CHAPTER EIGHT - HARLEY
I woke the next morning with a headache like a mother fucker. All night long I’d been pacing the damn floor. After waking up just after midnight to the sound of gunshots, I had no choice. Madrid was a stupid choice for a trip, and everyone with half a bit of sense in their fucking head knew it. It wasn’t safe. Period.
“You’re kidding me, right?” I sighed in annoyance at Libby’s question. She looked up at me in her own visible annoyance from where she nursed a cup of coffee next to Abigail on the patio.
“No,” I said, shortly. “I’m not kidding. There are attacks going on. Neither one of you are allowed out of this hotel today until I hear clearance.”
“What are we supposed to do then?” Libby asked. “This is ridiculous, Harley. It’s not a big deal out here.”
“I’m being paid to protect you. Until I hear something, keep your ass in your hotel room. I’m not going to come rescue either one of you again if you go out without me knowing.”
Libby rose from her patio chair with an irritated huff. “Whatever. I’ll just go take a nap while I wait for this trip to turn fun again.”
“Libby—” Abigail started.
“Come get me when he gets that stick out of his ass,” Libby told Abi, shooting me a dirty look before going back into her room. The doors slammed shut behind her.
“I’m sorry,” Abigail said, setting her cup of coffee down. “She just thinks that you’re being paranoid about everything.”
“Did she not hear the gunshots last night?” I asked, sharply.
Abigail looked at me intently then. Hesitating for a moment, she reached forward to gently place a hand on my bouncing knee. “I heard them, but it’s fine. You’re here, and I know you wouldn’t let anything happen.”
The touch of Abigail’s hand on my knee instantly drew me out of those dark memories of Iraq a few months ago. I inhaled deeply to calm my racing nerves while I looked down at Abigail’s fingers resting on my knee. Her hands were so small and petite that I could easily shatter them by just gripping them too hard. Still, they held so much strength and warmth to them.
And I liked the feeling of her hands on my body a little too much. Heat flared beneath her palm and finger tips. I pulled my knee back subtly as possible and tried not to dwell on the disappointment of losing it.
Abigail’s safety was my priority and paycheck.
If I dwelled on the tempting thought of taking her into my bed, I’d cave in and fuck her against the first solid structure I came to. The past week she had stuck to my side like glue instead of walking ahead of me as usual with Libby. There was constant little touches and brushes that were hard to ignore. I couldn’t reach out and grab her the way I wanted to, but taking her in my mind while I worked myself over the edge in the shower would work. It have to. That was as close as I was getting to her sweet center.
Cold showers weren’t doing anything either. I ended up pleasuring myself in muffled silence just to ease the damn ache, but Abigail fueled it on. I could still see her in my mind’s eye, her chest pressed to the shower. I wanted to take her from behind, to slide past the slick curve of her ass and drive into her heat while I bit at the back of her shoulder and licked the long line of her neck. I could almost feel her squirming against me in the shower the night before, hear her moan as I tugged at the peaked nipple of one of her breasts. She’d come like a fountain, joining me before I put her on her knees to clean up the mess she made. Fuck. I was going to break my contract and take her before the trip was over. I wanted her too goddamn bad to deny myself. I was fucked.
I had a creeping suspicion she knew what she was doing, but there were times I caught those innocent stares. It was hard to believe she was a virgin still.
“Is it hard to fight?”
I blinked back from those thoughts at the curious question. I looked up to find Abigail curled up in her chair with her cup of coffee in hand. The strands of her hair were silky and straight today while they fluttered in the hot breeze. A rich floral smell followed every time the wind picked up.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“You know,” she said, shrugging her petite shoulders, “could you teach me how to fight?”
“Fight how?” I asked, perplexed by this conversation. Not once had Abigail ever expressed interest in learning how to fight. “As in self-defense with a gun, or—”
Abigail’s face contorted in fear. “Oh, no. No guns for me. I’m too afraid to pick one up, let alone pull a trigger.”
“A gun only does what it’s told to do,” I replied, sagely. “Then, what? To hit someone if they come at you?”
“Yes, that. I might need a few lessons in that department.” She gave me a shy glance. “You were in the Special Forces, so I assume you know how to punch.”
“I know how to kill people in one hit,” I said. “Not that you need to go that far, but I could teach you a few things. Self-defense type stuff.” I caught myself liking the idea of her wanting to know how to take care of herself. It caused my pulse to spike. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” She stretched forward to set her mug of coffee on the table between us. Rising from the chair, Abigail stood in front of me dressed in a pair of tight under armor shorts and a tank top. It left little, but a whole lot to the imagination. Her bare feet scuffed the patio floor as she shifted nervously in front of me. “Okay, show me something.”
