Sit (The Shores Book 1)

by Allie York

  “Working overnight is a good excuse,” Ozma burrowed under my arm, leaning against me, “Rick and I were just talking about the funding being approved for the Center.” Rick was eyeing me with daggers, but I just smiled at my girl snuggled up next to me. Ozma had every man she knew eating out of her palm, but had no damn clue. It would have made me more jealous if I didn’t get to see the side no one else saw. I got the Ozma who cried over puppies, who could solve a puzzle faster than anyone, and showed affection so willingly. Rick could give me death glares and flirt all day. I had Ozma, so nothing else mattered.

  Nothing progressed past those kisses that left me begging for more, but I told Ozma I could be patient, and I was. No matter how long it took, or how many cold showers, or how many times I had to jerk off when I got home, I’d wait. The woman turned me into an instant pussy, but I was her pussy. My security in our relationship would have been stronger if we crossed that one final line, but Ozma was more than content just how things were, so I had to be too if I planned to keep her.

  “It’s gonna be a nice place. Big outdoor runs and a whole surgery center. We need that shelter, bad.” Rick added his two cents, and patted Duncan as he ran past. The three of us slipped into an awkward silence until Rick pushed off the fence, “I’m on call tonight so I better get home. If you change your mind, Ozzy, let me know.” Rick patted her arm, gave me a nod, and hooked Duncan to his leash. We watched him leave the park with his bouncing dog. I silently wished Rick would meet a moving vehicle.

  “What is he trying to change your mind about?” I kept my arm tight around her shoulders, unwilling to let her get away from me just yet. Rick still made me a little crazy and possessive. Especially when he showed up places like the dog park at the exact time we were meeting. It happened a lot and I had a feeling Blair was inadvertently to blame. The girl had the tendency to talk, a lot, and word always seemed to get back to Rick.

  “Volunteering at The Shores,” Ozma slid an arm around my waist, “He wants me to come help Saturday nights, but I really like my sleep.” And there is no way in hell I’m letting you work alone with Rick. “I finished your puzzle.” She handed me her phone and showed me a picture of our Hangman game I left on her windshield early that morning. The theme was books, and the answer was ‘Grapes of Wrath.’ Most of the time she got the answer instantly, but that one took her a few guesses. A head, body and arm.

  “I’m going to stump you eventually,” I promised, kissing her head. Barely a month into dating, I was in love, but hadn’t told her yet. It went against my nature in the worst way, but if I had Ozma by my side, I would wait an eternity to make sure she was comfortable. We went to dinner, bowling, and the park. I stayed at her house when she worked the emergency clinic with me, but I kept our relationship on the cusp of intimate. The waiting game would be the end of me. I wanted to own every inch of her so badly, it hurt, but kept my distance. Distance between my cock and every bit of her was no easy task the way she hung all over me. I really deserved a fucking medal for my self-control.

  “You can try, but I think you, Dr. Oswin, have met your match,” Ozma stood on her toes to kiss me, hooking her fingers behind my neck.

  “I think you might be right.” I made a point to stare into those beautiful brown eyes when I said it, hoping she got my point. Her cheeks tinged pink and she nibbled her bottom lip. All I needed to do was keep Rick from trying to take things that would never belong to him, and somehow survive the constant state of being hard and horny as hell Ozma kept me in.

  Ziggy in tow, we made it to the rescue center right on time for the event and parked next to Jax’s truck. Ziggy followed us across the lot, prancing like he owned the place. When Ozma saw the line of people waiting, she grabbed my arm, bouncing. Everyone there was ready to pay five dollars for a dog wash and nail trim to raise money to buy the new shelter’s dog beds. It was a pretty sobering sight to see all those people lined up to support the center.

  Ozma put on an apron and followed Lyric to her station to help with bathing, and Porter watched her as she walked away, “You look happy.” Porter crossed his arms.

  “I am,” I turned to my best friend and watched him look me over.

  “But?”

  There was a ‘but’, a huge one, “She doesn’t trust me,” Porter tipped his head for me to follow him into the main doors, “The men she’s had the misfortune of meeting have been assholes, and I’m pretty sure I’m getting lumped in with them.” It was a conversation for my mother, but the awkwardness of talking to my mom about my relationship meant Porter was the new shrink in my life. I was not having sex talks with my mom, shrink or not.

