If he could corrupt something as pure as Harleen, he was capable of corrupting humanity.
The thought still remained, however. Was Harleen as pure as she appeared? Sure, her face was angelic, but her body was like an hourglass – not very innocent when considering it. Maybe that was one of the reasons he felt so drawn to her; she had such a mass of contradictions. But who really knew? There seemed to be a new reason that kept popping up about why he liked her, and somewhere inside of him warned that he couldn’t be going soft. He was the devil for goodness’ sake.
But then again, Satan had never claimed to be perfect.
Currently, one strap of Andrew’s backpack was slung over his left shoulder, and he was headed down to the baseball field which was also shared by the soccer players and adjacent to the massive football field the school had. He knew Harleen would stay after school some days to watch her boyfriend engage in baseball matters. He could see her even from where he stood, his dark hazel eyes easily recognizing her untamable strawberry-blonde hair. If people met Harleen for only a moment, her hair would probably be distinctive in their memory no matter how much time elapsed between their meeting.
He couldn’t help the feeling of excitement as it started to burn in his chest. Andrew began to walk over to where she was, looking forward to the moment when they were off campus and heading to this crepe place he knew of. It would be their first date – though she merely thought of it as their first time studying French – and Andrew would soon be one step closer to accumulating her very soul.
If she would only ask.
Without warning to Harleen, Andrew reached out and squeezed her sides playfully, causing her to jump as she simultaneously emitted a squeak of surprise. He grinned as he walked around her, finding her reaction incredibly humorous if a little bit adorable.
Though Andrew’s pride would never let him admit it, he knew that he lucked out when it came to Harleen. There were far worse people he could be chained to for the rest of eternity.
“God, Andrew,” Harleen said, shaking herself as she flashed her eyes into the man’s she addressed. “Do you intend to scare me to death?”
“If I did that, you wouldn’t look as beautiful as you do now, what with the shocked expression on your face,” Andrew retorted, cocking a brow. “So,” he said as his eyes swept the baseball field. “Having fun, are we?”
“I know you’re not used to baseball, Mister World Traveler, but baseball is an American pastime,” Harleen stated, though it should be noted that her full attention was on her company rather than her boyfriend.
“Sleeping is a better one,” Andrew said, rolling his eyes and stepping onto the bleachers so he could sit next to Harleen. “Don’t you have better things to do than to watch that boy you seem to like hit a ball and then run around a few bases? It’s child’s play is what it is.”
“It’s a sport,” Harleen said.
“Well, sport or not, it’s boring,” Andrew muttered before leaning over and nudging his shoulder with hers. “Are you ready to go now? To be honest, my stomach is being rather… Oh what’s the word?” He looked at Harleen with a raised brow, expecting her help on the situation.
“You’re hungry?” Harleen guessed. Andrew nodded, and from the corner of his eye, he detected someone heading over to them and his smirk only deepened because he knew exactly who it was.
“Aren’t you?” he asked her, tilting his head as his eyes dropped in order to outline her sharp jaw line.
Before Harleen could answer that yes, she was, a guttural sound caused her eyes to snap up in order to look at Rosco, currently drenched in a mixture of sweat and water. He was breathless, probably from practicing so hard, but he didn’t seem too concerned. His eyes were focused primarily on Andrew. Andrew was still smiling, as though nothing was going wrong, as though Rosco wasn’t giving him a death glare. Just like most things on earth, Andrew was amused, knowing full well Rosco couldn’t hurt him.
“What do you think you’re doing, punk?” Rosco asked, and before Andrew could give an answer – because Andrew had prepared one – Rosco took a step forward. “Can’t you take a hint, man? She’s not interested.” He pushed his brow upwards. “What do you want anyways?”
“I’m here to take your girlfriend out for some crepes, sparky,” Andrew said with that crooked smile, his eyes twinkling with nothing short of triumph.
Rosco growled and reached out, curling his fingers in Andrew’s shirt so he could grip the material between his hands. Harleen glanced up at Andrew, only to find that same silly smile on his chiseled face. Was he crazy? Harleen knew that Andrew was arrogant, but Rosco was big and strong and threatening, and Harleen knew he had a bad temper. For whatever reason, Harleen reached out and placed her hands on Rosco’s own, looking at her boyfriend with a sharp look.
“Rosco,” she said with an obvious warning in her tone. “Rosco, let him go.”
“You can’t possibly tell me that you like this guy, Harl,” Rosco said, keeping his grip on Andrew’s shirt but tilting his head so he could look at his girlfriend. “This guy has been hitting on you constantly and now he says he’s taking you for whatever the fucks crepes are? As though he’s taking you on a date?”
“Rosco,” Harleen said, getting more impatient as her eyes narrowed in his direction. “You know that I need a French tutor. I have told you this time and time again. Andrew is going to be my tutor. He lived in Paris for four years; he can speak the language fluently.”
“And crepes are French food, smart one,” Andrew retorted in a dry tone, earning a sharp look from Harleen.
