47.

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 Jo's P.O.V.

I don't need three appointments.

The thoughts begin racing through my mind as I bend over the sink, pooling the cool water from the tap into my hands and bringing it up to my skin, reveling in the feeling, but somehow begging it to wash away the burning underneath my skin that lingers from the way Harry touched me as I dropped him off at his penthouse.

"Are you sure you don't want to come inside?" He asks as he shifts in the passenger seat, reaching one of his hands forward to grab a strand of my hair, twisting it between his fingers lightly.

"I think we both know that isn't a good idea. I don't fuck on first appointments," I say as I lean forward into his touch, his fingers brushing against the side of my cheek as he retracts his hand.

"I think we're capable of behaving," he says with a laugh at my stupid joke as he leans forward ever so slightly over the center console.

"I'm glad you have so much faith, I'm not so sure on the other hand," I say as I copy his actions by leaning forward as well, the heat from his breath washing over my lips as we linger just far enough away from each other that we don't kiss just yet.

"You've been a little too cynical these days, Josephine," he says as his eyes flash between my eyes and lips.

"I think you'll come to find I'm more of a realist," I say in a matter of fact tone as I rest my own arms against the center console, brushing my fingertips along the skin of his hands that are rested there as I maintain what brief distance is left between our lips.

"Then you should be able to recognize that we are only capable of staying away from each other like this for so long," he says in a low voice.

"Recognizing it and feeding into it are two different things," I say as I feel my will to keep our lips apart from one another quickly fading.

He leans forward, our lips barely touching as he releases a frustrated breath from his lips.

"Just say the word and I'll get out of the car," he says in a quiet whisper.

Reaching over suddenly, I press the button on the door, unlocking the car, moving away from Harry's lips ever so slightly.

"Of course," he says under his breath as he shifts in his seat, adjusting his pants ever so slightly.

"See you later?" I say with a cheeky grin, knowing that this is getting under his skin just as much as it's getting under my own.

"Watch your back, Josephine," he says as he runs a hand through his hair, looking at me with a sigh of exasperation before moving to open the door.

"You'll get over it," I say as I shift to put my seatbelt on, moving to rest my hands on the steering wheel, "Bye Harry."

If I think too long, I could almost feel his fingertips still against my skin. The way his warm touch always seems to cascade against my face while he holds me into him, or right before our lips connected and intertwined with one another. I knew that if I gave in tonight, it wouldn't be the end. Things with Harry are so rarely what they seem to be, especially these days. It makes my head spin in a way that is so utterly intoxicating, so addictive, so wholly encapsulating.

I've been craving excitement, I've been craving the rush. The same feeling that came with sneaking out when my parents thought I was home, or the way it felt to almost getting caught by the paparazzi when I'm somewhere I'm not supposed to be, or the way it felt to be in a crowded room dancing with people at Under.

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