Bliss Oliveira is a little lost. Not physically of course, but in every other definition of the word. Her carefree and wild nature have left her unsure of what her next steps are in life. At the age of 26, her friends have it all figured out. With c...
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My eyes fluttered open to the midmorning sun but I didn't have to see the empty side of the makeshift mattress to know he was gone. I instantly closed my eyes once more and let out a heavy sigh.
I'd only spent two nights in bed with Harry, if last night even counted, and that was all it took to get used to his presence next to me.
I don't think I would've even thought too hard about that if it wasn't for the fact that since I knew what it felt like to be in his presence, I also knew what it was like to be in his absence.
And fuck if those weren't two different sides of the spectrum.
Having his attention felt like I was under a spotlight. Like I was the only thing he saw.
And it felt like he saw me.
But his absence actually felt like something important was missing. An integral part of the whole equation wasn't there. The weirdest part was I was pretty sure the feeling had always been there, lurking in the background. It just took me meeting Harry to realize it.
I couldn't help but reach out and pat the spot next to me, searching fruitlessly for him, but all I found was cold wrinkled sheets.
He'd probably left hours ago.
I thought about the day before as I opened my eyes once more to stare at the green canopy above me through the mesh window of my tent. I'd spent the whole day thinking about him, only able to get sidetracked by my friends for brief moments here and there. After a very long time of grilling, they had finally let it go when I had distracted them with weed.
Only to be jackasses when Harry actually showed up.
It didn't seem to bother him though, and I was pretty sure he only spoke to me the whole time he'd been here.
I really thought I'd fucked up by being too nosey. By the time he left, I had a voice in the back of my head telling me I'd probably never see him again. I was so interested in everything about him that I couldn't even filter myself as I threw question after question at him.
But Harry was a closed book that spoke only in riddles.
Of course I knew whatever their work was, was dangerous. I saw his face and knuckles. And I saw JJ and Wolf's guns that they kept on their bodies, either on the inside of her cuts or even tucked into the back of their waist bands. I hadn't seen Harry's yet but I wasn't naïve enough to think he didn't carry. He was just better at concealing it than the others.
My mind lingered on him with a gun and I couldn't help but clench my thighs together at the thought. I'd never even seen a gun in real life before Wolf's but the idea of Harry carrying one was almost too hot to bear.
Something about the air of danger he carried with him actually made me feel safe.
I could feel my cheeks heat as I remembered the feeling of his hands on my body. I still had an ache between my legs from the way he'd roughly taken me just hours before, searching for solace in me.
