuring that he reached all areas to dry her.

He quickly dropped the towel between them once she was standing on the bathroom floor beside him and pulled the nightgown over her head. He embraced her completely, enjoying her slight dampness against his dry body that was beginning to glisten from the humidity of the bath. And his growing desire -that he'd previously managed to hide.

It wasn't long before they were kissing, hungrily, feeling closer than ever before. She leaned down, her lips lightly kissing his neck, and she began peppering his neck with gentle kisses. Harry hummed in approval, his throat vibrating from the low sound. Her cheeks flushed bright red as she stopped kissing him. Now she attached her lips to his skin, sucking. When Harry caught on to what she was doing, the hand around her áss tried to pull her closer. She began sucking harder, focusing on one spot, enjoying the masculine scent of Harry.

Moving up, she once again attached her mouth to his -it was soft and wet, with the slight taste of mint. He gripped her head, kissing her hard, and she opened her mouth to let him in. By then, his hardness was beginning to press against her, making her moan into the kiss. She floated there, lost in the feeling of his lips as he ground himself along the line of her pelvis.

How long they made out like that, she didn't know. They only stopped for breath when their dry humping became a little too heated. Moira played her fingers along his back while they both panted, aroused beyond imagination.

Who lead who into the bedroom, neither of them knew. But seemingly the next instant they were beside the bed. The same bed where she'd caught Harry touching himself, nearly one and a half months ago.

She noticed that on top of the bedspread he had laid out one of her super soft teddy bear-blankets, one she could barely resist at any time but all the more so after a long bath. She clambered up instantly and snuggled in before thinking to turn around and look at him. She felt mildly intoxicated from the sensual joy she had felt in the tub.

Harry's expression revealed that he wanted more than to simply enjoy the feel of the blanket but to instead enjoy her on it. Slowly, Moira started undressing herself all over again, biting her lip as she unbuttoned her nightgown and threw it on the floor. All her previous insecurities vanished into thin air. His focus on her made her feel naked in a different way, vulnerable and exposed, fragile... and yet safe.

He didn't hesitate joining her in bed.

"Are you sure you want this?" Harry almost whispered as his hand came up to cup her right cheek. His warm thumb rubbed over the skin in a comforting way. And he held her there for a second, eyes just looking at her face.

"I've never been so sure about anything."

He smiled, placing his lips on her forehead. Then following the line of her nose and cheek, he steered his tongue and lips toward her mouth. And next, without a word, the two grappled their tongues and mouths together in the same passion that gripped the two of them on their first parting kiss. It made her dizzy, made her melt, made her dissolve into Harry, as if they were combining into a single person. Nothing could feel better than this kiss. Nothing.

Well, perhaps the sex they were about to have could top it off.

Climbing on top of her, he was still fully dressed. Which evidently didn't go past her as she eagerly started pulling at his clothes; nearly ripping them off.

Cupping her bréast, his lips touched her breastbone and she was lost again, a prey to ecstatic sensations. A guttural moan came out from her lips when he began nipping at a nípple, which hardened even further under his light touch. He slowed his movements, making her swivel her hips against his groin.

One of Moira's hands reached forward and wrapped around his shaft, stroking him, feeling him throb under her grip. She pulled him closer before pushing him away. And for a moment, Harry was almost panicked at the thought of being rejected, but then she slid off the bed onto her knees in front of him. He watched her like a predator waiting to attack its prey as she took him into her mouth. Licking just the tip of his swollen head, she heard Harry inhale sharply. And took a glance at him to find him leaning back, his eyes now closed, his mouth slightly parted. His entire body shuddered with pleasure: feeling her lips close around his shaft, sliding her tongue along the ridge.

Knowing he'd reach his climax within minutes just from the sight of her sucking him, he pulled her back to her feet, pushed her onto the bed and climbed back on top of her. He started to pant when Moira wrapped her fingers around the base and guided towards her eager snitch.

"Wait! What about protection?" He suddenly exclaimed. Moira giggled, but it soon warped into a little satisfied moan as she felt Harry's thick arousal twitch against her entrance.

"Bedside table."