Afterlife: Redemption

6

HARRY

I leaned back in my chair, a sigh of contentment leaving me that caused her to giggle.

"Was it good?" she asked, pulling her long, slender leg up onto the chair to curl into herself. It was something I noticed she did a lot. She could never just sit like a normal person. She always had to have her legs pulled close to her, arms wrapped around them, as if she was shielding herself. It was a cute little quirk, usually. But since her current attire was nothing more than one of my oversized t-shirts, the hem rising along her leg to fall dangerously close to exposing her, her little quirk turned me on.

"Very," I smiled, leaning over to kiss her temple. "You are a much better cook than me. I think you'll be the resident cook around here from now on."

Her eyes narrowed at me playfully. "I don't think so," she countered. "You boys are on your own."

"Leaving us to our own devices of pizza and beer, are you, love?"

"Basically," she laughed, stretching her arms over her head. Again, the movement was enticing without her even meaning for it to be. Her full breasts rose, my shirt cupping around them, the hem still rising up slightly to show the curve of her bum as it sat on the chair.

My eyes roamed her, and I couldn't ignore the hunger I felt. It was no longer the need for food, but for her.

She didn't even have to try, and she was gorgeous. I had never noticed this feature in any other girl I had known. Some would pile on the makeup, layering on a fake face that looked nothing like their true selves. I hated that. It was false advertising at its best. Which was yet another one of the millions of things I loved about Lane. She never wore makeup, she never tried to be sexy. She just was.

Ignorant to my ogling her, she pushed up from her chair, collecting our plates and taking them to the sink. Placing them on the counter, she started to fill the sink with water. When she bent over to peer into the cupboard under the sink, my shirt pulling up over the curve of her ass to expose her, I couldn't stand to wait any longer.

I needed her.

I all but flew out of my chair, coming up behind her. I pressed myself against the back of her, reaching around and turning the water off, ceasing the flow into the sink. She turned to face me, her eyes quizzical. The moment she looked up to me, I placed my hands on her cheeks, and pressed my lips to hers.

She tasted like maple syrup.

I kissed her deeply, my tongue tracing along the soft skin of her lower lip, before urging them apart with my own. I felt her smile, her arms reaching up to link behind my neck. Reaching down I pulled her against me, loving the feel of her body. My fingers played with the hem of my shirt, teasing the skin of her hips where it fell.

Pulling back from me, she grinned. "Coming to help me with the dishes?" she teased.

"Fuck the dishes," was my response, as I picked her up clear off her feet, causing her to squeal. I loved how small she was, how easily I was able to pick her up and place her where I wanted.

Turning, I placed her on the edge of the table, nudging her knees apart with my hips. Once situated, I pulled her against me, forcing a slight moan from her lips. All that separated us was the thin material of my boxers. I kissed her hard, my tongue tracing her lips, exploring her mouth and how delicious she tasted. I almost sighed as her fingers ran through my hair, pulling gently. I fucking loved that feeling almost as much as I loved the feeling of her body.

My hands traced along her skin, relishing in how soft it was. Slowly, I raised my shirt up over her head, pulling away from her just long enough to remove it completely before throwing it across the room.