Chapter 8 #2
Harley rolls his eyes at her, then kisses her cheek sweetly and tucks me under his arm to walk down to the pool.
I wait until we’re in the hall before I burrow into the solid warmth of his chest. The rumbling noise of contentment he makes is loud against my ear, and his hold doesn’t slack the entire way, even when I elbow him for his constant teasing.
He uses his own set of keys to get us into the building, and he disarms the alarm with practiced ease. When he catches my questioning look, he shrugs. “Coach knows I come here when I can’t sleep. He gets an alert saying someone has disabled the alarm and when he sees it’s my code, he ignores it.”
Huh.
I didn’t know that was a thing for him but the more I think about it, the more I realize they all have little rituals, every one of them.
Avery cleans obsessively and puts things in meticulous order, Ash runs until he can’t breathe, and Blaise messes around with lyrics and drawings in his notebook.
They have all learned how to cope with the dark reality of our world.
I guess I have as well, because I study like I’ll die without it.
I also take to my bed and cease existing two days a year.
I’m busy musing over our broken little family when Harley does that move of his and pulls his shirt off one-handed. He grins at me, the absolute asshole, because he knows he has my attention now, and he pushes his jeans down his legs until he’s left in nothing but a pair of swim shorts.
Sweet merciful lord.
I would like to climb that boy like a freaking tree.
It occurs to me that I can now. Jesus fucking wept.
His grin stays in place while he waits for my soul to return to my body and it only falters when I start to fumble with the dress, gritting my teeth at the stupid thing until finally the fabric floats to the ground and I’m left in the sparse black suit.
“Holy fuck,” Harley croaks, and I barely manage to blink before he’s hauling me up into his arms and my legs wrap around him instinctively, like they were made to be. Maybe they were; I’m not questioning it. I couldn’t right now if I tried.
He holds me up with one arm under my ass, holy fucking hotness, and uses the other to gently grip the back of my neck, pulling my lips into his.
Just before they touch, he whispers, “We are not having sex for the first time in a pool, but fuck me, it’s tempting.
That suit is the work of the devil, and she’s trying to fucking kill me.
I need some frigid water to calm my dick down. ”
I huff out a laugh but before I can tease him, he tugs me into a kiss.
I wriggle in his arms just enough that I slide down his body a fraction and feel that, yep, he really does like what he sees.
I wriggle a little more, moaning into the kiss and grinding against him, so distracted by his groans that I barely take note that we’re moving.
It’s only when he steps down into the water, slowly descending the concrete steps, that I break away and prepare to be submerged.
“Don’t look so scared, babe. I won’t drop you,” he teases, nipping at my neck.
I don’t want to tell him that I’d once been held underwater until my vision blacked out, and doing this with him is using a level of trust I didn’t know I was capable of. Not just going for a swim, but being this close to him in the water. I clear my throat and try to chase the ghosts away.
The water is colder than I expect a pool that was custom built for spoiled brats to be, and a little gasp rips out of my mouth before I can bite it back when the water hits my shoulders.
Harley smirks at me and pulls me flush against his chest again, grunting when my hard nipples rub against him.
He walks us deeper and deeper, until he’s swimming to keep us both afloat.
I try to think weightless thoughts as the tension eases out of his face the further we drift out.
He looks so fucking relaxed.
I don’t want Illi to come and ruin this moment.
“I’ve missed you. It’s only been a week and I already hate being back at school,” I say, trying to swallow the lump in my throat at my admission. I attempt to duck my head away, but Harley cups my cheek and forces me to look at him.
“I miss you too. I fucking hate that dumb slu—fuck—skank for picking me. I spent the entire summer break desperate to get us all back here, and now instead of spending the year with you, I’m dodging hands.”
Pulling back, I fix a stern gaze on him, ready to climb out of the pool and hunt the bitch down, but he only shrugs it off.
“She keeps stroking my arm and my shoulder. It pisses me the fuck off but it’s not enough to get her under Floss’s thumb.
Fuck, I don’t want to talk about her. Grind on my dick some more, that’ll distract me. ”
He gives me this wolfish grin and I cackle at him, so blissfully smug that he wants me just as much as I’m dying for him.
