“Too much?” he asks, amused.
“Just a bit,” I admit, laughter filtering through my words.
“Okay, how about this.” His hands reach up, cupping my face. “I really don’t care about the food truck rally. I just needed an excuse not to have to say goodbye yet. So, food truck rally or no food truck rally, I really don’t care. I just want to spend the day with you. No matter what we do.” With that, he presses up and lays a light kiss to my mouth.
When he pulls back, resting his weight back onto his legs, I’m not sure if I want to laugh, cry, or do both. This man is so far from the person I thought he was it almost makes me sick that I spent so much time treating him the way I did.
And even though I’ve been playing this game right along with him, a part of me has been holding back. I’m not sure why or what I’ve been afraid of—though I can think of a few things—but up to this point I’ve been justifying his actions by assuming that he was purposely messing with me. Now I’m starting to think maybe he isn’t. And even if he is, even if this is all just a game, what do I really have to lose?
In that moment I make the decision that I’m all in. I’m done fighting my attraction for this man. I’m done worrying about stupid bets or how this all will end. Because one thing that I know with complete certainty is that it will eventually end. And that’s okay. But there’s no reason I shouldn’t enjoy the ride while it lasts.
“Well?” He looks up at me expectantly. “Any better?”
A slow smile forms on my face seconds before my arms go around his neck and I pull him back to me. “Much,” I mutter against his mouth before pressing my lips to his.
It’s the first time I’ve initiated any kind of real physical contact between the two of us and I don’t think this fact is lost on him.
His hands slide around my waist seconds before he tugs me into his lap. I go willingly, a soft moan escaping my throat as he deepens the kiss. His tongue slides against mine so effortlessly that it almost feels like he was born to kiss me. Or I was born to kiss him. Or maybe we were born to kiss each other. One thing is for sure, I’ve never been kissed the way Harris is kissing me right now. Like he’s suffocating and I’m the only oxygen he can find.
His hands slide up the back of my shirt, and the feeling of his palms sliding against my skin is comparable to the way cool water feels on a hot day. Perfect.
I don’t know how long the moment lasts—one minute or five—time bleeds together as our hands roam, tongues clash, and breath mingles. What I do know is that disappointment pools in my chest the instant he pulls away. But that disappointment is replaced by something else entirely when I see the pure hunger in his eyes.
“Am I to take that as a yes?” He smiles, his fingers still tracing light circles against the small of my back.
“I guess,” I grumble in the best annoyed voice I can muster.
“You guess?” He cocks his head to the side, challenge in his eyes.
“I’ve never been to a food truck rally before.” I shrug, acting completely indifferent about the entire thing. “Besides, I guess it’s better than laying around here in my pajamas all day.”
“We could do that instead.” His gaze darkens as his grip on me tightens. “But we could skip the pajama part.”
I let my head fall back as I laugh. It’s either that or I’m going to end up swallowing his face again. I know I said I was going to stop fighting whatever this thing is and enjoy it while it lasts, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to jump into bed with the man...no matter how badly I really want to.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself.” I tap him on the nose and move to stand, my knees wobbling as they try to support my weight. “But before we do anything, I need a shower. And no, that’s not an invitation.”
The lip pout returns and this time it’s even more pathetic than before.
“Don’t you need to go home and change anyway?” I gesture down to his still bare torso.
“How about I wait for you to get ready and then we can head over to my place together?”
“Why? You said the food truck rally doesn’t start until four. That’s six hours from now.”
“Do you really think I’m going to leave this apartment and give you the opportunity to change your mind?” He puts his elbows against the couch and eases himself up off the floor.
“Seriously?” I place my hands on my hips and give him an exasperated look.
“Seriously.”
“So what? You’re not going to let me out of your sight all day?”
“Sounds about right.” He grins. “Now go, take your shower. You might want to lock the door just in case.”
“Just in case what?”
“Just in case I decide the thought of you wet and naked in the other room becomes too hard to resist.”
I swallow, hard, thinking right about now wet and naked with Harris sounds pretty damn good.
Chapter Fourteen
Blue
Harris’ apartment is pretty much exactly what I expected. Sleek, modern, void of common personal items that you usually see in someone’s home.
He lives on the top floor of a six-story building less than ten blocks from me. I had no idea we lived so close. Then again, I never really had a reason to care until now.
His apartment is modest but also much larger than mine. He has at least double the square footage as well as an additional bedroom and bathroom.
His décor is simple. Black furniture. Silver accents. Glass tables. It’s much different from my place which looks like Pottery Barn vomited all over it. What can I say, I love patterns and lots of color. I want my home to feel just like that – a home. Not that Harris’ apartment doesn’t, it’s just not the same.
While he’s taking a shower, I pass the time by looking around. I flip through a couple of books on his bookshelf and peek inside his cabinets. I’m not looking for anything, just being nosy.
When I make my way down the hall, I notice his bedroom door is open and I hear the shower running. Slipping inside, I look around the space.
