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“If you had any other choice, would you still want to be in this position?” I ask Clara. “To be part of our family?”
“Absolutely not. I get it. It just sucks.”
“Yep.”
My mood has dipped with the reminder of why I’m staying away from Harlow, but I try and hide it for the duration of breakfast. Clara doesn’t get to leave the compound very often, and she doesn’t need to spend her freedom watching her brother mope over a girl. We chat and laugh and eat huge portions of huevos rancheros, but I feel the strain of putting on this show every minute. As soon as I drop her off with her bodyguards to drive her back into the compound—no way I’m going there unnecessarily—I feel my whole body sag.
I drive back past the coffee shop, even though it lengthens my drive slightly, and park opposite to catch a glimpse of Harlow. The shop is back open, and there she is, behind the counter, smiling politely at her next customer. That’s how she should be—living her normal life with her normal job and no danger, existing peacefully and radiating happiness as she does it. Even knowing that, I can’t stop thinking about her. She’s all I think about most of the time. The reason I study so hard is to make sure I know the answers when she asks me for help. She took an interest in my course, and I want to make sure I can give her any answer, fix anything for her, but I also want to risk it all and make my move.
I can’t, though. I can’t get her involved in this shit. I can’t be the reason she’s in danger because I couldn’t keep it in my pants. But god, it’s hard. She’s the perfect juxtaposition, looking like pure innocence to the world with her bright blue eyes and blond hair, yet I know how intelligent and quick and funny she is—a side I don’t think that many people get to see. And now I’ve seen another side to her, too: the flirty vixen. God, what I wouldn’t give to be on the receiving end of Harlow’s flirty remarks.
When I’m home alone in my own space, I let my mind wander to just how fucking good it would feel. Watching her look up at me through those fluttery lashes. The blush thatIcaused creeping over her chest. Biting her full bottom lip between her teeth. I’ve only ever seen her do that when she’s worrying, but wondering if she does it when she’s feeling coy too gives me a whole new fantasy. Predictably, my dick throbs.
Jumping into the shower, I imagine that I’ll actually get to do this with her one day. Have her tan legs wrapped around me while I grab her tiny waist.Barbieis right, and it’s not surprising it’s the first impression people get about Harlow. She’s so dainty, but if you paid an iota of attention to her as a person, you’d know she never gives off a vibe that she needs protecting. There’s so much more going on behind those gorgeous eyes.
Now I picture those eyes staring up at me as she takes me into her mouth, plump lips swollen around me. That’s enough torture for one day, and I spill into the steady stream of water, letting it drain before I wash myself. I have a physicalneedfor Harlow that gets harder and harder to control. These sessions need to hurry up and be over so I have no reason to be alone with her.
