THE TAYLORS [H.S]

32.

Tell me why the deadliest of sins always sounded so good. Why were they all just so tempting? It was a good thing I wasn't the religious type, or I would of been cursed to the deepest darkest parts of Hell a long time ago.

A bitter farewell was given to my brothers. As much as I tried to fight it, I had given in and wrapped them in a hug, almost getting the wind knocked out of me as Michael wrapped his overly large arms around my waist, soon followed by Trent and then Johnny.

I was now trapped between the walls of my house, a book perched on my knees, and the sinfully perfect view of Harry's back facing me. The sin of lust was something I was sure Harry gave into a lot, and as much as it irked me to think that he had given in with someone else, I couldn't help the arousal that swirled in the pit of my stomach at the thoughts of Harry with hooded eyes and swollen lips. Anyone who got to see that side of Harry was blessed, I thought bitterly.

"It's not polite to stare." His voice was heavy, and despite his eyes glued on the door in front of him, I could hear the hint of a smirk in his voice from somehow catching me staring.

Given that he wasn't even looking in my direction, I could of denied it, could of laughed it off and told him it was all in his head but I didn't like the idea of getting embarrassed, in my own house nonetheless.

Instead, I flipped the page of the book I hadn't even bothered to read, and continued to stare at his back, watching the tattoos flex as he moved his hands to reposition them.

"Just admiring the view," I answered cooly, smirking to myself as his body stiffened slightly. I was sure his mind was floating back to the time he had said the same words to me.

"Charming," he responded, though didn't bother to look back at me. I rolled my eyes. I supposed Professional Harry was out today, no signs of the devilish man I had met in the comforts of his bed.

"I suppose since you're my babysitter for a few weeks, I should let you know that I'm going out tonight."

Bingo. That made him look. With a raised eyebrow and a flatlined lip, he stared at me like a warning. "Is that so?"

I hummed to myself, the sudden butterflies erupting in my chest making me feel like a girl on her first day of school. I hated how he made me have childish like behavioural issues, but I couldn't deny I somewhat enjoyed the feeling. A little. Not a lot though.

"Yes. Problem?" I edged, raising an eyebrow.

It was bad I also enjoyed this little dance we had between each other, the type that made me want to push his buttons until his hand was hiking up my skirt and gripping onto my ass cheek, demanding I listened to him or I'd be punished.

The very thought was playing as a movie in my head, and I couldn't help but swallow at the thoughts. I wondered for a moment if this was what teenage boys felt on a daily basis, because the sudden hormonal change around Harry was making me feel all sorts of things, something I hadn't had the pleasure in feeling since I had discovered how to make myself orgasm.

"I thought I said you're not going out, Annabeth. Do I need to remind you that your brothers aren't in the country and I have things to do. I don't have the time to watch you twenty four seven."

His voice was rough, his jaw set. If I got to see that look every day, I might as well start at tally of how often I could annoy him to breaking point.

There was just something so dark and unholy in the way he stared at me, his dark eyes looking more like a deadly storm rather than the usual beautiful emeralds that he held onto closely.

It made the tattoos that peaked out look all the more dangerous. I didn't like how nervous his eyes still made me. I looked away, glancing out at the stormy weather that was starting to brew.