“Let him go, Rosco,” Harleen told him again. “You need to get back to practice anyways, and you don’t want him to be the reason you’re suspended, right? Because whatever you’re thinking about doing to Andrew could suspend you for the season, and all your college scouts won’t see you play because of Andrew. Do you really want that?”
Rosco seemed to think about it for a long moment before nodding his head once. He slowly released his grip on Andrew’s shirt and took a step back, his eyes going back over to Harleen. “If he tries anything, Harl,” Rosco said, jutting an index finger at her as though he was a father scolding his small child. “You tell me, okay?”
“Fine,” Harleen agreed, but to be honest, she wasn’t going to say anything. If Andrew did hit on her – just like he always did – it was just another reason to set Rosco off, and even though Andrew could be annoying, she wasn’t going to let Rosco beat the shit out of him. “But we’re leaving now. I’ll call you later.” Her tone did not leave anything up for argument, and she glanced at Andrew, telling him that she was ready to go. Soon enough, they were both heading to Andrew’s car.
“May I ask you a question?” Andrew asked as he unlocked his car door. Harleen perked her brow but said nothing as the two slid into the vehicle, Andrew behind the wheel and Harleen in the passenger seat. “Why do you put up with pricks like him? In my humble opinion, the brute doesn’t seem to be your type.” He started the car but kept his eyes on her until he began to back up.
“Oh really?” Harleen asked dryly as she snuggled into her seat. “You know, you had better watch out when it comes to Rosco, Andrew. I mean, no offense or anything, but Rosco’s pretty strong and I’m certain he could damage you very, very badly.”
Instead of being offended at such a deduction, Andrew cocked his head so he could lock eyes with her. There was a familiar crooked smile on his face, but something was different about it, as though it was slightly tainted with darkness of some sort. “We’ll see,” he said before pulling out of the parking lot.
Chapter 9
This wasn’t working.
It was now spring break, three weeks since Andrew had started going to this school in order to get Harleen to come away with him. He could be a patient man – living forever really taught him such a value – but it was necessary for him to have her. He needed to return to Hell, needed to reclaim his kingdom and make sure things hadn’t fallen apart in h
is absence. It was crucial, necessary, and to be honest, Andrew was sick of having to watch Rosco stake his claim on Harleen every single time Andrew came over to chat with her.
He needed to do something different. He needed to seduce her into coming with him.
But Harleen was a smart girl, and Andrew highly doubted she was the type of girl who swooned on a regular basis. During his time at Newport Harbor High School, he met many different girls who thought he was the cat’s meow and all that jazz, but he wasn’t interested in them; he only had eyes for one girl - the one girl, it would seem, that had absolutely no interest in him.
But he could always try.
Andrew ran his fingers through his dark, unruly hair as he walked down the quiet sidewalk. He only lived on the next street over, so if Andrew ever wanted to visit with Edgar or Harleen, he always walked because of just how close by it was. It had to be well after eight on the first Monday of spring break. Since Andrew knew that Harleen didn’t work, he hoped she was home and not out on a date with that boyfriend of hers.
Didn’t the baseball team go on some kind of tournament trip? a voice in his head asked, and Andrew cocked a smile, realizing that Rosco wouldn’t be here for a week. Now if only he could execute his plan and have it turn out successful before Rosco got back, he would be golden.
When he reached the house only a few moments later, he took a step on the lawn, his head tilting back so he got a better look at the second story. Tonight, Andrew would do something different. He wasn’t going inside of the house, knowing Edgar had some kind of company and didn’t want to meet with them. Plus, he had another trick up his sleeve that he wanted to try and execute, but he needed to know where Harleen’s room was…
It was only when his eyes caught sight of a light still on in a second story window did Andrew finally realize just where she was and what room she was in. Perfect.
--
Harleen had her head in her hand as she glanced blankly at her laptop screen. There were only two sentences written in Times New Roman about The Grapes of Wrath, a book by John Steinback her English class had just finished reading. An essay was due the Monday classes resumed and she wanted to get this essay over with so she didn’t have too much to worry about over her spring break, and could enjoy it. But for some reason, the words wouldn’t come. Out of all the subjects Harleen was good at, she knew English like the back of her hand. Yes, it took some time to start an essay, but once the first sentence was written, she knew exactly where she wanted to go with it, and in an hour – maybe less – she was finished, and she usually got A’s on them too. But for whatever reason, the words just weren’t coming.
Maybe it was the book itself. The Grapes of Wrath wasn’t exactly a bad book, but it was filled with lots and lots of details that seemed to distract the reader from the actual plot. They were supposed to watch the classic movie based on the book when they got back too, which hopefully clarify a lot of things that left her confused and befuddled.
After another moment of thinking, Harleen forced herself to type another sentence, but that, too, took some effort. She groaned at her lack of inspiration and tried to find some way to get back into the swing of things. Before she could do anything, however, a sound against her window caused her to pause. She pursed her lips, glancing at the glass that was shielded by curtains when another tap on the window caused her to furrow her brow even deeper. When her window was hit a third time, she realized someone was trying to get her attention.
