Page 92 of Perfect

He was very determined and I caved, shoving my sandals into my rucksack before carefully climbing onto his back. I had to step on the fence to give myself a boost, he was so tall.

I curled my denim short-clad legs around his waist, totally aware of every inch of my body. I tingled where we touched and held my breath.

Connor grabbed my legs with his arms to secure me. It was difficult to get my head around the fact that Connor was now between my legs and the thought sent my pulse racing.

I placed my arms around his neck and held on for dear life as he negotiated the rocky steps. As we ascended, I noted the concrete was severely corroded from the tide, I sure hoped they were safe.

It was fairly quiet, just the sounds of the sea and Connor’s breathing. My breasts were pressed against the solid muscle of his back and they felt heavy somehow.

“Connor, are you sure you’re OK to carry me?” I said into his good ear.

“I’m fine, you weigh, like, nothing.”

I knew he’d have no problem carrying me under normal circumstances, he was so strong and I was tiny but the guy did have busted ribs and bruising almost everywhere.

He carried me easily. We had a few wobbly moments which caused a bit of relieved chuckling here and there.

As we approached the bottom, I could smell the salt from the sea. We rounded a corner and then travelled down the last few steps and it opened up onto a secluded sandy cove. It was perfect. There was one other person there walking his dog. The waves swept up and down the beach like a caress.

Connor placed me on the sand, it was cool against my toes and I scrunched my feet up to feel the warm grains against my skin.

We looked out to sea for a minute before Connor caught me around the waist and tugged me towards him, his eyes watching my lips before he lowered his head and kissed me. A dog barked in the distance and when his lips met mine, nothing else mattered.

The breath was almost yanked from my lungs as our mouths moved together, greedily, like they had been craving the contact for so long.

His kiss was demanding and as usual, he took control, his hands moving along my back and then up into my hair. I wanted him to carry on kissing me more than I wanted air. It felt so perfect and I pushed myself up onto my tip toes to give him deeper access.

I imagine we stood there on the sand in the sea air, locked together for quite some time but it still wasn’t enough. I was alive when he was touching me and I wanted more, so much more.

I moaned my disappointment against his mouth as he drew away.

Connor stared down into my upturned face, running his thumb down my cheek, a content expression on his face. I looked up into his eyes, thinking how long his eyelashes were for a boy.

“You’re so sweet, pure. You don’t really belong with me Harlow,” he said, his voice husky from our kiss.

I smiled reassuringly. “I can be annoying when I want to be,” I put back gently with a smile.

His grin was brief.

“Youshouldn’twant me. I’m not an easy person to be with. I’m moody. I get irritable quickly and struggle with my temper. Especially when I’m off my medication.”

I pulled back slightly and pushed a chunk of hair back from my eyes. His voice was suddenly quite grave.

“I don’t care, I’mdonepretending and as for your moods, I think I’ve seen my fair share, I know what to expect now and it doesn’t scare me,” I replied, running my hands up his chest to rest them there.

Connor placed his own hands on the top of mine. Covering them with his strong fingers, it made me feel safe.

“Why were you so mean to me when we met?” I questioned shyly, not sure I wanted to hear the answer. If he had genuinely thought me a self-involved princess with nothing to say for herself, it would have made me sad.

He half shrugged, unsure himself it appeared.

“I think it must have been a self-preservation thing. I resented you before we’d even met.”

My brow creased at that. “Really?”

He nodded, running his thumb gently across my fingers, almost like he was apologising. “I was probably jealous. Mike talked about you all the time, day and night. He cared so much about you. I’d never had that from my dad. I guess I craved it. When he showed me your picture, you were sofuckingperfect, it wound me up even more. Then when I saw you at the party, I felt an immediate attraction and that also pissed me off. I felt out of control again. Not necessarily the way I’d felt as a kid, but I didn’t like the way it made me feel. I can’t stand weakness.

You lit up the room, I made sure I kept my distance and sat as far away from you as I could on purpose, so as not to let you in. I remember the way everyone hung on your every word and I knew I needed to mess with you. Like a boy who pulls the wings off daddy-long legs and enjoys watching them suffer. As I said, so fucking perfect.” He paused for thought, obviously troubled by his past behaviour and snap judgements. “I was a dick. Forgive me?” He said, taking my hand.

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