Page 68 of Tangled Desires

“You, Immy.” His voice drops low. “Always you.”

Heat coils in my stomach as his breath ghosts over my neck. He brushes his lips against my skin, and a shiver races down my spine, traitorous goosebumps prickling. His mouth finds the curve of my neck, nipping lightly before trailing to my earlobe.

“You look so good like this,” he murmurs. “Grease on your hands, bent over this hood... It’s driving me insane.”

My grip on the car frame tightens as his words unravel me. He nips again, his teeth grazing just enough to pull a quiet, involuntary sound from my throat. “What do you say, sugar?” His lips brush my ear, his voice a low rasp. “Shall I bend you over and fuck you right here? Make you come all over my cock?”

A sharp exhale escapes me, my pulse pounding in my ears. My thighs clench instinctively, a futile attempt to keep the ache at bay, but it’s no use. Every nerve is wired to him, every inch of me on edge and ready to snap. Temptation wraps around me tight, pulling me under. Of course, I’m soaked—he’s got me like clockwork, always has.

The corner of my mouth tugs upward. “Hm. Big promises like that mean you’d better deliver.”

“I always deliver.” His hand slides down, catching the waistband of my leggings. No hesitation, no second-guessing, and I let him. They’re gone in one smooth motion, and the cool air kisses my bare skin just before his mouth does. He’s on his knees like he belongs there, and fuck, maybe he does. The first touch of his tongue sparks a jolt so fast it buckles my knees.

“Fuck,” I bite out, my hands gripping the edge of the engine bay, knuckles white. My legs threaten to give way, but he holds me firm, dragging me deeper into the kind of pleasure that burns hot and fast, leaving nothing but wreckage. When Harrison finally stands, the unmistakable sound of his zipper fills the air and his body presses tightly against mine. His cock slides slowly against my slick pussy—teasing, taunting, claiming. His hands firmly grip my hips, steadying me as he pushes into me, causing my gasp to shift into a ragged moan.

“Jesus, Harrison,” I gasp, his piercings sending an addictive wave of pleasure with every thrust, the hard metal teasing me just right. There’s no thought of where we are or who might see. Just him filling me, the rhythm of skin slapping—breaking me apart and putting me back together with every thrust.

22

24 weeks

Issues - Julia Michaels

Just a Girl - No Doubt

“It’s so nice to be back,” Isla says, her voice laced with relief.

She’s talking about her week at the animal hospital while I dive into my lunch. The first bite of charcoal chicken hits the spot—like my life depends on it. I chew, nodding along as she recounts. “Grace has been a godsend with Callie. I swear, I was going stir-crazy at home. And it’s good to be back with theanimals—so much drama already. Had a husky puppy come in with a stick lodged in its throat! Took us ages to calm him down enough to get it out. And now he’s on meds, and his poor owner’s struggling to get him to take them.”

She laughs, shaking her head. “It’s always the stubborn ones that get themselves into the most trouble, right?”

I poke at my chips, barely tasting them as my mind keeps drifting back to Harrison’s words from that morning. It’s been two weeks since he opened up to me—and since we had sex at his shop. Everything seemed fine after that, but now, things feel different.

Sure, he’s probably dealing with a lot—both in his head and at work—but he hasn’t said much. Just quick greetings and brief conversations about random things, like the weather or what’s on TV. It feels like we’re drifting, stuck in some kind of limbo. I know dealing with everything he’s been through isn’t easy, and I’m not expecting immediate answers, but I can’t help but wonder what’s going on.

“Hello? Earth to Imogen.” Isla’s voice pulls me back.

“Sorry,” I mumble, setting my fork down. “Stubborn animals. Yeah, yeah. Got it.”

She arches her brow, not buying it. “I know when something’s up with you. What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

I sigh heavily, scanning the empty street like it might offer me a secret escape route. But it’s just us, the picnic table, and no place to hide. “It’s nothing.”

“Imogen…” she prompts with a frown. Well, I can’t wiggle my way out of this one.

“Harrison told me something the other night.”

Her frown deepens. “What did he say? Is everything alright?”

“Uh, well, it’s about his past.” I hesitate, glancing away. “I’m not sure I should be repeating it.”

“Oh, okay,” Isla replies softly. “His past, as in, how he grew up?”

I nod.

“I know bits and pieces, but not much,” Isla says. “You don’t have to tell me. I won’t push.”

Bits and pieces.Of course she does. Xavier probably filled her in. Frustration tightens my chest, and before I can stop it, a lump rises in my throat. My eyes sting, tears threatening to fall. I blink them away, swallowing hard.

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