  “Are you saying she won’t have sex with you? Poor, poor, Harris isn’t getting any.” Porter gave me a pouty look and I flipped him off.

  “It’s more than that. I wanna keep her, Porter,” That changed his taunting real quick.

  “Are we having this conversation? Does this make us bros? I can’t believe Harris Oswin wants to settle down.” I glared at him, but he gave it right back, and I finally broke. I nodded and he laughed, “Man, that is not what I expected. So, make your move. Put a ring on it or whatever she wants, then tell her you’re gonna need that pussy.” Porter elbowed me.

  I shook my head, “It’s not that simple, I can’t push her like that. It’s not just getting my dick wet.” I leaned against the wall, a little relieved to have someone to unload on. My mom being a shrink meant I learned early on to keep things to myself, or get my brain picked in the worst way, but I needed help with Ozma.

  “I understand,” Porter leaned next to me in the hall, “But maybe she doesn’t view you as serious, like she thinks you’re just having fun. Just push it a little and feel her out, sometimes women can be dense, Harry, and need a little coaxing. Find the opening and go for it.” Porter patted my shoulder and left me to think about what he said. I had a million nail trims to take care of, but wanted to stay against the wall and try to figure out a way for Ozma to be tied to me entirely without scaring the shit out of her. It’s not like I could just beg her to marry me... not yet.

  I walked up behind where Ozma and Lyric were chatting and drying a dog. Without trying, I eavesdropped on the perfect conversation, “What the hell is wrong with you?” Lyric looked down at Ozma like she had just told her the sky was red, so I hung back, listening.

  “Nothing,” Ozma glared, “Just because I don’t jump in bed with every man I meet, doesn’t mean something is wrong with me.” She let the yellow lab lick up her face, “I’m not sure he even wants sex. It’s been a month and he seems content.”

  “Are you blind? He looks at you like Ziggy looks at Ben and Jerry’s. Plus, he’s a guy.” The two girls stared each other down, “And I don’t jump in bed with every man. It’s been months since I met anyone worth getting naked for, but Harris is gorgeous, and you’re crazy for not taking advantage of it. He gives you the look and you know it.”

  Ozma turned her back on Lyric, “When does construction start?” I had just walked into a very similar conversation to the one I had with Porter, only ours was the opposite. Maybe it was time to do a little pushing.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Ozma

  I leaned my head back on Harris’ shoulder, pulling the blanket up a little higher. I was not ready to turn the heat on yet, mostly because chilly weather made me happy, but it also meant that Harris and I got to cuddle under a blanket. Any excuse I had to get close to him in private, I took, even if nothing ever came of it. We were laid back on the loveseat, my back pressed into his chest. His arms circled my waist, his legs bracketing mine. I was starting to think that Harris had a medical condition. It was like his dick was always hard, but the guy never made a move, ever. I even made slightly suggestive comments, but still nothing. I ignored it and snuggled down into him. The movie started and his hand slid under my shirt, resting innocently on my stomach. It had bothered me in the beginning, making me self-conscious, but with twelve pounds gone and Harris constantly telling me h
ow beautiful I was, those thoughts were hardly around anymore. Harris’ voice in my head yelled so much louder than my judgmental father’s.

  There had been plenty of nights camped on the couch, watching movies, and playing Hangman, but Harris never pushed for more, and it frustrated me to no end. Not that I was sure about handing over my V-card to him just yet, but I wasn’t opposed to some fooling around. The guy could at least try more than “accidentally” grabbing my ass. I knew if he had pushed even just a little, I would bend willingly. Everything about him screamed safety and comfort, and to be honest, I was tired of waiting. Our relationship had been too innocent for too long. All the pent up sexual tension was getting to both of us and making us a little snippy with each other. Nothing scared me more than the idea of being mad at Harris, but if that line didn’t get crossed soon, drastic measures would have to come into play. I was tired of changing the battery in my vibrator. Even if it was just fooling around, something beyond earth-shattering kisses needed to happen, and fast.

  Harris kissed the top of my head, making me sigh. I tried to watch the movie, but the hard length in my back was making the difficult. As if reading my mind, he inched his hand from my stomach to my jeans, expertly popping the button open. The move shocked me and I felt my body tense. So much for not pushing it. I tipped my head slightly to look up at him. His warm lips moved along my temple as one hand moved to my bra and the other continued the path down to the elastic of my panties. I shuddered.

