by Bella Emy
Minutes turn to an hour.
Still no Cory.
The lines are still down, and all we can see or hear from the windows is heavy rain and whooshing winds that cause tree branches to flap around aimlessly and throw items around.
“Where the hell is he?” I’m totally freaking out after another ten minutes of waiting for my brother. Why isn’t he here yet? Preston and I are sitting in the back room on the couch he has positioned in front of a TV that won’t turn on. Gotta love the lack of electricity during a storm.
“I’m sure he’s stuck on some road the cops probably blocked off. With tree branches and such flying around, there must be large ones covering the roads. Probably a lot of traffic to get around too.”
He’s probably right, but I’m not going to tell him that. No fucking way. “How long am I supposed to wait here though?” Annoyance laces my tone, and I know he can tell because of the look he just gave me. Wonderful.
“Harleigh, I can drive you home now and you can wait for him there if you’d like. It may just take us some time to get there because of the conditions outside.”
Yeah, no. I don’t think so. Still don’t want to get into a car with him.
“I can walk back, no biggie.”
Preston’s chuckle fills the air and my ears. It has been so long since I last heard it. “You can’t possibly be serious.”
I furrow my brows and cross my arms across my chest. “Why not?”
He rises from his seat on the couch to stand directly in front of me. “Because this storm is absolutely nuts. Have you not seen how bad it’s coming down? If it weren’t so bad, your brother would be here by now. If you really don’t want to stay, let me drive you home.”
“What if Cory finally shows up and we’re not here?”
“I’ll put up a sign and tape it to the inside of the glass door to let him know you’re waiting for him at home. Everyone wins.” He still has a smirk on his face.
As much as I hate what I’m about to do, I don’t have much of a choice. At least if I’m home, I can walk around and not feel like I’m trapped in a room with him. Right now, only the two of us in his shop is making me feel uncomfortable, not to mention the memories from way back when that happened in the next room. “Fine.”
The smug grin on his face makes me want to slap it. Ugh, I hate this. It’s like I’m giving him the power he craves, and I don’t want to. I need to stay in control at all costs.
“Ask nicely, Harleigh.”
I let out a small chuckle and shake my head. Even in this horrid situation we’re in, he wants to be playing games. Okay, no problem. I’ll play his game. “Please, Mr. Scott. Would you drive me home?” I purposely whine seductively.
The look on his face seems like I hit a nerve or, maybe, something else.
Moments later, he laughs softly. Ugh, the sound alone kills me. Don’t even get me started on how it looks.
In his own low husky tone, he gives me his reply, making me hate that I took it there in the first place. “Why yes, Ms. Davis. I believe I can.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Preston
We arrive at her apartment after being on the road for well over two hours. I don’t know why Harleigh was in a hurry to leave the shop, but I guess she’s more comfortable at home.
I do have to say, though, that when my eyes first took in the visual of her standing there all wet and beautiful, her image made me feel something deep inside I hadn’t felt in so long. Probably in as long as since the last time I’d seen her.
And her teasing me in that cute little voice of hers, begging me to take her home, almost made me lose control. I wanted to grab her and smash my lips onto hers, claiming her once more.
But she’s not mine, and I’m not able to claim shit. She doesn’t belong to me, never has, and I need to let it go. She just makes it so fucking hard. She makes everything so fucking hard…
The plan was to drive her back here and be on my way home, but since the ride over took so long—much longer than we expected anyway—she invited me in for a drink.
The power came back almost immediately after we set foot inside her apartment. Thankfully, it hadn’t been out long enough to spoil most of the items in her refrigerator. Since the door had remained closed, everything was still pretty cold.
I accepted her invitation to go inside. After working a full day in the shop and then dealing with this storm Mother Nature is throwing at us, I’m exhausted. I’m tired, hungry, and horny. That last one is the worst of all because I know there is nothing I can do about it. No amount of food or sleep will cure it, not as long as I’m in Harleigh Davis’s presence anyway.
