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Stealing Harper(3)

By:Molly McAdams


“On or over?” she asked, and was already reaching for the button on her shorts.

That’s what I liked about Natalie. No bullshit with her. Just sex. She had a guy back home, and I didn’t want a relationship. “Over.” I pulled a condom out of my wallet and shed my pants and boxer briefs before rolling it on. Natalie was already bent over the countertop, and I didn’t waste any time.

We both groaned when I slammed into her; I kept one hand on her hip, the other went to her shoulder. I looked at the long blond hair falling across her back and onto the countertop, and my eyes shut as images of auburn hair filled my head. What is it about that girl? I’d seen her for all of three minutes, and already she was consuming my mind this way? Why? She was disgusted with me . . . that was more than apparent. That had to be it. I was used to this, used to tonight. The blonde earlier, the redhead in the kitchen, and now Natalie. I wasn’t used to insignificant girls not wanting me. And she had no idea how bad that was for her. It just made the challenge that much better. I would get her. And I would enjoy breaking her heart. I almost smiled to myself, but then flashes of her wide, innocent, gray eyes and her perfectly white teeth digging into her lips assaulted me. I thought about biting that lip, and my thrusts quickened; thought about her underneath me and in my arms, and I gripped Natalie tightly as I came harder than I ever had before.

“Hell, Chase,” she said roughly, her breathing ragged.

“I’m sorry.” I took a deep breath in and released her before sliding out.

“Why are you apologizing—that was—just holy crap.”

I wanted to ask what else she expected. But I hadn’t even lasted four minutes and had been so lost in a gray-eyed princess that I don’t even remember it. “Get dressed, Natalie.”

After pulling on my own clothes and waiting for her to situate herself, I unlocked the door and led us back into the hall. Without another word, I let go of her and went toward my room in another part of the house. Once I was locked in, I groaned into my hands. What the hell just happened? Why had I pictured her in that way? Sex only, making love never. Those images had definitely been me making love to her, and how was I already getting hard again thinking about this? And about her, especially? That’s it, it’s official . . . there’s something wrong with my dick. She’s a challenge, yeah, but that’s all.

Shutting my eyes tightly, I tried to think about anything other than her and those fucking mesmerizing eyes, but nothing was helping. With a frustrated groan, I shot off the bed and dug around my desk until I found my latest sketchpad. I focused on some pieces I was working on for myself, as well as my buddy Brian at the shop, and tried to push that girl out of my mind. And no, the fact that I hid the word “princess” within the design I wanted to complete my right sleeve had nothing to do with her or the fact that I couldn’t stop thinking about her. At all. Fuck. I slammed my sketchpad shut and shoved it into my desk.

I stretched my arms and back before leaving my room and locking the door behind me. I’d almost gotten to the end of the hallway when I heard Drew’s loud slur.

“YYYEEEAAAH, Bree and fresh meat are sleeping over tonight!”

I figured “fresh meat” was Bree’s new roommate and felt bad for once again forgetting to meet her. I needed to make sure my sister wasn’t going to be rooming with some crazy person. When I got into the living room, Bree was over taking shots with Drew and Zach, and there, standing near the doors to the backyard, was my gray-eyed princess. This better be a fucking mistake.

Plastering a smile on my face, I couldn’t help but embrace the images that were now burned into my mind, “Well, well. If it isn’t the princess.”

She froze when she heard me, and as she turned to look at me, her eyes narrowed, and the fakest smile I’ve ever seen crossed her face. “I almost didn’t recognize you without a tramp attached.”

Seriously, who the hell does she think she is? I leaned close and whispered harshly in her ear, “Would you like to change that? I’m not up to my limit tonight yet.”

The princess leaned away, and her eyes went wide, “Oh, I’m sorry, but I don’t have any STDs, I’m not your type.”

Bree started choking, and I knew I should make sure she was okay, but my jaw had dropped, and I couldn’t stop staring at his frustrating girl. “Chase, you better stay away from my roommate. I told the guys she’s off-limits.”

I cringed at Bree’s words. Not a mistake. This really was her roommate.

“You know him?” the princess asked, hardly trying to contain her revulsion.