  “Cold?” His voice dropped an octave in my ear and I shook my head. My shuddering had nothing to do with cold. If anything, I was heating up. His fingers brushed dangerously close to parts unknown and I tensed again.

  “Harris,” My lips parted as the plea came out. I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to stop or keep going, but either way I sounded desperate. You are desperate.

  Harris bit gently at the lobe of my ear, making me break out in goosebumps, “I should be stressed about taking you to meet my mom tonight, or introducing you to my family at this stupid party, or working overnight, but I’m not,” I whimpered lightly when his hand cupped my breast, “Right now, all I care about is that you trust me enough to let me touch you.” The zipper of my jeans was worked down slowly, “Eventually, I’m going to take you home with me, lay you out on my bed, and devour every inch of you until you forget every name but mine. Right now, though, I just want to make you come. You going to let me?” Even if I wanted to say no, I truly doubted my body would have allowed it. I nodded once and he hummed a growl in my ear. The deep, throaty sound had my insides clenching and my panties soaked.

  With kisses trailing down my neck, his fingers gliding over the satin of my bra, and his other hand toying with my panties, I couldn’t form a single thought, much less talk. Oh, and the dirty words, promising things to come, had me ready to beg him. I trusted him with my life, and at some point, in the last six weeks, I had started falling in love. One hand stroked me just outside my panties, and the other pulled the satin of my bra down. When a single finger slid past the thin barrier of my panties, my whole body jerked and I gasped audibly. Calm your shit, Ozma. You’ve been begging for this for weeks.

  “Easy, Oz.” Harris abandoned my breasts to brace me against him with an arm around my stomach. He never called me anything other than Ozma, but sounded as breathless as I was when the nickname rumbled through him. His hips lifted slightly, grinding himself into my back. A soft whimpering sound came from somewhere in my throat. One finger turned into two and his pace picked up, making circles that sent an electric shock through me with each pass. My eyes closed and I moaned softly. “You are so fucking sexy like this, Oz.” Harris upped his game with more pressure, and I went into immediate sensation overload. His hands were all over, his lips on my ear, breathing delicious promises, and I was slowly coming undone.

  “Oh, God,” I whimpered, feeling the sensation building inside me. It started in my gut, and I tried to stay sane enough to enjoy each touch, every sensation. With his hands expertly hitting every spot I didn’t know existed, and his teeth on my neck, I jerked again, but didn’t get far with his arm holding me down.

  “You are so fucking tight,” Harris groaned in my ear. “So, fucking sexy.”

  My moan followed, “Please, just don’t stop.” Harris picked up the pace, his breath hitting my ear delicately as I was pushed over the edge into oblivion. His fingers curled and my world shattered into a million blissful fragments. I cried out, my back arched, and stars exploded behind my eyes. Ecstasy tore through every nerve, every fiber, as his hand brought me pleasure I never knew existed.

  I floated back slowly to earth, my mind finally came back together, and found myself tucked safely in Harris’ arms. His breathing was slightly labored, matching mine, and his lips were moving along the shell of my ear. The intimate gesture had tears filling my eyes. It was the worst possible time to cry, but my over emotional self couldn’t stop it.

  “Ozma?” Harris rolled me over on top of him so I was draped over him. He cupped my face and made me look at him. I wanted to hide from his panicked eyes, silently asking what he did wrong. Embarrassment hit me like a truck.

  “I’m fine,” It wasn’t a lie, but I looked like a damn liar as tears streaked my face. “I promise.” Harris didn’t ask any more questions, he just squeezed me to him tighter, soothing my emotional mess. I felt guilty when I was made aware of that spectacular erection pressing into my stomach, but even if I tried to please him, I would have no idea how to, so I would need a tutorial. My body was still tingling from the orgasm, my mind was all foggy, and I was feeling bold. Way too bold.

  “No one has ever done that for you, have they?” Harris wiped my face clean of the leftover tears as I shook my head. A smile took over his face. My hand slid down his chest and I rolled to the side, wedging between his big body and the back of the couch. When my hand flattened against his abs, I took in every dip and valley, every hard plane, and his hand topped mine, stopping my descent, “Why are you crying?” No talking, just touching.