Now, as I walk around the kitchen that belongs to her and Cory, I don’t want to leave. I know I should probably go, but with Cory not even here yet, I feel like I need to wait with her and make sure she’ll be fine.
I know she’s a grown woman and is more than capable of taking care of herself, but with this weather and no sign of Cory, I just can’t leave.
Harleigh walks back in from her bedroom after about ten minutes. Her hair is still damp, and wild curls bounce with every step. She’s wearing a pair of black yoga pants and a pink T-shirt that shows off more than I can stand. She’s fucking gorgeous. My cock hardens and begs to be released, but there is no chance of relieving that right now.
“Sorry, I had to get out of those wet clothes. Beer?”
I nod because forming words while looking at her now is out of the question. She takes each step until she reaches the refrigerator. She grabs the handle, opens it, and bends over to look inside. I get a beautiful visual of her round booty, and I want to cry.
She straightens back up and closes the door with her ass. I want to chuckle because I think she knows exactly what she is doing to me.
A bottle of beer is in each hand, and she shrugs at me. “I have no free hands.”
Right, nicely played, Harleigh.
She could have used an elbow or something, but no. She used her ass to bring more attention to it. Women.
She walks up to me and hands me one. I nod my head once more and take the bottle from her. Finally, I’m able to articulate a proper verbal form of gratitude. “Thanks, Harleigh.”
She spins around and walks to the countertop to place her bottle on it. Once it’s out of her hands, she turns around and jumps, then plops on top. Mmm. The thoughts running around in my brain right now are wild.
She brings her beer to her gorgeous lips and chugs. Fuck, does she look sexy doing it. I remember when she wasn’t much of a drinker. I guess time changed all that. She is so grown now, so grown in all the right places.
Once she pulls the bottle from her lips and swallows, she looks at me. “You don’t have to stay long, you know. After you finish your drink, you can go. I’m sure Cory will probably be here soon enough and that you have things to do.”
I swallow another mouthful and drain my beer. I place my empty bottle on the table and meet her gaze. “I got nowhere else to be.”
The tension in the air is thick enough to cut right down the middle. I know she has to feel it too. We’ve spent all this time apart, and with everything our history has to say for itself, I know it’s sexual tension and nothing more. I want this girl so badly all over again, even though I can’t have her.
Yet I can’t stop myself from taking each step closer to where she is. I can’t stop the attraction I feel toward this woman. I haven’t been able to get her out of my system for years, and I know that today is not helping.
When I finally reach her, I place both of my hands on her knees. My heart races, but I know this is the only thing I want right now.
She places her beer down next to her, and her lust-filled eyes stare back at me. “Preston, what are you doing?” Her voice is shaky and breathless.
I gently part her legs and position myself between her thighs. I could be wrong, or maybe I’m just imagining it because I want her so fucking much, but I can feel heat radiating from between her
legs.
My eyes bore into hers. “Harleigh, you know exactly what I’m doing. I’ve held back for too long. I can’t hold back anymore, Harleigh. Looking at you like this, here, now… talking like we’ve never touched before? I can’t do it. I can’t hold back anymore. I want to taste you. I want to bury myself deep inside you like I did so long ago.”
She swallows hard. Even though I know the alcohol has already begun taking its toll on her—she’s got such a small frame, it’s never taken her long to feel a buzz—she hears and understands me, loud and clear.
Without giving her a moment to think, I place my hands on her face, grab her, and smash my lips into hers.
I missed the feel of her lips. The way she tasted, the way she feels… God, it’s driving me crazy.
And I was right. She wants me just as much too. She kisses me back, sending waves of fire penetrating through us.
She parts her lips for me, and I push my tongue into her mouth. It finds hers, and the taste of her is making me want to explode. She moans into my mouth, and I grab onto her even tighter. If my dick could burst through my pants, it would already be inside her, feeling her soft, sweet slice of heaven.
