18. Just a Kiss

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We don't need to rush this; Let's just take it slow - Lady Antebellum

11:26 AM, Saturday, December 11, 2021

The room is chilly, and Chele attributes it to the wall of windows onto the deck outside. As soon as the door clicks shut, Harry's hands frame her face as his mouth lowers to hers. With that, her entire body begins to warm up, starting at their conjoined lips. The heat spreads to her right cheek where his left thumb is caressing a track that makes her skin tingle. As his hand wanders over her shoulder and around to the curve of her spine, sparks ignite along the pathway.

Holy luscious lips! The last two weeks drop away, and it's like she's back in Nowhere, nestled again in Harry's arms. Home. Where no one cares if she and Harry hang out until the wee hours of the morning. Where they can jog to Liz's farm or dance the night away at Ballz or fence in the park without anyone paying the least bit of attention to them. She's missed this. Him. Them.

Her hands grasp his forearms in an attempt to anchor herself before she floats away on the heavenly cloud that is a kiss from Harry. With a gasp, she parts her lips and the two humans become one with no indication of where her mouth stops or his begins. Time drops away and stands still, and she's confident that she can survive on Harry's kisses alone. No food or drink necessary. Tangled tongues. Roving hands. Clasped fingers that bring them even closer to one being. He steps into her, and she reciprocates the movement, leaving less than a hair's breadth between them.

A sound escapes her, somewhere between a strangled moan and an erotic growl. Moving their united hands behind him, she attempts to climb into his skin. To create no discernible space between them so that they resemble a melded statue. When she whimpers, he extricates his hands, placing them on her upper arms as he gentles the kiss, taking deep breaths when he places his forehead on hers.

Chele wants more. Her fingers reach for him, and he smiles as she grasps the material of his hoodie, twisting the cloth in her hands.

"Shhhhh," he whispers to her. "I've missed you too, baby. We need to pace ourselves."

Indeed they do. Alone less than five minutes, and she's ready to give him her very soul. Yet she knows he's right. With a mountain of willpower, she nods before backing away, her hands lingering on him as her fists release the soft fabric before smoothing out the sections where she bunched it up just seconds prior.

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11:31 AM, Saturday, December 11, 2021

There is nothing he wants more at this moment than to take her. Completely. Sweep her off her feet, carry her into the bedroom, and lay her tenderly on the covers. To remove her clothing slowly, one piece at a time, kissing each inch of skin that is exposed. Make love to her all night long. Gorge himself on her until they are both sated.

Yet he knows that these next hours are stolen time. When he fully makes her his, he wants them both to be committed to a future. To forever. It's silly. He knows this. She's looking at him, her eyes pleading him to take the lead. But he's promised himself (and silently the Ps) that he will wait until he can have her by his side for the rest of his life.

Mushy? Yes. Sentimental? Absolutely. But his heart won't let his cock take what's not yet promised to him.

Clearing his throat, he gestures to the suitcase she carried on the elevator. "Does everything in there need to be laundered?"

Suddenly shy, she turns away from him. "No," her small voice responds. "I'll, uh, I'll get out what needs to be cleaned."

Moving towards the sitting room, she stumbles over the carpet, and he clutches her elbow, holding her upright. She freezes.

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