  “That was amazing, and I’m a crier. Everything makes me cry. How have you not noticed?” I stated it simply, jerking my hand from under his and brushing against the waist of his pants, seeking the jackpot. Being a virgin didn’t mean I was completely naïve; I had seen dicks, not up close and personal, but what girl hasn’t watched some porn? Being a virgin did mean I had no idea what I was doing when it came to real life. Harris sucked in a sharp breath and closed his eyes. I watched him for a moment, ensuring myself that I was making the right decision, before tugging at the button of his jeans.

  Harris stopped me again and I let out a frustrated groan, “Not that I haven’t been wanting this since we met, but don’t feel obligated to do anything.” I didn’t feel obligated. I felt high and euphoric from the world’s most amazing orgasm, I felt like if I didn’t get to touch him soon I might combust, and I felt like Harris was the man I would give everything to. Obligated wasn’t even in my vocabulary.

  “Just show me what you like,” I felt my face turn red as I said it, but it had to be said. I wanted to please him, wanted him to feel as worshiped as I felt.

  “You’re going to be the death of me,” The deep words vibrated through his chest as I unzipped the jeans and met his eyes while he watched me undress him. It was the sexiest thing I had ever seen, and I was drunk on the glazed look he gave me. I shut my mind off, let my body take over, and shoved his shirt up, exposing his rippled abs and chest. I licked and nipped at his skin, my chest rubbing against his dick until I peeled back his navy boxers and his eyes rolled back. Oh, sweet Jesus. Trying to hide how impressed I was with his size was totally pointless, but his eyes were closed so I gawked. I ran one palm from base to tip, loving how velvety soft it was.

  Harris tensed, “Fuck, Ozma.” His big hand took mine, placing it on his girth, and wrapping my hand around it tight. Harris moved his hips, pumping into my hand and groaning. Getting the idea, I stroked him, squeezing slightly and his hand left mine to gr
ip the couch. “Faster.” His tight voice made me smile. I was happy to oblige, and when a drop of pre-cum appeared at the head, I leaned down and licked it without even thinking. Some greedy side of me needed to experience all of Harris. Smell, touch, and even taste. It was salty and I was instantly high on the flavor. Harris’ hand suddenly knotted in my hair and he jerked my head back. The completely feral look in his eyes had me smiling, “Unless you plan on sucking my cock, don’t tease me like that,” The movement and slight pain turned me on way too much. Harris looked at me like he would be more than happy to let me do just that, but just kept my hair knotted around his fingers and his hooded eyes locked on mine. My hand kept pumping, he squeezed my head to his exposed chest, and a growl tore from his throat as his release coated my hand and his defined stomach. I watched in complete fascination until Harris shuddered and relaxed. His heavy breathing matched mine and tiny tremors ran through him a couple of times.

  The movie credits snapped me from my lust, “We’re going to be late to that party,” I tried to sit up, but Harris kept me against him.

  “I’m pretty sure you were put on this earth just for me,” Harris grumbled, still breathing heavy. My heart and ego swelled a little. Not that he was shy about liking my attention, but those words were getting awfully close to the magic words. Every little girl, especially ones with shitty parents, dreamed of their prince charming and whisking them away on a white horse. Unless I was with my grandparents, ‘I love you’ was not thrown around in my world. I was dying to hear him say it.

  “I want to make a good impression with your mom, not a late one, come on,” I kissed his chest, right in the center of the patch of red hair, and resisted the urge to look him over one more time as I left the room. Harris laid very still for a second before I heard him getting up. To be honest, I was a little embarrassed by the whole incident. Incredibly hot and embarrassed. It was naughty, and sexy, and I wanted so much more. My father’s words weaseled into my brain, calling me a slut and a whore. I could hear him telling me he knew I was just like my mother. I heard him as a little voice in my head telling me that getting some guy off on the couch after dating for a month was something Dorothy would do, so I was a slut too. I shook it off. Dad went on a rampage rant after his therapist called him an egomaniac, maybe not in those words, but it was hard to deny his superiority complex. He called the poor therapist a bitch for weeks later. I’ve waited my entire life for someone like Harris, and after weeks of pent up sexual frustration, we deserved that release.