There’s a king size bed in the middle of the room. It’s unmade and the gray linens are rumpled. I have to resist the urge to straighten the comforter as I make my way to his nightstand. Sitting on top are two framed pictures.
One is of a couple I would guess to be somewhere in their twenties. The woman is holding a baby while the man has a toddler propped on his hip. It doesn’t take me long to realize the little boy is Harris. Even at such a young age, his features are unmistakable.
A sad smile crosses my lips. How awful to lose both of your parents. I try to imagine my life without my mom and dad, and the thought alone makes me want to shrink into a ball and cry hysterically.
I set the picture down and reach for the second. This one is much more recent. Harris looks almost the same as he does now, except in the photograph he’s clean shaven instead of sporting the short beard I’ve become accustomed to seeing him with. He has his arm around a guy who looks like him – same hair color, same naturally tanned complexion – only the other guy is a bit shorter and stockier than Harris. I don’t have to guess who this is. I know by looking at him, and by the camo outfit he’s wearing, that this must be Everett.
“Find anything interesting?” Harris’ voice causes me to jump and I turn to find him standing in the doorway of his bathroom, a white towel wrapped around his waist.
I swallow hard, not able to stop my eyes from traveling the length of him. My god, this man...
“Sorry, I was just looking around.” How did I not notice that the shower had shut off? “You know, you really should make your bed.” I point to where his pillows and comforter are strewn on top of the mattress.
“Why?” He props his shoulder against the doorway and crosses his arms in front of his bare chest.
“Because it makes the room look tidier,” I state the obvious.
“And I would care about that why?”
“So when you have guests over...” I clear
my throat, my mind jumping to all the women he’s probably had in this room.
“Well, considering you’re the only one that’s been here since I moved in, I don’t think it much matters. Besides, had I known you were coming over beforehand, I would have made the bed.”
“What do you mean no one has been here?”
“I moved here six months ago and I don’t make it a habit of bringing people over.”
“You expect me to believe that you’ve never brought a woman into this apartment?” I give him a disbelieving look.
“Whether you believe it or not, it’s true. My private space is just that. Private.”
“And yet here I am.” I hold out my arms.
“That’s different.”
“How?”
“When I...” He rubs the back of his neck like he’s not sure how to phrase what he’s about to say next. “When I meet up with a woman, we always go back to her place.”
“So I’m different because...”
“Because I don’t want to only fuck you.” His words cause a shiver to run through my body. “I mean, I do.” He laughs to himself. “But that’s not all I want from you.”
“But that’s what you wanted from all the others?” I question.
“Not necessarily but in a way, yeah. I guess. I never go into something thinking it will be only another hookup. It just usually ends up that way.”
“What do you want from me, Harris?” I question, not able to meet his eyes.
I hear his feet pad across the floor moments before his hand slides under my chin, lifting my face to his. “Everything.” He leans down and kisses me. “I want everything,” he whispers against my lips.
“Harris, I...” I don’t know what to say. Me, the person who has a comeback for nearly everything, is at a loss for words.
“I know what you’re thinking.” He pulls back, brushing my hair over my shoulder. “But I’m not just trying to win a bet, Blue. I’m trying to win you.”
“Why?” I croak, not able to think of one good reason why a guy like him would want someone like me. He’s gorgeous and funny and smart and I’m me. Boring, simple Blue.
“Why?” He blinks like he’s confused by the question.
“Why me?”
“You know, I’ve asked myself that question several times since the first time we met. Why can’t I stop thinking about her? Why does every other woman pale in comparison to her? Why does it feel like a dagger to my chest every time she looks at me with disgust in her eyes? Why? What is it about this girl that’s so different? What is it about this girl that makes me question everything? And you know what I’ve come up with?”
“What?” The single syllable word nearly strangles me.
“Because you’re you. You’re beautiful and yet you have no idea. You’re funny and witty. You can pop off a comeback in no time flat. You’re strong and you don’t take an ounce of shit from anyone. You’re sweet, even when you try to hide it. Your laugh is the most infectious sound I’ve ever heard. And when you smile, I swear it could bring me to my knees. You’re different than all the others because there is no one else out there like you. You understand me in a way I don’t think anyone ever has before. You see past my smoke screen, even when you try to act like you don’t. I’ve never met someone who’s made me feel the way you have. In the last eight days you’ve completely upended my entire world and at the end of the day, whether you stay or whether you go, you have changed me in ways I don’t think I could even begin to explain.”
His hands reach up and cup my face, his thumbs softly stroking my cheeks as he stares down at me.
I’m at a loss. I have no words. No witty come backs. Nothing. I’m frozen, unable to move or speak. My heart is thumping so loudly in my chest I wouldn’t be surprised if Harris can hear it.
I’ve never had someone look at me the way Harris is right now, and it’s as terrifying as it is exhilarating.
“I... um,” I stutter, making a split-second decision that I know will alter the course of our entire relationship as we know it. “I’m sorry.” I stare at him for a long moment. “I’m sorry, but it looks like you’re about to lose a bet.” I watch the realization appear on his face when my hands drop to his waist.