I wriggle against his chest again and lean forward to swallow his groan.
I’m still not confident in much more than kissing, but his reactions to everything I’m doing spurs me on, like maybe my enthusiasm is enough to get me through this without looking like an inexperienced fool.
Harley swims us over to one side of the pool and perches my ass on a little ledge so he can settle between my legs without me dragging him under the water.
He moves to kiss my neck, sucking on the skin below my ear, but when I try to grind on him, he holds me still with one hand and a firm grip. Fuck it, I need more.
“You’re a fucking tease. I know you said no sex, but does that mean nothing but kissing?” I whisper, and he jolts away from my neck. My cheeks are on fire, but the stunned look on his face makes it worth pushing past my nerves.
He stares at me for a second and then says, his voice nothing more than a rasp, “Fuck.”
Right.
I was kind of expecting more than that, but before I can die of pure mortification, he’s kissing me again and grinding his dick into me like he’s on a mission.
I’m one hundred percent on-fucking-board, and I suck on his tongue until he’s panting and groaning, pulling my hips closer until I’m a shaking mess.
His fingers dance along the seam of the swimsuit and I nod, trying not to break away from his lips, but good lord, if he doesn’t touch me right now, I’m going to die.
The bathing suit is so skimpy he barely has to graze it to get it out of the way, then he’s groaning again as his fingers slide reverently through my slick pussy lips, stroking me like he’s savoring the feeling.
My breath catches in my throat and the smoldering look he gives me only makes it harder to breathe.
“We can stop,” he whispers, stroking the hair away from face with the hand not currently cupping my pussy.
I think about inflicting violence on him out of sheer frustration and grit out from my clenched teeth, “If you do, I’m going to stab you.”
He smirks at me then grinds the heel of his palm into my clit, pushing a finger into me, and his hips jerk forward when I clench around the digit.
He pumps his finger into me, curving it to rake over my G spot, and my head drops back as I moan.
He adds another and moves to rub my clit with his other hand, tight, maddening circles until my hips are jerking and twisting wildly.
The water seems to warm around us, like the heat we’re throwing off our bodies is changing the temperature of the pool.
I can’t think straight, my whole existence is centered around what he’s doing to me, and I think I’m going to die if I don’t come soon.
“Fuck, you’re going to make me come in my shorts like this is the first pussy I’ve ever touched.” His voice is nothing but need and fire, and I shiver, catching his lips with mine to suck on his bottom lip again. I’m so fucking addicted to the taste of him.
It shouldn’t be a compliment, but I’m fucking preening at his words, even through the haze of my own impending climax. The only problem is, I don’t want him to come in his shorts; I want to make him feel as good as his fingers being buried in my pussy makes me feel. It can’t be that hard, right?
I gulp.
Then I remind myself that I’m not afraid of anything, let alone a dick.
Even if it is way bigger than I thought and attached to one of the hottest guys to ever walk the Earth.
Deep breath. I slip my hand down his incredible abs and into the waistband of his shorts.
He groans like a dying man as I wrap my fingers around his dick and, sweet merciful lord, I will take that sound to the grave.
He wasn’t lying; he’s throbbing and searingly hot in my hand, like he’s a few firm pumps away from coming. I’m going to give it a shot.
I manage one stroke before my ringtone cuts through the air and ruins everything.
It can only be Illi and we can’t ignore him, even for a few minutes, because fuck knows what sort of trouble he could get into at Hannaford if left to his own devices. Harley moans into my mouth, and when I break away, he curses viciously. “Is the whole fucking universe cock-blocking me?”
I manage something vaguely resembling a laugh but inside, I’m dying over the interruption.
To my horror, Harley can’t get me back into the dress and when the clock starts running down on us and I begin to really freak the fuck out, he tugs his shirt over my head instead.
My legs are both restless and wobbling, a dangerous mix, and Harley scoffs at my attempts to walk. “Just sit down and I’ll go let him in. Jesus, babe, cross your damn legs! I don’t want him seeing that perfect pussy or how wet it is for me.”