.Perfect Fantasy. |H.S.|

Chapter 38. Adrenaline.

"We can't stay here, it's not safe!" Sean said firmly and I tried to read his expression, squinting into the hammering water as he pointed at the narrow road that'd barely hold two vehicles.

"But the tir—"

"You'll need to drive very very slowly with those lights on and pray that the tire makes it to the house."

I looked at the metal part on his hand and nodded, walking back until we reached for the door handle, and making my way inside, my mind settled in keeping the warning lights; snapped on my seat belt and ordered Natalia to fasten hers. The air inside was warm but not enough to calm the cold from my clothes sticking to my skin, the silence feeling so thick and smothering I couldn't breathe.

We drove for a couple minutes, in a tense motion as the wipers kept their steady rhythm. I was lucky there were not many drivers around, but the thought of changing the tire was driving me insane.
I had no idea how to do it.

Once on the open road, the car devoured the distance without a fuss, the only difference was the small amount of tension that the ruined tire was creating; the wipers showed the narrowed entry that was guarded by some large trees looking a little empty in the current weather, but after the three-hour drive I'd just made, I was ready to kiss the lonely sidewalk that led to the door. I pulled the car right in front of the main door and turned off the ignition. For a minute, I sat in the silent car, resting my forehead on the steering wheel, grateful that we were home.

Not one word was said as we climbed the rest of the way in silence, broken only by doors opening and closing, our footsteps echoing against the entrance steps and the sound of the keys that I was holding in my hands.
By the time I managed to find the right one, Natalia was as soaked as we were.
I felt terrible, but she didn't seem to mind.

I opened the door at the top of the steps, holding it to the side for them to get inside. The house had that particular smell I recognized and everything felt safe at once; sinking down onto the sofa and letting my head fall against the cushion while I rested my body for a minute, the sounds around me very precise—Sean was propping our bags against the back of some door.

"Do you think it's going to take us a lot of time to change the tire?" I asked him straight away, my thumb rubbing against the band on my index finger ring.

"Not if you help me."

"Sean..."

He sighed, long and loud, like he knew where this was going, "Harry..."

"I don't know how to change a tire..."

He huffed out what was supposed to pass for laughter. "That's not a surprise."

"Oh that felt good," I was trying to look confident and convincing, but couldn't help but feel a little relief, my hand splaying across my forehead in an obvious fun answer. "Getting that off my chest." I joked and he laughed, making me feel a tiny speck of pride at his concealed amusement. "Okay, then, let's go get dry clothes, food, and we'll figure all out in the morning, I don't know much but I can definitely help out."

So Sean agreed for me to cook dinner, and turning on his heel, he grabbed his bag before jogging upstairs, where he strode into his usual bedroom and closed the door behind him with a soft click.

Leaning back against the padded leather, I exhaled loudly, noticing the lack of Natalia or her bag, no sounds around me, not even a signal that she was upstairs, and I made my way around searching for her—checking all the rooms, crossing the kitchen, looking out the windows to the garden—until I found a loud noise of water streaks shaking some smaller windows. The sight of a semi opened door and some bright light from a room with a lot of folded towels made me stop, her back was to me and her hair was wilder than ever, a part of it plastered to her face, while the other side was sticking out in all directions.

She lifted her head as if she knew I was there, and my heart tripped while she un-tucked her legs from her jeans and stood, wearing only her damp button up shirt. No scarf or jumper.

My breath caught, I could almost see her under the thin fabric of her clothes.
And through the crack of the door, she turned and our eyes met.

***

.Natalia.

I felt a jump scare at the fact that Harry was right outside. We stared at each other, but the air refused to leave my body, like he'd sucked all of it from the atmosphere until my lungs burned and felt raw. So much for a quick change of clothes.
Maybe it was the adrenaline from the day, but he looked almost predatory and dangerous, also strangely exquisite. I licked my lips, holding on for dear life to the travel bag, blood thundering in my ears at the way he was staring me down, drowning out all common sense from the tiny room.

"Where's Sean?" I asked him, clearing my throat like a dumbass, cause there was nothing subtle about it.

"Upstairs," He licked his bottom lip, pressing his lips into a hard and decisive glance. He took my hand, pulling me further inside and shutting the door behind us.

And then his hands were on me, gripping my hips and backing me up against the counter on top of the laundry machinery, lifting me up like I weighed nothing to him. Thick heavy hands slid slowly up the flesh of my shirt and then my neck, the softest fingertips sending shivers up my spine, both of us breathing loudly into each other, just as his lips followed and touched mine.

One, two times he rubbed his lips in a steady motion, my body going haywire, with all of the emotions and pent-up tension from the past week tangling into one complicated, and really freaking intense heat that settled right in my body. Especially when his hands smoothed down his own chest, teased across his stomach, and—oh fuck yes—right over the front of his wet grey hoodie and shirt, lifting both of them up at the same time and throwing them away. For a brief moment, I felt frustrated at having only one useful hand as I let my fingers trace the hard ridge of him through his denim and pulling the edge of it to me, yanking him with a need to see if he was getting the idea.

He followed my hand with his eyes as if he'd heard my thoughts, and before I could say a thing, his zipper was down, pants around his ankles, and my hand was firmly wrapped around him through the band of his tight boxers. I felt him bucking against my fingers, as I cradled him and stroked from base to tip, opening my eyes in surprise at the size of him but also holding myself in place from looking down in curiosity; because the sight in front of me was enough to keep me from looking elsewhere.

Harry's eyes were closed and his head was hanging close to mine, the strands of his hair all over his face and his lips were glistening as he breathed in and out to my touch.
The sexiest thing I'd ever seen in my whole damn life.

"Slow the fuck down," he growled, my hand squeezing lightly, earning a moan that had me wanting to breathe hard and uneven. Grabbing my wrist with his big hand, he stopped me and for several intense breaths, we stared, kind of afraid that if either of us moved, even an inch of friction would set us off into a point of no return.

"I don't want to slow down," I murmured entranced in the way he licked his lips and looked at me. The gasp that escaped my lips caused my own breath to quicken, giving me a tiny shake of his head. But I just looked up at him determinedly, at how those green eyes narrowed, frustrated...and then, as he kept staring at me, I saw his expression change.

"Did you hear that?"

I licked my lips, breathing hard. "Hear what?"

We both fell silent, and in the heavy-breathing heat of the moment, a steady noise was happening right in the kitchen, probably a pot or the stove being shoved by utensils, making me realize that the situation was bordering on hopeless.

"Sean..."

"Right, Sean..."

I wanted to fucking kill him.