I rose from my own chair warily. Something about this felt off, but it wouldn’t hurt to teach Abigail the proper way to hit a person if they grabbed at her. At least she had some self-defense in the future after we returned back to America.
It only took once to show Abigail something before she memorized it. I admired her ability to move fluidly with athleticism and grace that I never once expected from her. Nor, did I expect the surprising strength behind her fists when she punched me in the palm as I instructed.
“How do you get someone off if they come up from behind you?” Her question was innocent enough, but I realized quickly that I’d dug myself into a hole.
“Press your back to my chest.” I reached for her and pulled her in close, her body tightly against mine. It was so fucking hard to breathe with her so near, her smell so clean and delicious. Her firm ass pressed against my cock in the most erotic way, and I had to take a step back as my body grew hard.
“You’re flushed,” Abigail said as she turned, concern lacing her voice. “Should we stop, or—”
Yes. “No. It’s just the heat. Don’t worry about it.” I smoothed a hand through my hair to regain control of myself.
Abigail watched me curiously as I instructed her to come running at me. She did as she was told and surprisingly took me down after wrapping her body around mine in a way that I had a feeling she knew would disable me. Not because she was stronger, but because she sensed the electric charge in the air just as much as I did.
I found myself pinned beneath her as she crouched above me with a mischievous grin that instantly set my blood to a boil. “Abi,” I whispered roughly.
“Do you yield?” she asked with a cocky smile on her pretty face. The girl needed to be spanked, and I was more than willing to do it.
“No,” I said, as strands of her hair tickled my face. “Abi, we should—”
“We should what?” She cocked her head to the side. “I have a feeling you aren’t very comfortable on the ground beneath me.”
“It’s not right,” I said.
I went to sit up, but she pushed my forearms down above our heads. All logic and reason fell away as she straddled my hips, her soft center pressed to my erection. There was no hiding how badly I was turned on. She pressed down, and I groaned and closed my eyes, unable to help myself from lifting my hips to feel more of her against me.
I gritted my teeth as desire swirled through me. Forcing my eyes open, I pinned her with a disapproving glare. “Abigail—”
“What?” She asked, lowering herself to press her breasts to my chest. “Do you surrender?”
“This isn’t fighting,” I said, shaking my head. “You’re trying to… to…”
“To what?” Her voice was sultry and fuck if she didn’t sound like my kind of temptress. Believing she was a virgin, an innocent sweet girl as I lay beneath her, tense as fuck was a joke. She wanted more than I was willing to give her, or maybe I was making shit up. Maybe it was me that wanted it so bad. To take my time opening her up like a flower and teaching her the slowest and most erotic way to the peak of her pleasure point.
Her fingers trailed down the inside of my arms softly. I curled my fingers into fists to keep myself from reaching out to touch her. The heat and weight of her sweet pussy pressed against me was enough to drive me crazy with lust. My body ached to discover how tight and wet she had to be.
The tips of her nipples grazed against my chest, so beaded and hard. My mouth watered as she hovered above me, and I realized that she wasn’t wearing a bra beneath her loose tank top. If she didn’t get up fast then—
Her eyes widened before she glanced down at my erection. The thin fabric of my shorts and her pants didn’t help the heat and friction when she shifted back slightly in surprise.
I expected her to get up, to realize what sort of game she was trying to play. Except, she didn’t. The little freak rolled her hips, pressing against my dick in a way that had me groaning again. “Abi. Fuck.”
“I wanna,” she whispered and glanced up at me. A determined glint filled her eyes just before her eyelashes fluttered and closed. The look of pleasure on her face as she pressed her hands into my chest and sat up, rolling her hips again and it was now too much.
I opened my mouth to warn her, and distantly told myself to get her off, but she moaned, and I was lost to her.
“Baby,” I groaned and reached up, sliding my fingers into her hair. I wasn’t going to pull her down and make love to her mouth, but to warn her again, but I couldn’t find the words.
“Harley,” she whimpered and moved down toward me, her long hair framing her beautiful face. Up close, I could see freckles covering her cheekbones and nose. She stared down at me with hooded eyes before slowly leaning in to brush her lips hesitantly against my own. The softness of them, the taste of coffee and something unique… I couldn’t think or resist any longer.
I gripped her face tightly and kissed her back, hard as I lifted my hips. If she wanted my cock… she was getting it.