Page 31 of Unwanted
Chapter14
Where I was meant to be
Verity
After the pub, Harry didn’t go back to his hotel. I grabbed his hand as we were leaving and that seemed to say it all. On the taxi ride back to my house I was still feeling murderous about those bastards who’d made Harry’s life miserable at school, and he could sense my anger.
“It was a long time ago, Verity,” he muttered, giving my hand a squeeze. “It’s best to let these things go. Kids can be cruel.”
Well, that might be true, but those ‘kids’ were seventeen- to eighteen-year-old, over-privileged shits who should have known the difference between right and wrong. And anyway, it wasn’t just them I was angry with.
“I can’tbelieveI didn’t notice what was going on,” I said through my teeth. “You must have thought I was so self-absorbed. And if I’d known I was making it worse I…”
“It’s not your fault.” He cleared his throat and continued in a tight voice. “Listen, I don’t want you feeling sorry for me, or–”
“I don’t feel sorry for you. I feel like I want to rip some heads off, but I don’t feel sorry for you.” I paused for a moment then continued carefully. “Harry, is what happened why you… I mean why you’re so different now? From back then I mean… you used to be more–”
“More of a skinny dweeb?”
“No! I–”
“It’s okay, I seem to remember you admitting you had a crush on that skinny dweeb.” He smiled a very smug smile, and I rolled my eyes. “Well, in a way the bullying did contribute, but there were other factors at play. See, there was this girl I liked, and I thought she’d been playing me–”
“Harry, for God’s sake I didn’t–”
“–and I think that had more effect on me than the bullies. That summer after… well, after everything happened, I started working out, getting stronger. By the time I got to uni I wasn’t a skinny dweeb anymore, but I still had a long way to go confidence-wise. That’s when I met Toby and Naomi. They sorted the rest out for me. Wouldn’t let me hide in my room. Showed me how to flirt with women. How to be confident.”
At that point we arrived at my house. As the taxi pulled away Harry looked up my drive with an astonished expression on his face.
“This was not what I was expecting,” he said in a bewildered voice, and I smiled. I lived in a small cottage a short drive inland from the beach. I was aware that it probably wasn’t the kind of house people would picture Verity Markham living in. Probably people imagined me in a house much more like Max’s or Heath’s – modern, large, clean lines. But I was all about small, cosy, homely – everything in my home needed to be about comfort. My childhood had given me enough of a taste of large, impersonal houses to last a lifetime. I could tell Harry was even more taken aback by the interior. I had a country kitchen with warm wood floors and an AGA that was on all year round. My living room had a huge log burner and was stuffed with colourful sofas and squashy armchairs in mustard, blues and pinks.
“Surprised?” I said smiling up at Harry as he stood on the threshold to my living room. He tilted his head to the side and surveyed it all in its squashy, comforting glory.
“No,” he said finally, turning away from the room to stare directly at me. “It suits you. At school you always wanted the cosiest corner and the warmest radiator. I can see you wanting this type of home.”
“People assume that because I have money and I’m an architect I’d want to live in some vast modern nightmare. I love Max’s house, but the industrial look does not float my boat. Not for my home. I like to be warm.”
“I think it’s beautiful,” he muttered, moving closer, his hand going up to slide up my jawline to tilt my face to his. “So beautiful,” he said again this time with his lips a hair’s breadth from mine. I sucked in a short breath before my mouth closed over his and the world fell away. That feeling of absolute rightness swept through me as my mouth opened under his, and my arms wrapped around his broad muscular back.
This was where I was meant to be, right here in Harry’s arms. How had I ever thought for a moment that I could exist any other way? We broke apart for a moment, our foreheads still pressed together. Harry was breathing heavily, his pupils were huge. He pulled away slightly to scan my face.
“Is this okay? I don’t want to push you into anything that you–”
My fingers on his lips cut him off. I smiled up at him. “I’m not sixteen anymore, Harry. This is more than okay.”
“But do you trust me?” he whispered, and my smile fell slightly.
I looked up at him for a moment before closing the distance between our mouths again and pushing my hand up his shirt to feel the muscles of his back under warm skin. A small involuntary moan left my throat which seemed to trigger a slip in his control. His arms closed around me and pulled me into him, my softness against his hardness, fitting perfectly, melting together. The kiss became more urgent and a low rumbly sound, almost like a growl, vibrated from deep in his chest. He started walking me backwards towards my sofa without breaking the kiss, his hands moving under my shirt. He grasped the hem with both hands and pulled it over my head and onto the floor. Then he froze. I watched him swallow as he scanned me in my white lace bra. I felt a flush spread from my chest up to my cheeks under his gaze.
“Jesus Christ,” he said in a hoarse voice as he moved into my space again, his hands skimming my stomach up to my breasts. “You are so much more beautiful than I could ever have imagined.” He lowered his mouth to mine again, one of his hands now going to my hair whilst the other cupped my breast. “And when it comes to you,” he said in my ear after breaking the kiss to move his mouth along my jawline and neck, “I have a very good imagination – twenty years’ worth of it.” I tried not to hyperventilate or pass out with the swooping, dizzy feeling of intense desire and need which was making me more and more lightheaded. The backs of my legs came up against the sofa then and Harry lowered me down onto it in a swift movement that again took my breath away. Before I knew it, he’d worked on my jeans, pulled them free, and his fully clothed body was pushing mine into the sofa cushions. I broke the kiss to let out another small moan before my hands went to the hem of his shirt and started yanking it frantically in a much less smooth way than he had managed to remove all my clothes.
“Off,” I snapped, continuing to wrestle with his stubborn shirt. He let out a low laugh which I felt everywhere as his hard body was fully pressed against me.
“Patience never was your thing,” he said against my mouth but then did finally pull his shirt over his head and chuck it away. The compression shirt I’d seen him in that day at his house hadn’t done his body justice. The definition of his broad chest and his ridged stomach was so much better in the flesh. My breath hitched in my throat as I ran my hands over his glorious skin. He gave a light shiver under my touch and his jaw clenched tight before his hands came up to push the hair away from my face and kiss me again. He was rocking against me now and I could feel how hard he was through his jeans.
I let out another moan as I moved with him, fervent teenage fantasies and desperation giving a sharp quality to the very real adult lust. His hand moved to my chest and pulled the cup of my bra down then he was kissing down from my mouth to my neck then further, his stubble rubbing against my skin as his mouth made its way to my breasts, finally pulling one of my nipples into his mouth, eliciting a startled moan from me. His other hand had snaked round to release my bra in another smooth move which almost jerked me out of the moment – it was so un-Harry-like.
In fact, as I focused on him through the haze of lust I could just sense that his moves were a little too practised. Images of all the women he must have been with flashed through my mind – streams of models and actresses, and a flash of jealousy shot through me. I didn’t want Harry’s practised moves, I wanted uncontrolled, unsophisticated Harry. I wanted him to feel as overwhelmed as I did. But now his other hand was at the waistband of my knickers and as he went lower and then exactly where I needed him all other thoughts shot out of my mind, my back arched, and I sucked in a sharp breath. The pads of his large fingers pressed exactly on my centre, rubbing with just the right amount of pressure. I was spiralling up and up, my body stringing tight under Harry as I built towards the edge, but I knew I didn’t want to go there alone. I didn’t want to be the only one out of control. I needed it to be with Harry.
