Chapter 38.

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This is me needing Jesus.

This is me needing Jesus

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I'm telling you

That these feelings won't go away
They've been knockin' me sideways
They've been knockin' me out lately
Whenever you come around me
These feelings won't go away"

The anticipation in my belly swirls around my organs like a vice as I stare back at him, and I'm starting think maybe Harrys confidence is rubbing off on me, because for once I don't feel like shying away from him.

He massages my thighs giving them an assuring squeeze before he gestures his head "Need you to hop off for a second baby"

My stomach flips over how he says that, baby. No matter how many times he says it, I still feel giddy, I could never get sick of hearing it.

I chew nervously on my lip as I crawl off of him, and he keeps his eyes on me the whole time.

Everything with Harry is always so new and exciting, exilerating, and I don't know how I'd go back to the life I had before where everything was predictable and seems so boring now.

Harry runs his hand down my side slowly when I kneel next to him, waiting to see what he's planning or wants to do.

I hope one day I'm confident enough to not have to wait for instructions, but letting him be in control also thrills me at the same time.

He hooks his finger into the hem of my panties, pulling them back and releasing them so the snap against my skin as his hand goes down to palm himself over the buldge in his thin trousers and I suck in a breath watching him.

"Take them off for me" he orders, tracing his eyes over me as they become darker with every inch of skin they drink in.

Okay, so maybe I spoke too soon about not wanting to shy away from him.

My skin heats as I work up my bravery, feeling my heart thump, and slide my thumbs into the sides of my cotton underwear and drag them down, darting my eyes away from him as I shuffle to pull them off and toss them onto the bed.

Harry's hand immediately smooths over my bare hip and around to my behind while I adjust to kneeling next to him, and I look to him to see his drunk eyes locked on my face.

I hold my breath and my eyes go wide when I see Harry hook his other hand into his sweatpants, and pull them down, watching them slip past his defined hips until his hard length hits against his stomach.

My pulse jack hammers in my body while I watch him kick off his pants, and I dig my nails into the skin of my thighs to stop the whimper that wants to leave my throat.

My nerves start firing in my skin as I swallow, trying to figure out where I should keep my eyes.

Is this really happening now? Are we about to have sex? Is that what he meant?

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