Intent 2: Fight or Flight [Wattys 2017] (ON HOLD)

Chapter 22

Always a gentleman. A smug bastard at times but still a gentleman.

It feels right but it is so so wrong.

Emma, you need to stop this.

But I don't.

Instead I relish in the kiss but I want more. I want the closeness and I want the passion and by the way he's kissing me, so does he. This much is evident when, with agonizing slowness, one of his arms slinks around my waist, tugging me closer.

Without denying myself any longer, I link my arms around his neck and pull him closer, the feel of his warm torso pressed up against mine, my skin hot like I'm still basking in the sun. Without warning, his tongue slinks between my lips, the kiss getting sinfully deep. Swear, it is like this damn boy has a direct line to the bundle of nerves between my thighs.

I have no choice but to clutch onto him harder and pull him ontop of me.

The weight of his body on top of mine is the most reassuring thing in the whole world. Harry is warm and firm and exactly what I want but he isn't what I need.

And still I bath in the mindless bliss that comes with his lips on mine and his hands on my hips.

I've always loved him hands, so big and strong and yet so gentle and tentative. Goosebumps spring up all over the place and I am reduced to a body of nerves firing off electric currents left right and center.

It's a magical experience, I tell you.

His lips leave mine and then not a moment later attache onto my neck, lightly sucking on the spot just below my ear. But Harry being Harry that is never enough for him as he roams around the area, my jaw, my collarbone, my neck... everywhere.

But without the distraction of his lips on mine, I have time to think, time for my brain to clear and fully realize what is going on.

At the end of the day Harry really knows nothing about me. It's a silly concept seeing as we grew up together and have been best friends for the last few years but he doesn't know the things that matter, the things that have shaped me into this confusing, emotionally reserved woman I am today.

I wish I could have told him. I was so close but I didn't have time to tell him anything. Not my past and not what happened after the breakup. And at this point what would be the use of telling him anything?

The information would just do harm to both of us. Better to leave things the way they are and go our separate ways.

Right?

Gently he kisses my neck and starts undoing the buttons of my shirt at an alarmingly skillful and speedy rate. And just like before, when he said he didn't remember that night, I stall.

This needs to stop. I need to stop this.

But he is too intoxicating. I feel the deep seeded pull towards him and I know he feels it as well. He's trying to hid it from me but he is aroused and if this were a normal day, Harry would be unapologetically grinding his member against my soft spot at this very moment.

And then it hits me, clear as day.

We are barely wearing any clothing. It would take very little for us to strip out of our swimsuits and take this into the bedroom and fuck like rabbits.

"Harry." I mumble as his lips delicately yet generously nip and succle my neck.

"Yes baby." Harry's voice sounding as sultry and and raspy as ever.

Not what I was going for.

"Say my name."

Certainly not what I was going for.