27. Harrison
Chapter 27
Harrison
H arlow is about to turn right into the women’s bathroom when I grab her arm and move to drag her into a room that acts as the bar office.
In a flash, she turns and throws a tight fist into my throat. If she was aiming for that shorter guy’s face, she would have hit it dead on.
Me?
No, no, no.
She punched me as if my Adam’s apple was the bullseye on a target. She punched me like one of those bar games with the hanging speedbag. She punched me so hard that I don’t even realize I’m not breathing.
“HOLY FUCK! HARRISON!” she screams. My hand releases her as I put both of them on my throat as if I’m choking.
I am—just not on food. I’m choking on the ball stuck in my throat as I fight for air.
By the grace of some god, I hear my first breath, and it’s a loud wheeze followed by coughing and gasping.
“Oh fuck! Oh fuck!” Harlow yells, rubbing my shoulders, like that’s going to help. It doesn’t.
I start to buckle over, almost passing out. I see bright lights and stars. Honestly, I should just let myself go and stop fighting this because it’s more painful to try and breathe.
When I feel myself starting to go limp, Harlow holds me up and looks me in the eyes.
“Breathe! Damn it! Breathe!” She’s so worried; I have never seen her so worked up. It’s almost as if she likes me. Her cool, collected composure is completely lost in this moment.
I nod and wheeze, trying to take a slow breath, noticing that my cheeks are wet.
Am I crying?
Her hands cup my face, thumbs wiping away my tears.
“Oh my gawd! Are ya’ll okay?” I hear a heavy drawl coming from a female voice.
“I don’t know! I thought he was someone else, and I punched him. He’s been white, purple, and blue. Oh my—fuck! Harrison, I’m so sorry! Should we call someone?” Harlow is downright crazy with worry.
I would laugh if I wasn’t in pain and regaining my senses. I go to swallow, and it hurts like a mother fucker.
I shake my head and wave my hand to the woman offering assistance. She nods a few times, sidestepping us and heading into the ladies’ room.
I throw a thumb over my shoulder to the office behind me and with pinched eyebrows, Harlow nods. She opens the door and leads me into the room.
It’s a small room with one window and concrete floors that Silas intended to finish later but never got around to it. A cowhide rug lays on the floor, which would seem unethical to anyone but us. The edges are tucked under furniture. A simple desk and a chair sit at one end with two lounge chairs on the opposite. There’s a lamp behind the desk, and I point to it before sitting in one of the lounge chairs.
Spreading my legs wide, I put myself in a tripod position and take my first few solid breaths. My coughing has stopped, and I think the tears have, too.
Nothing like crying in front of the woman you’re trying to seduce after she strikes you in the throat.
Harlow hits the light, and a soft amber glow fills the room. I keep staring down at the hide’s pattern between my boots, breathing as best as I can. With my eyes down, two black combat boots stand between mine. I don’t think I’m quite ready to meet her eyes just yet, but I don’t have much of a choice.
Harlow’s knees come into my vision as she kneels between my legs. I feel my hat getting pulled off my head, followed by delicate fingers raking through my hair. Her hands brush through the tresses multiple times before she takes hold of my face. She pulls me to face her, and I finally meet her gaze. Those inky eyes of hers look so damn remorseful.
“I’m all good; can’t kill me off that easy.” My voice is raspy and harsh, causing her to flinch.
“Damn kid, I’m so fucking sorry.” Harlow leans forward, moving her hands away for a moment as she plants those lips on my neck. She traces kisses up the column of my neck before returning her hands and kissing me one final time on the apple of my cheek.
“It’s okay, Harlow, just really fuckin’ shockin’.” I try to joke, but I can’t laugh.
“Listen, let me tell Meg and Cassidy we need to leave. We’ll get you back home and maybe get some ice on that.” I don’t want Harlow thinking she has to take care of me. I shake my head fiercely, and I hear a small giggle escape her. She covers her mouth quickly and looks at me apologetically.
“Sorry. You just look so damn young sometimes.”
I suddenly get mad and scowl at her. “I’m only six years younger than you, Harlow!” Damn, even I heard how bratty I sounded that time.
“Yeah, Yeah. Come on, let’s get you home.” She goes to stand, but I grab her wrist tightly.
“Careful kid, you know what happened last time.” This time she can’t stop her laugh followed by biting her lip and staring at me.
“Too soon?” She scrunches her nose a little, and I know I’m a goner for this witch of a woman. Contract or no contract. Her sense of humor, her dark exterior and soft interior, her quick wit, her facial expressions—they all cause my heart to skip a beat. When she leaves, I know I’ll lose a small piece of my heart.
I offer her an annoyed look and that only makes her laugh harder.
“It’s not funny, I swear I feel awful,” she says in between her laughter. I’m a little mad, a little impressed, and a little amused. Damn it, only Harlow could punch me in the throat, and I think it’s funny.
Before I can think about it anymore, my grip on her wrist loosens and my shoulders shake as I join her in a silent laugh.
“It’s not funny,” I say brokenly.
When I finally release her hand, she crouches down and picks up my Stetson from where she had placed it on the ground. Before she can place it on my head, I stand up, taking it from her hands. She releases it and I dust off the bottom then hold it at my side.
“Aren’t you going to put that back on?” she asks.
“Not right away; it’s bad luck to put a hat down flat, even worse in my family if it’s on the ground. After a mean right hook from you, I don’t want any bad luck coming my way.” The first sheepish look I’ve ever witnessed from her crosses her face.
