DIRTY BULLETS

chapter forty six

HARRY'S POV

"We need to get the fuck out of here."

"Why? What's going on?" Layla furrowed her eyebrows so as there was a gentle crease between them. She was looking up at me, those big doe eyes staring at me through her lashes while her swollen lips parted in fluster of the abrupt change of events.

It took everything in me to not gaze at her gorgeous body still sprawled out on the bed, tempting me, to not just resume what we had been in the middle of, my face between her thighs as she moaned for me like heaven against my ears. God, I couldn't even begin to imagine how good it would feel to be buried deep inside her, panting whimpers tumbling from those sweet lips as her nails dig into my back-

"Harry?"

"That was Will." I told her, clearing my throat as I subtly readjusted the front of my sweatpants. "Apparently the police got a tip off of the number plate on our car."

"Meaning what exactly?" She hesitantly asked, though it was obvious she already knew the answer. Her face had fallen, and I could visibly see she was chewing the inside of her cheek in apprehension of what was to come.

Letting out a sigh, I turned away from her as I spoke. "Meaning they're tracking us down and we've been in the one place for too long."

"Oh," I heard her mutter as I bent down to pick up my shirt that had previously been thrown on the floor, before then also grabbing her sweatpants that were strewn beside it.

Except her next words caused me to straighten up abruptly and turn to her, my body tensing as I didn't entirely expect her to say them.

"So... that means we can't finish what we were doing?" And although her words were somewhat forward, her voice remained timid, uncertain as to whether she should have even said them in the first place. Her voice even trailed off towards the end as she looked like she wanted the floor to swallow her whole, her fiery boldness she always hosted seeming to falter momentarily.

It brought a smile to my face, a lopsided grin, as my eyes widened a little in a surprised reaction.

She had always been so ashamed before, of the times we had messed around, so her apparent disappointment that this time our activities had been cut short was unexpected. Flattering, for sure, but surprising even more so.

Walking over to her, smile still curled to my lips, she watched me, looking up at me expectantly to see what I was doing. There was an expression of innocence, of sweetness on her face and she was unaware of just how enticing she was. It was that oblivion that only amplified this effect she seemed to have on me.

Whatever that was.

I hadn't noticed it before, or at least hadn't acknowledge it. But now it had been brought to my attention.

It was fresh, it was new, and it was miniscule. But it was still there, her effect.

Reaching the side of the bed, I then leaned down, my hands pressing against the mattress with our clothes still gripped in one palm as I rested my hands on either side of her head. My face hovered above hers for merely a moment, gazing down at her before I couldn't deny the urge as I leaned down even closer and allowed our lips to meet.

It was a gentle kiss, not hard nor rushed, as I felt her kiss me back with the same tender, one of her hands coming up to rest against my cheek.

It was the first time she had done that, placed her soft palm against my stubble-covered skin while we kissed, and it caused something within my chest to glint. It was a foreign feeling, a distant one that I couldn't pinpoint, though for some reason my body believed I had felt it before.