I bring my hands down to touch her between her legs. Another soft moan escapes her as I massage her pussy through her pants.
She moans. “Preston…”
Fuck, I can’t stand it.
I reach up and hook my fingers inside her pants, and I want to die when I realize she’s not wearing any panties, giving me speedy access to her pussy.
“Oh, fuck, Harleigh.”
She giggles softly through a moan.
My fingers are instantly coated with her juices, causing me to shove them deep inside her cunt. Now she’s moaning louder, and I need to get her naked.
I pull my hands out and to her chest to circle her tits, and as I go to rip her shirt in half, we’re interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell.
Fuck, why now?
Harleigh pulls back as reality comes crashing down on us. “Shit, it’s Cory!”
I move over, allowing her the space to jump down from the counter. I can’t take my eyes off her as I watch her adjust her shirt and pants. I want to be ripping them off with my teeth.
She gives me one last look, letting me know we fucked up, again, but still, I don’t see an ounce of regret in her gaze. Maybe I’m crazy, but I feel like she’s upset we had to stop.
Then it hits me. “Doesn’t Cory have keys?” This is his place too. Why the hell would he ring the bell?
Harleigh furrows her brows and shrugs her shoulders. “Maybe he forgot them? I don’t know.” Her look tells me she’s not buying what she said.
She turns away from me and heads to the door. She pushes up onto her tippy toes and looks through the peephole.
She snaps her head around to look at me once more, but this time, her expression is not full of lust or desire.
I recognize that look better than anyone else could.
It’s fear.
Her eyes widen. “It’s the cops.”
I walk closer to her and stop a few feet behind her as she pulls open the door.
“Officers?” Harleigh grips the side of the door.
Two police officers, both male, stand before her. “Good evening. Are you Ms. Davis?”
She hesitates momentarily before responding. “Y-Yes, I am. Is everything all right?”
The second one looks at his partner before meeting Harleigh’s gaze once more. “I’m sorry. I’m afraid there’s been an accident.”
Hurricane Sabrina may have come to an end, but a new storm, an emotional storm, just began.
PART FIVE
Six months later…
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Preston
I haven’t touched her.
Not since that awful night of the storm when our world went crazy and turned upside down… when Cory was ripped from us, from Harleigh.
To say she’s been devastated and distraught barely brushes the surface. Some days, she doesn’t even want to get out of bed. Others, she’ll sit looking into deep space, crying here and there.
So, no. I haven’t touched her since.
I’ve wanted to. Every single morning when I wake and see her standing in the kitchen, lost in thought, brewing a cup of coffee, I want to embrace her, comfort her. Same with every single night as we say good-night, and she goes off to her room while I go to mine.
I haven’t touched her, but I’ve wanted to. So much.
Once we found out Cory was tragically killed during Hurricane Sabrina, I’ve been staying by her side. A large chunk of a tree crashed through his windshield and struck his head, causing him to slam his car headfirst into a building.
I couldn’t leave her. It started with me keeping her company that night, followed by the next three days. Every time I’d try to go home, I’d see Harleigh balled up in a corner of the couch, ready to burst with waterworks. Eventually I ended up spending more and more time at her place, and a few months ago, I grabbed some of my things and practically moved in. I couldn’t leave her side.
It’s temporary, of course. It’s only been six months since Cory’s death, but soon enough, I’ll be able to go home and let her get on with her life.
At the same time, not touching her is eating me alive. It’s the only thing I want to do, but because of what happened, I can’t bring myself to do it. I mean, I’ve caught on to a few hints here and there that she still wants me, but if we cross that line again now, after what happened with Cory, there is more than a good chance she will regret it in the morning. So I’ve kept my distance as best as possible.
During the day, the two of us go on our merry way to work. I keep busy with the shop, and she stays busy writing her editorial columns for the local newspaper. When we get home at night, we have dinner and then end up dozing off on the couch in front of the TV before bed. In some ways, we remind me of an old married couple, except we’re not married or even a couple.