In a manner of seconds, Harleen pulled up the blinds and opened her window, surprised to see Andrew standing there, his fist full of pebbles. She had always hoped a guy would throw pebbles at her window in the middle of the night, but certainly she had never imagined Andrew would ever do something so romantic. When she locked eyes with him, he gestured towards himself, indicating that he wanted her to come down. Harleen chewed on her bottom lip, wondering what kind of implications someone might have if she climbed out of her window and down the nearby tree to meet with him.
Rosco would be pissed, and Harleen was certain that if the roles were reversed and Rosco threw pebbles at some other girl’s window, she would be too. But there was just something about Andrew that she couldn’t quite put her finger on, and it wasn’t as though she was going to do anything with him. Before she knew it, she was over her windowsill and then used the different rings that made up the wall of her house to help her descend. When she reached the bottom, her bare feet being invaded by the cool blades of grass, she turned in order to give Andrew an inquiring look.
“What are you doing here?” she asked him, though her voice wasn’t accusatory in the least. If anything, she was only curious, interested in his presence and what that might mean.
Andrew looked down at her, his dark hazel eyes trying to read Harleen’s own. He was silent for a long moment, unsure of what to say. In fact, Andrew was surprised that Harleen had climbed down to see him, and he hadn’t prepared anything to say. Maybe the truth was the best idea.
“Why,” he began, his voice low with a slight husk to it, “I am here to claim you, of course.”
Normally, Harleen would scoff at such an idea, roll her eyes, and either yell at him for saying such a sexist thing or completely change the subject, but something about the way he looked at her added to how he spoke the words caused her breathing to hitch. For whatever reason, she couldn’t remove her eyes from his, and somewhere deep down, she realized she didn’t want to. They were standing quite close, so close, in fact, that Harleen could feel Andrew’s body heat meshing with hers. She shouldn’t be here; she shouldn’t be with him, looking at him the way she was, wanting nothing more than to feel her lips on his.
“What does that mean?” she asked in a voice just above a whisper, a voice that caused Andrew’s eyes to darken just looking at her.
Something had changed between them, and it wasn’t because of him. He didn’t want to understand why she had come down, why she had given him such an opportunity, lest it turn out in a way that was unfavorable to him. Instead, Andrew kept his gaze locked on hers, and he leaned forward so his lips barely caressed her ear.
“What do you say we ditch this town, hmm?” he asked her before pulling back so he could look into her eyes.
Harleen knew she should say no, that she had a boyfriend at it wasn’t loyal to run off with another guy in the middle of the night. She wasn’t concerned in the slightest what Edgar would think; it was her uncle that kept trying to talk her into going out with Andrew. And though her head badgered her to say no, her heart, her desire, wouldn’t let the word slip out of her mouth.
“And where would we go?” she asked, tilting her head to the side so she could look at him from a slightly different angle.
For the first time in the entire time Harleen had known Andrew, a smile that was void of any crookedness touched his features and managed to steal her breath away. He leaned in close once again, his nose barely brushing against hers as his forehead rested against Harleen’s. Such intimacy was something he wasn’t used to, and he was surprised Harleen was letting him this close, but he wasn’t complaining.
“To Hell,” he whispered, his hot breath invading her senses.
For whatever reason, Harleen felt herself get sleepy, and before she slipped into a deep slumber, Andrew managed to catch her before she hit the ground. She fit perfectly in his arms and now she was his.
All his.
Sneak Peak of Dancing with the Devil, Part ii of the Devil Series
To be released October 29, 2014
Chapter 1
Harleen didn’t remember falling asleep, but she felt her eyes flutter softly, as though she currently woke up from some sort of slumber. What was the last thing she remembered, exactly? Andrew, she remembered Andrew standing outside her window. But what did he want with her? He wanted to take her away somewhere. It was almost romantic, actually. Harleen began to remember the scene that played out from the previous night – the fact that Andrew had thrown pebbles at her wi
ndow was enough to make her heart warm at the thought. It had always been a romantic dream that a guy would do that; Rosco never did. He always slept and probably wouldn’t know what a pebble was compared to a rock or even a stone.
Harleen frowned at her scathing thoughts. She never thought like this. She knew Rosco wasn’t romantic, and she had accepted that. But there were times when she wished he was, especially when someone like Andrew did something like that.
Her body started taking into consideration the fact that she might not be in her own bedroom. In fact, the bed – the room – she was in was ridiculously unfamiliar. It resembled that of a hotel suite; the bed was a California king, the room was wide with white walls and matching carpet, there was a vanity table complete with a mirror across from the bed and against the wall while a walk-in closet stood adjacent to the right side of her bed. A large squared-shape window with the curtains drawn was on the wall next to her.
Flirting With the Devil Page 5