Harry.
"Get into your stance."
Leslie's fingers curl into fists and hunches into her defensive stance. My hands grab her waist to form her to face me better. This is the only day of the week I personally get to train her. All the other guys are with us every other day but today, it's just us. A few weeks have passed since my shitty mistake with that waitress and I still cringe at the thought of what I had done. It makes me sick.
"Left hook," I say, her left fist colliding with my hand. I tell her right hook and she repeats her action.
As I raise my right arm, I bring it down for her to block and she does with both arms. My left hand pokes her stomach and she laughs.
"Don't expose your middle. You probably would have died," I tell her, her lips frowning.
"I won't let that happen though," I smile, kissing her cheek quickly.
I raise my arm again and she protects her stomach, shielding her body from my light hits. Her bottom lip is incased between her teeth in concentration, both of us going back and forth blocking and receiving hits. I don't try for her sake, light touching her cheek if opportunity strikes.
"Hold," I say, her body standing tall again.
"Do you know how to flip?" I ask, her shoulders shrugging.
"I will demonstrate," I tell her, moving across the matt. I've never actually had a purpose to do a flip but I still know how to perform one.
My feet run and I crunch down, setting my hands on the ground. Pushing off, I flip and land with my knees bent and arms out.
"I can do that," she says, my body standing. Dark eyes watch as she moves to where I had stood previously, her hands shrugging off her jacket. Her fingers toss it and a tank top clings to her torso, my eyes unable to stray from her.
She starts to run and she forms her body to do a cartwheel, turning to flip her body. She executes a front flip and lands the same way I did, her body standing up.
"Damn, you're unstoppable," I tell her, her lips smiling.
"Gymnastics dude."
My head nods and I grab her waist, directing her towards one of the punching bags.
"This is for when a creature needs a kick in the face."
She laughs and nods, my feet moving her. She clarifies where to kick and I tell her the top 'x'.
"Ready?" She nods and I quickly lift her, her foot smashing into the 'x'. Before I set her down, I move her into my arms and press my lips to hers quickly.
"That was good," I comment, her lips smiling. As I put her down, my eyes watch her tan arms flex. She's getting muscle every time we come here and she could not get more attractive.
"Alright. You ready to fight?" I ask, her body turning around.
"You?" she asks, disbelief in her eyes.
"Yup. I'm not going to hit you though," I remind her, her shoulders shrugging. I lean down and get into stance, her body reciprocating mine.
She starts by moving her fist to my left side, me blocking it. She moves quickly, both of us working on our fighting. She's concentrating so hard, she looks as though she's getting any anger out. My guess is the last bit of anger she holds from Vanessa. Bloody bitch that waitress is.
As I stand here thinking about Leslie's jealousy, a hand comes to my chest. She pushes and ducks down, spinning her body down and her leg connects with mine. All balance leaves my body and I fall, Leslie crawling on top of me.
"How was that Big Bad Harry?" she smirks, my hands holding cheeks as she leans over me.
"Perfect."
Her fingers hold my sides and her lips press to my cheek, my eyes closing. Every minute I spend with her is another that leaves me breathless. She's breathtaking.
"Let's go again."
A nod in confirmation signals as she climbs off me, her soft digits holding mine in an attempt to help elevate me. My legs push up and she lets go of my hands, wrapping her toned arms around my neck.
Her ample lips release light breaths, my eyes focusing in on her soft features. The estranged feeling that she's breaking down my walls swells in my chest; feeling utterly compelled to her in reasons unknown.
But I want her.
"Will you weight lift with me?" I ask, her finger running over the small cut in my eyebrow adorned yesterday morning. My stupid action of crawling through her window in the pitch black had suddenly morphed into an atrocious cut. The window was stuck and it hit me square in the eyebrow.
"Sure," she smiles, my hands running up her sides. She has the softest skin ever felt under my fingers. Her tank is raised off her tan stomach slightly and I nudge her closer. My lips part and every breath she takes is made known on my lower lip.
