Leader Of The Mafia {h.s}

023

Bree Tyler

I fell asleep watching a rom-com on the couch. I had woken up a little bit ago, I had no idea what time it was; but according to what's behind the thick drapes, it was still night.

I heard footsteps approaching downstairs, I flicked my head over my shoulder and saw Harry, no surprise. The only surprise was there was no shirt on his body, only boxers. My eyes went wide as I saw his tall figure.

"What are you doing awake, Breelyn?" Harry smirked, sliding next to me on the couch as he put his hands behind his head, his feet almost touched my thigh as he was laying on the couch.

"I fell asleep, but I didn't stay asleep for a long time. I guess I'm just not tired." I shrugged, when I looked back over at him, the cross pendant was sticking between his teeth and he had a shit eating smirk on his face.

The way his tattoos flowed down his body was mesmerizing, it seemed as if his tatted skin was his own personal journal, rather than a book filled with paper.

I imaged myself straddling his lap as my
hands slowly slid down his warm and bare chest, as his breathing would start to pick up when I touched him in all the right places that sent shivers up his spine.

I needed to rid my lustful thoughts, our lustful kiss was only a one time thing, right?

"God." I muttered under my breath out of frustration, it was so hard to resist him. "Can I have a cigarette, please?" I asked Harry, as soon as I asked he began to dig through his pockets.

"Here you go, cigarette slut." He handed the cigarette to me as he used a pet name, then motioned me with his hands to c'mere. I nodded, getting on my hands and knees my face was hovering over his, as Harry flicked the lighter on and I felt him light the tip of my cigarette and the smoke travel into my lungs. The cross pendant never left his clenched teeth. I sat back down on the couch in my original seat, as the smoke flew into the air from my lips.

"You have a lot of tattoos." I mumbled through the stick that sat in my mouth. I looked his torso up and down, then his arms, then his neck...

"I do, don't I?" Harry muttered between the religious symbol in his mouth.

"What do they all mean?" I asked.

Harry shrugged his shoulders, "I've gotten most of them when I was drunk or high, so I couldn't tell you."

"Oh." I nodded, "I have a tattoo as well." I took the cigarette between my two fingers.

"You do?" Harry asked out of shock as he gazed me up and down, "you don't seem the type to have anything tatted on you."

"Well I do." I stated proudly, proving him wrong. 

"Okay. Where is it? I don't see it anywhere on you." Harry looked me up and down again.

I couldn't show him where the tattoo was, one of the stoners that went to school with me tattooed something on me when I was drunk because, I really wanted a tattoo, and that's what I got.

"I have something tatted on my ass." I chuckled slightly, and Harry furrowed his brows.

"Who tattooed you?" Harry asked, suddenly seeming a little angry; and I did not know why. I was taken back by his switch of attitude to say the least.

"Just one of my guy friends, he did it while I was drunk and he was high." I shrugged a little bit, I was so drunk that night yet I remember everything that happened that long time ago in high school.