Chapter 26 Harris
Harris
The second I climbed into the back of that truck with Lucy—the second she pulled at me with those desperate hands—any rational thought I had in my brain evaporated into the breeze.
Lucy is everywhere. Beneath me, around me, in my head, under my skin. She clutches my shirt as if she could pin me down, breath stuttering when I press deeper into her. Warm. Soft. Womanly.
I shouldn’t let this go any further, because I’m leaving.
But I will.
Because I’m a selfish bastard.
She shivers because it’s not exactly warm outside, and for a brief second, I think she might be shivering because of me as my hands trace the smooth expanse of her stomach, my lips teasing the spot along her jaw. Below her ear . . .
When the wind picks up again, it threads its way through the trees, curling over us. Chilly. Causes Lucy’s fingers to twitch against my shoulders.
I smirk, running my hands over the curve of her hips. “So you’re using me for body heat?”
She shrugs, all innocence. “Gotta take advantage while I can.”
Something in my chest tightens at that. She’s teasing—but there’s truth buried in her words. While she can? Does she think we have an expiration date?
“If that’s the case, we should take advantage, don’t you think?” I press a slow, deliberate kiss beneath her ear ’cause that’s where she likes it. “Under the stars. Just you, me, and—”
“Bears,” she cuts in.
I pull back, blinking. “Bears?”
I had not thought about wildlife since I’ve been here, not once.
She nods, face completely serious. “You know . . . big, furry creatures? Roam the woods? Have a taste for eating unsuspecting lovers fucking outside. That happened once in one of my true crime podcasts.”
A grisly chill runs down my spine. I glance over my shoulder, eyes narrowing at the dark tree line, searching for bears. I gulp. “You’re messing with me.”
She tilts her head. “Am I?”
I try to gauge whether or not Lucy is screwing with me—should I actually be worried about being eaten alive? “You literally just said we might end up on a true crime podcast.”
“No, I said I heard a story about two lovers being mauled while they were banging. But that wouldn’t happen to us.” She mulls this over. “I don’t think.”
“You don’t think?”
“Well . . .” She drags her fingers lightly down my arm to distract me, my brain too busy conjuring images of sharp-toothed bears and cougars and badgers lurking in the shadows, waiting to kill me, to concentrate on her light touch.
“I mean, we are in their territory. And they do attack people sometimes. Especially unsuspecting ones.”
“What the fuck, Lucy?” I hiss, scanning the woods again like I might see a pair of glowing eyes through the bushes. “You couldn’t have mentioned this before I shoved my hand up your shirt and got a boner?”
She bites her lip. “I thought you were tough.”
“Are you gaslighting me?” I squeak, heart pounding. “I’m not trying to die in the middle of the woods with my dick out.”
She full-on laughs now, sitting up beside me. “Relax, Harris. It’s not like bears are . . . waiting for two horny people to start making out in the woods before they attack.”
I stare at her, slack jawed. “Why did you put that idea into my head?” Seriously, what the hell is wrong with her? This is not funny!
“When I said it, I didn’t think you would get so worked up about it!” She grins, reaching for my hoodie. “We could always test the theory? See if a bear pops out of the woods?”
“Abso-freaking-lutely not. We are not risking my life over this.”
“Your life? What about mine?” Lucy is laughing all over again, giggling as if it’s the funniest thing she’s ever heard. Then she stops, putting a hand to her ear. “Did you hear that?”
My head whips around. “What?”
Lucy’s eyes are wide, locked on to the trees. “I swear I heard something.”
A prickle runs down my spine. “Do not mess with me right now.”
I’m sensitive. Fragile.
An absolute mess of a man.
“Shh.” She shakes her head, holding up a finger for me to shush. “Shhh.”
I hold my breath to listen, but all I hear is the wind rustling through the branches, whispering through the trees, and then—
A crack.
A very distinct, not-the-wind kind of crack.
I stiffen, every muscle in my body tensing up. “What. The. Fuck. Was that?”
My cock deflates, all the blood draining out of it.
Lucy presses a hand to my chest, patting me twice. “It’s probably nothing.”
“Probably?” My voice shoots up half an octave. “That’s not comforting. At all.”
She bites her lip, like she’s debating whether to mess with me or let me suffer. “Could be another deer.”
“Or a bear!”
“Or a serial killer.” She says it nonchalantly, as if she’s filing her fingernails—not a care in the world.
“Oh my God.” I slide toward the tailgate, already reaching for her, tugging her along with me. “I’m not dying like this. Not naked. Not with you laughing over my dead body.”
Lucy tries—and fails—to suppress more laughter. “I cannot believe how terrified you are right now.”
“Excuse me for having survival instincts!” I hiss, unamused.
Another crack. Closer this time.
I grab her arm. “We’re leaving. Come on.”
I don’t wait for another sound. I haul her out of the truck like we’re in a full-blown horror movie, my survival instincts fully engaged.
Lucy stumbles, half laughing, half protesting as I practically drag her toward the cabin. “Harris—oh my God—are you seriously—”
“Yes! Yes, I am seriously! Pick up your feet before I throw you over my shoulder.”
Another snap of a branch.
I don’t look back. I don’t want to see whatever the hell is out there. I grip Lucy’s wrist tighter and run.
She’s gasping through her laughter. “You—you do realize we’re probably running toward it, right?”
“Do not say that!” I yell, fumbling with the cabin door. My fingers are shaking far too much to get a good grip on the handle or insert the key.
Lucy leans in, breathing on my neck. “What if it’s already inside?”