“I’m not mad, I’m actually glad your response was fight over flight.”
“I’m going to say sorry every day until I leave.”
The reminder of her leaving hits almost as hard as her fist. I remember why I came back here in the first place. I snake my left arm around Harlow’s waist and love that when I pull her close, we practically look eye to eye.
Her long, thick lashes flutter a few times, and then she looks at me with a combination of curiosity and regret. I bring my free hand to the back of her neck and tangle my fingers in the thick locks at the base of her skull. With only the smallest pull, her chin tilts up ever so slightly, and I’m able to bring my mouth down to hers.
I kiss her sweetly, letting her know that I don’t feel an ounce of anger after her assault. Once I feel her soften, I press a little firmer against her and kiss her deeper. She hums each time I pull back and return for more. We nip at each other, each time testing how far we can take the pressure. The sharper and harder my bite, the more excited she gets. I capture her lip in my teeth and pull and she tugs her head back in opposition. I can’t say what possessed me to do so, but I only bite down harder, causing her to gasp. The next thing I know, I taste copper in my mouth and I know I’ve broken the skin.
Never in my life has the thought of making my partner bleed turned me on. But everything with Harlow is so different. My tongue drags against the abused flesh and takes more of the crimson liquid. I love the way it makes her shiver. Her hands come up and hold my face in place as she attacks me, taking back what she wants after I have.
We kiss for what seems like an eternity, and I’m lost in her completely. Coming out of the fog, my throat no longer sore, I pull back to look at her.
Harlow’s ivory face is flushed. It trails down her neck and even blossoms at her sternum. I know I’m handsy and like to pinch, pull, and grab. Harlow doesn’t have a handful anywhere on her, and yet I am entranced by the beauty that is her body.
I free her from her jacket and toss it behind me, hopefully landing in on the lounger. I push her back until her thighs hit Silas’s desk and seat her there just on the edge. The thin straps of her lacy bodysuit are freed from the tops of her shoulders and dangle off the sides. I pull the cups free and stare at her gorgeous, flushed flesh—creamy, almost iridescent. Her pebbled, blush nipples stand at attention, and I notice a freckle just to the side on her left.
“Fuck, your body is . . .” I look her over again, noting her cheeks are brighter than before. “Your body, it’s unbelievable. It’s truly a work of art. I’ll remember every line of your body for the rest of my life.”
Placing my hat crown down on the desk, I grasp her hips in my hands.
“One day, when I’m older, I’ll open old sketchbooks and find a whole collection of illustrations that are all based on you.” I kiss her harshly on the lips. “These lips,” I say against them before I move to the small space between her jaw and neck. I feel her pulse there, pounding in a steady rhythm .
“This jaw and all its hard lines.” My tongue drags down the large vein in her neck.
“Your swan-like neck.” When I reach her collarbone I kiss over it, before opening my mouth and biting down like a horse on a bit. She gasps loudly before I release and then lick over the indents I’ve left.
“Your collarbones will be a focal point. So defined and sharp.” I look up to see Harlow’s lips slightly parted and I smile against her skin.
I trail kisses down her sternum; I feel the bone distinctly under her flesh, and it’s something I’ve never experienced. Off to the left, I see her pert flesh waiting for my attention.
“These magnificent breasts, the most beautiful I’ve ever laid eyes?—”
“They can’t be, they’re so small.” I take her nipple captive in my teeth and apply a small amount of pressure. It’s enough to shut her up. I release the tip and look back up to her.
“They’re perfect.” Tracing my tongue around the peaked center of her breast, I move slowly out toward that freckle I caught sight of earlier. With a gentle kiss there, I continue to worship her chest. She basks in my attention, running her fingers through my hair, letting out soft groans. My fingers move to the button of her pants when the door swings open. Shooting up, I stand to cover Harlow, quickly pulling her bodysuit back into place.
“Harrison?!” It’s no doubt Silas. I recognize his voice, and it has a worried tone.
“Yeah?” I say without turning to look at him.
“First of all, is everything okay? A woman was just telling me she saw a man crying before he went into the bar office? Second, sorry Harlow, didn’t mean to interrupt. Finally, what the actual fuck, you guys? This is my personal office! And on the busiest night my bar has ever had. Jesus. Just go home and fuck if you can’t keep it together in public.” Oh, he’s pissed. I’ve heard him use this tone on CeCe and me when we really fucked up.
“Yeah, yeah. We’ll be out in a minute. Shut the damn door and cry to CeCe later.”
All I hear is the slam of the office door and then silence. I’ve been staring at Harlow’s face as she looks away from me, keeping her eyes down.
I’m about to say something, but I catch a smirk before she says, “You really did cry.”
Straight-up whiplash.
“You punched me in the fuckin’ throat, witch. What do you want from me?”
Harlow’s body starts to shake in my arms as she kisses my cheek and laughs against my skin.
“We’re proud of my fight response, remember?”
“Oh, trust me, I’ll remember.”
That’s all it takes; for a minute I’ve forgotten about our contract, that guy hitting on her, and the fact that I can’t have her tonight because her friend is in town.
Will I ever actually get to have her? Will we take it “all the way”?
A large part of me is desperate for it, but another part of me knows that if I do take it there, Harlow will be leaving with a bigger piece of my heart than I intended.