I pull open the towel with ease and let it drop to the floor. His eyes grow dark and his nostrils flare as he tries to control his breathing.
“Blue.”
“Shhh.” I hold a finger to his lips. “No talking.” I replace my fingers with my lips and kiss him. Not slow and soft like before but deep and hungry.
He groans into my mouth as his fingers find the hem of my shirt. It’s over my head and on the floor before I have time to process the movement.
He steps toward me, forcing me backward. The backs of my legs hit the bed seconds before I go tumbling onto the soft bedding, Harris coming down with me.
He kisses my neck, nipping and tasting as he works his way down to my chest. Sliding the material of my bra to the side, he pulls a nipple into his mouth and sucks, hard. I groan at the contact and the pleasure that ripples through me when he repeats the process on my other breast.
“Fuck. You’re so beautiful,” he says, kissing his way down to my belly button and then back up again. “You have no idea how many times I’ve dreamt of this moment.” He nips at my earlobe, sliding it in between his teeth as he settles between my legs.
“Harris.” My voice comes out breathy.
“Tell me this is what you want.” He grinds against me, the feeling of his stiff erection pressing into my center enough to drive me wild.
“I want this,” I reassure him, plunging my tongue into his mouth when his face comes back to mine. “I want you,” I murmur against his lips.
Without warning, he pushes up but before I can protest the loss of his touch, his hands slide down to my waist, his fingers making quick work of the button and zipper of my jeans. Peeling them off of my legs, he stares down at me for a long moment; his eyes sweeping over my soft pink lace bra and matching panties.
He drinks me in like I’m a tall glass of water on a scorching summer day. I’m overwhelmed by the way this makes me feel.
He takes his time slowly drawing my panties down my legs before helping me out of my bra. It isn’t until I’m laying beneath him, completely bare, that reality starts to seep in.
Harris-freaking-Avery. I’m about to have sex with Harris-freaking-Avery. And even though the thought should freak me out, it doesn’t. I know I’ve spent the last six months claiming to hate this man, but if I’m being honest, I don’t think I ever actually hated him.
I found reasons not to like him, even though he had never done anything to me. Why? I don’t know. Maybe it was because everyone fawned over him or because it wasn’t me he was fawning over.
Have I liked him this entire time but am now realizing it? Did my jealousy manifest itself into dislike?
Whatever it was, that feeling is long gone now. All that hate I thought I carried has morphed into something much, much stronger. Lust.
I want him. And I’m not ashamed to take what I want.
He kisses me everywhere. My feet, my knees, my thighs. His soft lips brush up and down my skin like a skilled artist painting a masterpiece.
When his mouth hits my core, I buck upward, every nerve ending in my body zinging to life. I shamelessly beg for him not to stop, and he’s more than happy to oblige.
My orgasm comes within minutes, without warning, ripping through me like a tornado. My mind and body spiral in a million different directions all at once, leaving me feeling like I may never come back to the ground again.
“I want you right now.” I reach for him as the waves of ecstasy continue to pulse through me.
As mind blowing as that was, I have a feeling it won’t hold a candle to what it will feel like to have him buried deep inside of me.
Harris leans across me, snagging a condom out of his nightstand before making quick work of rolling it on. When he settles between my legs, I’m
not sure if I’m more nervous or excited. I’ve never felt such an array of emotions before. The push and pull. The uncertainty. The need.
His weight is at my entrance, but he doesn’t push forward. Instead he stills, staring down at me like he can’t believe I’m here. I know the feeling. I feel like someone needs to pinch me to prove to myself that I’m not dreaming.
Leaning forward, he presses his mouth to mine, then in one hard thrust, enters me from tip to root.
I cry out, the feeling of being stretched to the brink enough to make tears prick the backs of my eyes.
Harris’ movements start out slow and controlled, but it doesn’t last long. We’re both too desperate, too hungry for each other. We claw and bite, scream and moan. Each thrust harder and harder until I’m not sure which of us will break first.
Like before, my orgasm comes out of nowhere. Only instead of fast and hard, it builds slow and is so intense I’m certain that at any moment my body and soul are going to disconnect and I’m going to float away.
I’ve never felt anything like it and I’m quite certain I never will again.
“Harris.” I bite down on his shoulder in an effort to contain the scream that rips from my throat as I explode around him.
Everything goes blurry. My eyes water, my ears ring, and my entire body clenches around Harris as wave after wave crashes over me. He picks up speed, chasing his own release, when another orgasm rips through me.
My entire body spasms in the sweetest pleasure I’ve ever felt. Harris falls right along with me, a deep groan escaping his throat as he spills his release into the condom.
His movements slow until he collapses on top of me, and the weight of him is exactly what I need to pull me down from the cloud that I’m floating on.
We lay there for several moments, both of us breathing heavy, neither of us speaking. I trail my fingers lightly up and down his smooth back, trying to process what the hell just happened.
I knew sex with Harris would be good. One look at the guy and you can tell he’s good in bed. But I never imagined it would be that good.
Violets are not Blue Page 9
