I was just finishing packing up the last of my things as I did my best to hold the tears at bay and try not to get all nostalgic. I’d be back, but it was still hard. I had made yet another trip into the closet to get the last of my jeans when the white shirt I’d worn the night Harry decided to have me for dessert caught my eye. I let my fingers dance along the sleeve, remembering the look on his face when I walked in wearing nothing but that. I’d hated him at the time, but even I couldn’t deny the sexual attraction that hung thick in the air between us. The Cooch fully agreed and nudged my ovaries to encourage me to swipe the shirt off the hanger and pack it too. You know, for old time’s sake. Besides, he’d never miss it; he had a ton of clothes, and to him, that one shirt was like a single snowflake amongst an avalanche of others. To me…it was priceless.
Harry came out of the bathroom wearing a black hoodie sweatshirt with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, and a pair of jeans and sneakers. His hair was still wet from our morning shower, sticking up in every different direction, and he’d obviously decided to forego the shave, which I wasn’t complaining about. I loved his scruff.
“A little under-dressed for the office, don’t you think?” I smiled at him as I stuffed his shirt and the last of my clothes inside my bag and zipped it.
“Yes, but it’s the perfect attire for taking my girl back to her folks’ house,” he said as he wrapped his arms around my waist from behind and hugged me close. I could smell the light scent of cologne and body wash, and I inhaled deeply, committing every little nuance to memory. Like I’d ever forget…
“You’re playing hookie?” I asked as I covered his arms with mine and turned my head to look at him.
“Mmhmm,” he answered, kissing the tip of my nose. “I want to spend every last second I can with you. They can do without me for another day.” Harry rested his chin on my shoulder and began to lazily rock us from side to side as he looked down at my bag. “How in the world did you manage to fit all of your clothes in there?”
“I didn’t pack everything,” I said with a shrug. “Fancy clothes aren’t exactly a necessity in bum f*cked Forks. Can you see me walking around the grocery store in spiked heels and a short, spandex skirt?”
Harry hummed dreamily and pushed his hips into my backside. I took that as a yes, as did the little hoochie between my legs. The Cooch purred and tried like hell to get me to rub up against his c*ck like a kitten searching for attention. He would’ve given it too, which would have been counterproductive to ever leaving the bedroom again. Not that I had any qualms about having yet another round with the colossal c*ck, but my mother needed someone at home to help out, and my dad deserved the break.
“We’re never going to make it out of here if you keep doing stuff like that,” I warned.
The Cooch was all, ‘Yeah that’s sort of the point, dumbass. Scrogg his ever-f*cking brains out for Christ’s sake!’
Realizing that it really wasn’t much that I’d packed and wanting to mess with Harry a bit, I exaggerated a sigh. “I will eventually have to go shopping however, since you discarded all the things I brought with me originally…”
Harry buried his face in my neck and groaned, which made me giggle. He felt like a douchebag for doing it, which I happened to find incredibly cute. I turned in his arms and cupped his face with my hands, forcing him to look up at me.