So many of those nights I want to pick her up off the couch and carry her to my bed. So many nights I want to make love to her into the wee morning hours.
I take a deep breath and insert the key into the door of “our” apartment. It still feels weird saying that. This was once Cory and Harleigh’s place. Now it’s hers and mine… sort of. For now, anyway. Like I said before, this is just temporary.
“Hey, I’m home.” I open the door and walk inside. The mouthwatering aroma of cinnamon apple pie wafts into my nostrils. Has Harleigh been baking?
“In the kitchen.”
It must be a good day. Whenever Harleigh is putting something together in the kitchen, it means her thoughts of Cory aren’t consuming her whole like they do on most days. These days are rare, but lately, they’re becoming more and more frequent. I guess time is helping some, but I know her heart is still broken. I don’t think that part of her will ever heal. It’s the same for me with Alyse.
I throw my keys onto the corner table and head straight for the kitchen. When I step foot inside, I see Harleigh standing against the counter with her back toward me. She’s wearing a black hoodie and gray yoga pants, and her hair is pinned up in a messy bun at the top of her head.
God, she’s beautiful.
“Damn.” Thankfully, I controlled my voice, and it only came out as a whisper. I shake my head and decide to keep my cool. “Hi, Harleigh.”
She spins around, blessing me with her gorgeous face and her small, sad smile. “Hey, Pres. You hungry? I made some diced-up, oven-roasted chicken and potatoes and baked a pie for dessert.”
Damn, talk about being domesticated. And shit, does she make it look good.
I know keeping herself busy helps with the pain. Days like today are the ones that don’t make me feel so guilty for craving her so badly.
I run my eyes up and down her body. “I’m starving.” That’s no lie. Sure, I am hungry after working all day, but looking at her now, I’m starving for her.
“Well, sit. Le
t’s eat.” She flips back around and scoops some chicken and potatoes onto two plates.
I feel like I can’t move. I stare at her, watching her every movement. Still, I try to snap out of it and take a seat at the end of the table. My eyes never leave her body though.
She walks toward me, and fuck, the urge to grab her and sit her on my lap is driving me crazy. I want to grab her face and smash my lips against hers.
She places a plate in front of me. “Let me know if you don’t like it. I tried a new recipe… my own concoction.” She smiles.
I hear her words, but they’re not registering.
She walks her plate back to the opposite side of the table, then takes a seat and stares at me. “Pres? What’s wrong? Are you sick?”
Fuck, I need to snap out of it, but thoughts of her, and me placing my hands all over her, are swimming around in my mind. I shake my head. “N-no. Nothing’s wrong. Everything is fine.”
She chuckles. “Okay, well then, pick up your fork and dig in before it gets cold.”
“Right.” I look down at the table and pick up the fork to my right. I stab a piece of chicken and take a bite, and it practically melts in my mouth. I lift my eyes and see her still watching me. “Wow, this is amazing, Harleigh.”
Her eyes light up. “Really? You really think so? Whew. I was worried it wouldn’t come out right.”
“It’s fantastic.”
I take another bite before I notice her rising from her seat and heading toward the fridge. “What do you want to drink? Beer? Soda? Water?”
I swallow hard as my eyes roam her body, bent in front of the fridge. I want to slap her ass so badly and feel it bounce back in my hand. “Water’s fine, thanks.”
She pulls out two bottles and walks back. “Here you go.”
I grab the bottle from her grasp and my hand brushes hers, sending chills running down my spine. “Thanks.” My voice comes out barely above a whisper. I wish I could grab her and sit her on my lap, running my hands up and down the length of her beautiful body.
“So, how was your day?” Harleigh’s voice brings me out of my reverie of running the same hand she grazed all over her. She was so casual about it. Is this her way of keeping her distance or is she friend-zoning me? Fuck, I wish I knew what she’s thinking.