An effort to restrain myself from kissing her fails for her lips land on mine, neither of us excelling in the field of passionate kisses. We barely kiss with our tongues, yearning for nothing more than a sweet affection I never knew I was missing.
Until Leslie.
When I look at her, all I ever want is to see her smile that tugs me out of the darkness. Every gentle caress she leaves to my body signifies her care and trustworthiness; my fears and hate fading when I'm near her. In the months I've known Leslie, we've opened up but not nearly as much as normal relationships. What we resolve through each other are privileges that we have ensured through safety and understanding. Leslie isn't hurtful or mean; she is the most stubborn yet adoring girl whom I've taking complete fascination in.
Leslie seems as though she knows what she wants and isn't afraid to be in tune with that. Her senses are sharp and every touch she inflicts onto my skin is as if she burns her fingertips into me. Her lips feel as though I'm on cloud nine and they reflect the same emotion as my kiss. Her ears listen to every word I say, even though the beginning of our relationship she only heard what she wanted. Those same ears listen to my broken sentences when I read and she still is flustered when I do so. Leslie's nose brushes mine whenever we kiss or touch foreheads, giving me a soft gesture of presence, trusting her that she's there.
Then her eyes. The beautiful green eyes that I adore. Her green orbs are like emeralds in the morning, looking into mine with complete light and beauty. They look like a forest during the day due to the flecks of brown incorporated throughout the green. When her eyes meet mine, there is never any fear or worry inflicted upon those irises; the only emotion shown is her compassionate care she holds towards me. Leslie's light eyes are the same color mine were the exact moment I was sent away from home. They have yet to convert back.
The hold I have on her is released, my arms wrapping around her body. Pressing my palms on the small of her back, she presses her chest to mine and continues her soft kiss. Liam probably didn't realize how much of a distraction we are to each other.
My hands unwrap around her and I pull away, grabbing the back of my shirt and pulling it over my head. She grabs my waist and starts to trail her lips along my collarbones.
"I want you," she whispers, my hands grabbing hers.
"W-Want me?" I barely register, her fingers touching my stomach.
"I want you Harry. More than anything," she whispers, etching her plump lips to my ear. Touches are soft to my skin, every part of my body alive with her touch.
"We're lifting later," I groan, grabbing our shirts and tugging her hand behind me. My mind is spinning and I place my shirt over my head, leading her out of the training room. Desperate thoughts of us run across my mind, suddenly feeling nothing but a pull towards Leslie.
The keys to my apartment are taken from my pocket and I feel soft lips trace my neck as I struggle through them. Leslie's actions are making me crazy. Crazy for her.
The correct key is shoved into the lock and a flash of blonde runs past me, Leslie already walking to my room with a devious smirk on her lips. My fingers fumble with the lock and I nearly rip my shirt off, stalking into my room. She kneels on the bed and she reaches for me, her soft palms caressing my cheeks as she kisses me.
"I want you too. Badly," I moan, her bare arms wrapping around my shoulders. Our actions are in complete infatuation with each other. For weeks, all we have been doing is denying we have developed feelings for each. I fear I like her way more than I care to admit. It's not love I feel because love is shit and it doesn't exist.
"Lay down," I tell her, her burning touch parting from my skin. Her eyes watch mine and she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, my whole body electrifying even more. Her little body is soon encased under mine, my knees crawling over her slowly.
She's the greatest possible mistake to ever happen to me. Meeting her was a freak accident that I hated with everything in me. Now, I don't want to go so much as a day without her.
Trembling lips press to mine, both of us heating up with every infliction left to each other. Lust pulses through me and there is nothing on my mind except the blonde girl I'm kissing. Her neck is smooth against my lips, her eyes closing as I feel her with my mouth.
She moves her hands to my biceps and lightly pushes me to be on my back, my eyes watching her hungrily. Leslie presses her hands to my chest as I bring my hands to her hair, untying the blonde locks and letting them fall around her flawless face.
