Underneath My Skin

Ch. 14

"You missed your appointment today," Harry says softly.

My blood starts to boil. I wish I was dead, so I wouldn't have to deal with this back and forth with him. One minute he's hot, one minute he's cold.

"I wonder why," I snap.

"Briella, i'm sorry. That's why I came tonight, to apologize."

I stay silent. Why couldn't he just come in and apologize. No, instead he takes me home like the cheap prostitute I am. So that he can use me, knowing that I won't be able to resist him. We ride in silence until he turns into a parking garage. A familiar parking garage where there's only audis. .

He parks and I open my door, slowly getting out. I follow Harry into the elevator and he types in his pin number. Now I know that this is where the man that I gave a hand job lives. The doors close and the air around us changes. Harry looks at me with wide dark eyes and then just like that, his lips are on mine.

My fingers lace their way into his curls and I pull gently. He slides his tongue into my mouth and our tongues move in sync. He pushes me up against the wall hard and a sharp pain erupts in my back. I break away from the kiss gasping for air.

"What's wrong?" He asks.

I shake my head. My legs feel like they are about to give out beneath me.

"I get motion sick," I lie.

Harry nods and backs away from me. I hold on to the wall for support. The doors finally open and I follow Harry down the hall. He unlocks his door and I follow him inside.

His condo looks very similar to the other man's. Its has an open layout and I can see everything from here. In the center of the condo is a black spiral staircase, which i'm guessing leads to the bedrooms.

Harry's living room is white with a lot of paintings,very expensive looking furniture, a flat screen, and a beautiful fire place. All the air escapes my lungs when I see the painting of me sitting on a bench reading a book, hanging up above his fireplace. My heart rate increases.

He has clean hardwood floors. His dining room is plane with a huge black dining table and at least twenty chairs on it.

His kitchen is huge with black marble counter tops and stainless steel appliances.

The far wall is made of nothing but glass, that overlooks the dazzling lights of New York City. In front of the glass wall is a huge black grand piano.

Harry walks into the kitchen and I follow him. I carefully sit down on the black barstool and he pours us both wine. He hands me my glass and I take a sip.

"So why didn't you come to your appointment today?" He asks.

I sigh. "I didn't see the point in it."

His eye brows knit together in deep thought. "Well, we're together now. What's going on?"

I shrug my shoulders and take another sip of my wine.

"Have you fucked Zayn yet?" He asks boldly.

I cock my head to the side. "No. But when we do, it won't be fucking. We'll be making love."

I actually want to believe my words, but I honestly want to see Harry's reaction. His eyes widen and he sets his glass on the counter.

"You love him?" He whispers.

I shake my head. "No, and I won't have sex with him until I do."

Harry's eyes darken. "Zayn doesn't know the first thing about making love." He smirks. "And neither do you."