I stop. My entire body locks up.
She loses it.
I whirl on her. “This is not funny, Lucy.”
She’s crying with laughter now. “It’s a little funny. Baby bit.”
I yank the door open, shove her inside, and slam it shut behind us, chest heaving, back braced against it. “You are never talking me into outdoor sex again.”
“Do I have to remind you that we were just getting started?”
“No.” I shake my head vehemently. “Not happening. My dick is so flaccid right now.”
She bites down on her lower lip to entice me. “Bet I could change your mind.”
I scowl, crossing my arms. “Nope.”
She steps closer, fingertips dragging along my arm. “Not even if I—”
A loud thump hits the side of the cabin.
I scream.
She doubles over, gasping while I clutch my chest like I went into cardiac arrest. “You—” she wheezes. “You actually screamed.”
Of course I fucking screamed! I’m scared, goddammit! I glare, panting. “I—that was a manly yell.”
“That’s what you’re calling it?” She shakes her head, eyes sparkling with mischief. “No, babe—that was a high-pitched terror scream.”
When I open my mouth to argue, Lucy shocks me by dropping to her knees in front of me, hands smoothing up my thighs. She runs her palms over my jeans, nails tickling me through the denim.
“Jesus Christ, Lucy.” I back up so fast I nearly knock into a table. “Now is not the time.”
My back hits the front door.
“Oh?” she laments. “You don’t look very . . . conflicted.”
“I am not conflicted.” I glance toward the window like whatever thumped against the cabin is about to burst inside and eat us alive. “I’m trying to survive.”
She bats her lashes. “Or we could make the most of our last moments together.”
I scowl down at her. “You suck at comforting people.”
A wicked smirk plays at her lips as she lifts the hem of my T-shirt and presses a slow, deliberate kiss to my stomach, right above the waistband of my pants. “Speaking of sucking . . .”
My brain short-circuits.
My breath catches in my throat.
My hands hover uselessly at my sides like my body can’t decide if I should stop her or help her along. I am a dude, after all, and my dick loves to do the talking . . .
“Lucy,” I warn, sounding so, so weak.
She looks up at me through dark lashes, the picture of sweetness and sin wrapped in one. “Hmm?” Her fingers toy with the button of my pants, the lightest graze of her nails sending sparks through my already overloaded system.
I exhale sharply, tilting my head back. I am so screwed.
“Still worried about survival?” she teases, pressing another kiss to my stomach. Navel.
My moan is not subtle. “I was. Now I’m worried I might actually die, but for very different reasons.”
She hums, hands splaying over my hip bones. “If you do, I promise to give a touching eulogy. Something tasteful.”
I tip my head forward so I can look down at her, one brow raised. “Tasteful?”
She grins. “Mostly tasteful. I might have to mention how you collapsed with a look of pure bliss on your face because your dick was in my mouth.”
I choke on a laugh, gripping her shoulders.
Lucy tugs at my zipper, fingers working with deliberate slowness, and my head falls back against the front door with a dull thump.
“Don’t you wish you could resist me?” she wants to know, doing her best to undo my pants.
Resist her?
I can’t.
Which is the problem.
My hands go to her arms so I can haul her up, ignoring her startled gasp. “Enough of this,” I murmur, sliding my arms around her waist and spinning us so her back is the one pressed against the door. “You think you’re in control here?”
She blinks up at me, a wicked little smile curving her lips. “Oh, honey,” she whispers, dragging her nails down my chest. “I know I am.”
I don’t give her a chance to prove it.
I claim her mouth in a desperate, searing kiss, pressing my body flush against hers, feeling every inch of her warmth, every soft curve molding against me.
She melts, a sigh slipping from her lips as I tangle my fingers in her hair, tilting her head back so I can taste her deeper.
Her hands fist in my hoodie, pulling me closer, no space left between us.
And then, to drive me completely insane, she lifts one leg, wraps it around my leg, a silent plea to screw her against the door.
I break the kiss with a groan, dropping my forehead to hers. “Lucy,” I murmur, breathless. “You’re going to kill me.”
“Only in the best way.”
I shake my head, pressing my hips flush against hers, feeling her sharp inhale. “Bed. Now.”
She hums, considering. “Or. We could do it right here.”
See? What did I tell you? She totally wants me to fuck her against the door—I wasn’t imagining it.
Lucy bites her lip again, eyes sparkling. “I dare you.”
“Or.” I nip at her earlobe, enjoying the way her fingers tighten against my hoodie. “I drag you to the bedroom and have you under me in five seconds flat.”
My hands snake around to her back, drop low, skimming the backs of her thighs. Then, without warning, I lift her, hooking her legs around my waist in one smooth motion.
Lucy gasps, gripping my shoulders. “Harris!”
I grin against her neck. “Told you.”
She glares down at me. “I hate how cocky you are.”
“Liar.” I take a step, securing my hold on her. “You love how cocky I am.”
She makes a sound in her throat like she’s gonna argue as I carry her straight toward the bedroom. “Don’t you dare toss me on that bed. Lower me gently.”
I laugh, deep in my chest. She’s so cute. So bossy.
Her eyes widen as realization dawns. “Harris . . .”
“I love it when you say my name.” I kiss her, ready to drop her.
“Harris—”
I dump her onto the mattress.
She bounces once, boobs jiggling beneath her sweater as she lets out a startled squeal; then she pushes herself up on her elbows, a mixture of shock and irritation on her face. “You asshole!”
I chuckle, yanking my hoodie over my head. “You asked for it.”