Her lips press to every inch of my torso and my eyes close, trying to ignore every manly urge in my body. No girl has come close to making me feel so... aroused before. But Leslie's different. She's not touching me to force me; she's kissing any fear and pain away. It's beautiful.
Little lips are felt on my stomach, my muscles clenching at the pleasure coursing through me. Her eyelashes reside on her cheeks, concentration etched over her features. The button on my jeans is undone and her finger lightly run over my hips. tracing the v-lines. After one last kiss is pressed to my stomach, she lifts her head to reach my gaze. My eyes open momentarily to watch her, observing her actions. This is either going to be our first night actually sleeping together or we're going to do something similar. Either way, I'm not letting her leave me tonight. Or tomorrow. She's much more to me than a shitty one night stand like my mates have regularly. I want to protect her and only share those moments with her.
The expanse of my hands wrap around her waist and I pull her towards me, kissing her pink lips. All her touches are ones I reminisce on whenever we're apart. Her fingers lazily trace my chest, thumbs skimming along my nipples.
Her hands place on mine and I aide her in removing the white tank top, watching her chest move as she watches me. The moment becomes so real to me and her eyes never fall from mine; our attention on each other.
The light colored bra adoring her figure enables me to see her chest move, the action one that signals her quickened breathing. We're a hot mess.
She takes a minute to catch her breath and leans down, my arms wrapping around her. I take a moment and return her to her previous position, resting her head on the pillows as my puffy lips press to hers. Her hands grab mine and she moves my hands to her back, the warm skin hitting my rough hands. Instantly breaking the kiss as I feel her rest my fingers on her bra clasp, my eyes search hers for doubt.
"I trust you," are the words that fall form her lips, her eyes bright as she looks at me. I've never seen a girl before; bare, that is. Neither of us have any experience in this. Sure I learned about sex and shit, but I don't know how to actually do that. I'd be afraid I would hurt her. The woman who taught my anatomy class explained that men lose their virginity easier than girls. As in it's more pleasurable for men and not so much girls. Apparently girls are put through pain the first time and I know, more than anything, I don't want to hurt Leslie. But I want her to be my first, even though I don't know if I'm ready for sex myself.
Hesitant fingers release the clasp on her bra, my eyes watching hers with all the care in my heart. My fingers run down her arms, removing the material from her body slowly. She is allowing me to see her bare, something I should reciprocate for her.
My eyes catch sight of her chest for the first time, her eyes closing to relax the nerves away I'm sure. Every aspect of her torso is glowing; a girl her size perfectly proportioned. She's beautiful in words I can't find. She's better than words.
My lips liter kisses along her breasts, the soft skin utterly delicate under my touch. No harsh touch is left to her, not wanting her to shy away from me. A sharp intake of breath is taken through her lips and I feel an indent along her skin. My eyes flicker open, observing the long scar on the underside of her left breast all the way to her left side.
"Harry," she gasps, my eyes meeting hers. Knitting my eyebrows together, her eyes become glossy.
"What happened?" I question, my voice a whisper in the room. From the hurt in her eyes, my hand rummages the floor and I grab my tee from earlier, pulling it over her head.
"I guess I should tell you," she says, trying to hold her composure.
My hand grabs hers and my other runs mindlessly through her long hair, looking at her intently. A certain fear strikes my heart, watching her torn up about whatever is jumbled in her beautiful mind.
"You see, my life hasn't been glamorous or extraordinary. In fact, I was...born without a heartbeat," she whispers, looking into my eyes. The clench in my heart nearly makes me want to cry; Leslie wasn't alive at one point in her life.
"I was taken into the operating room immediately and they performed heart surgery on a newborn. My life was on the line and the doctors told my parents I wasn't supposed to live past five years old. My parents were so protective over me and I was perfectly fine. They used to watch my brother and me play as if nothing is wrong. But it was when I was eight that I was at school and had the breakdown," she says, my eyes watching her closely. My intentions on her were to treat her as if she was my girl; not to find her scar and the secrets behind the misplaced skin. Hearing her pain though, I feel my stomach drop and feel as though her past pain is my own.
