Underneath My Skin

Ch. 20

Okay, so here's Harry's POV. But there's only going to be a few of these because this book is in Briella's point of view. Keep reading babes.

-Baby E 💋

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Harry's POV

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"Tell me why you're in America," Briella whispers.

I look into her eyes and my heart melts. She's crying. Why is she crying? I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I nod. What am I thinking? If she knows why I'm in America then she'll just run for the hills like everyone else.

I open my eyes and look down at her. She's so close to me. I'm scared that she will feel how fast she's got my heart beating. I look at what she's wearing and my body warms up. She looks so fucking sexy in silk night gowns. I gulp but there's no spit.

"Lets go inside," I say quietly.

She nods and I grab her hand. As soon as our fingers interlace a spark of heat ignites in my stomach. Fuck, why does she make me feel this way? I've tried to hide how I feel. I've tried to run away from it. But i'm done hiding and running. I pull her into the cabin and she locks the door behind her. I pull her back to my bedroom, simply because my bed is more comfortable.

I sit on the edge of the bed and crawl backwards until i'm leaning up against the head board. Bri crawls onto the bed and sits in front of me with her legs criss crossed. It takes all my will power not to peek and see what panties she's wearing.

"Haz, tell me please," she whispers.

Every time the name Haz fall from her plump lips my temperature rises.

"I was at uni getting my degree in psychology, so I lived with Abigail, we were married. She was a Respiratory therapist and she got home late around ten every night. But one night she got home at one in morning." I take a deep breath. "I had my suspicions, but she said she had to work late. She continued to come home at one for five months or so. The only action I got from her was a kiss. Until I came home around six in the evening and her car was in the drive."

*Flashback*

I park my car and smile. My heart rate increases and my palms become sweaty. Why am I so nervous? Maybe its because we haven't had a decent conversation in months. Or maybe because we haven't made love in months. Blood rushes straight to my groin at the thought of my beautiful wife beneath me, moaning my name, and clawing at my back, begging me to never stop.

I hurry out of the car and walk into the house. I look by the door and there are travel bags beside the door.

"Abbie?" I call.

"In the dining room," she calls back.

I set my coat on the rack and hurry into the dinning room. She's sitting at the table playing with her wedding band. I sit down across from her worried.

"What's going on? Why are there bags by the door? Where are you going?" I ask.

She looks me in the eyes and her light blue eyes almost make me melt in my seat.

"I'm not going anywhere. You are," she whispers.

I furrow a brow. "What do you mean? Abbie have you been taking you medicine?" I ask scared.

She scoffs. "Stop talking to me like i'm a fucking child Harry. I'm two years older than you for fuck's sake." She snaps.

I don't think she took her medicine. Abigail and I got married when I was nineteen and she was twenty one. We met in University when I was seventeen and she was nineteen, we fell for each other quick.