"I could feel this pain in my chest and I couldn't breathe. I was rushed to the hospital where they had to revive my heart again. Two times in my life, my heart stopped. They had to perform another surgery and that's what the scar is. It is the ugliest part of my body," she chokes out, diverting her gaze from me. My heart drops seeing her this way; torn about a scar that exemplifies her life.
"Leslie, it's not ugly. It makes you beautiful. So, so beautiful," I gush to her, kissing her cheek and eyelids.
She leans into my body and her bright eyes meet mine, my hand letting go of hers only to help her lay back down.
"You are the greatest thing that could have happened to me. I'm beyond happy they saved you because I wouldn't have ever been able to be with you. That beautiful little scar shows me that you are strong and I can't express how much I care about you," I tell her, the bright orbs looking into my dark ones.
Bravery kicks through her body for her fingers grip the bottom of the tee, pulling it over her head. I smile over at her and she pulls me closer, forming her lips with mine. My bare chest rests on top of hers and my forearms rest under her, holding Leslie unbearably close to me.
To thinking if it weren't for the doctors, the little glimmer of light in my life wouldn't be here to help me. She's made to help and care; sent from a family polar opposite from mine.
She pulls away and smiles at me, my finger wiping the lone tear from her pink cheek. Our hearts are pressed together and I feel her, connecting with her unlike anyone I know.
"Can I feel you?" I ask, her head nodding. She first has me take her tight jeans off, my hands feeling her smooth legs. My hand grabs her left foot and places the small base on my chest, gently feeling every inch of her perfect body. The only thought in my mind is Leslie.
After I kiss up her legs, I press a long kiss to her lips and stand, tugging the black jeans off the lengths of my legs. To say I want her is an understatement.
"Harry," she breathes, my body climbing back to hers. Gentle fingers form through my curls and I observe her, pressing kisses to her chest. Her chest glimmers with each kiss I place onto her, my tongue rolling over the soft skin.
The growing bulge in my boxers is beginning to visualize, her eyes peering up at me as to what to do. Her hands run along my shoulders before she does anything, touching my burning skin. Waves of heat come over us and her little body lies under mine ever so beautifully. Her eyes gleam into mine and her trembling fingers move to my cheeks, touching me.
"I want all of you," she whispers, my hand moving to grab hers. I kiss her fingers and place her hand on my boxers, nerves pulsing through me. I don't know why I'm nervous; we've been unofficially together for almost two months.
"I'm in this with you," she whispers, my eyes never straying from hers. The dark material is extracted from my body, my hand tossing the boxers to the side of my body.
"Leslie, I want it to be you," I tell her, vulnerability laced through my words. My bare entirety lies before her, her eyes never leaving mine.
"I'm yours Harry," she says, fingers holding my cheeks to distract me from the sudden rush of adrenaline. The only thing I know about this moment, is that sex would ruin it. Her gentle caress to me fades all fears and my hands hold her waist.
"Take mine off," she whispers, keeping her lips pressed to mine as the words mumble into my mouth. Her soft skin runs under my finger tips and my hands grip the light pink underwear on her hips, pulling them down her thighs. She elevates her legs and I withdraw the cotton, situating the clothing next to my boxers.
Burning skin touches and my hands caress hers, lacing my fingers through hers. She flips us to have her light body on mine, wrapping a sheet around us. She kisses my swollen lips, her hand holding my cheek and brushes her fingers against my skin. Ultimately, the feeling I have produces a constant pounding of my heart to press to my chest. She's caused my heart to beat faster more than any guard duty I've encountered.
"Let me make you feel good," I blurt, not thinking before saying it. She deserves much better than what I have to offer, but she's the only one who cares. And I'm addicted to her as if she was my own drug.
.............
I'm sorry it took so long to get back on track with my updates but I hope you enjoyed!
***I was wondering if any of you had edits or trailer ideas for this story. If you do, please e-mail me or send me a link through a personal message!
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