Obsession (Dangerous Love #1)

CHAPTER 14

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FEELINGS IN INK

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I opened my eyes in the sunlight and felt more rested than I had in months.

I rubbed my eyes and swallowed a yawn when I realized that something was holding me down, my back stuck to a hard abdomen, a naked one.

Startled, I turned around and was left breathless by Harris next to me, his bare chest and bottom covered by the blanket as he hugged me to him like I was a fluffy teddy bear.

I mumbled something, but he didn’t wake up.

My instinct told me to walk away, but the sight of him would not let me.

He was no longer a demon.

Sleep made his frown, cheeky smile and angry look disappear.

Now he was an angel.

His black curls lay in disarray on my pillow and his forehead, and his full, pink lips were slightly parted as he breathed in and out, the warm air he exhaled wafting over my shoulder.

I wanted to kiss him, sleepy as he was.

I swallowed and wondered if he was completely naked next to me. Slowly, I lifted the blanket, my blood pressure rising with every second that passed. If he was naked, I really didn’t want him to know that I had done this, I was planning on hitting him over his head with a pillow as soon as I pulled the blanket back up. I heaved a sigh of relief when I saw he had his boxers on.

I was dressed, and it seemed he had not touched anything, but when the hell had he taken his clothes off?

He hadn’t done anything the night before and I was still shocked by that. Maybe he only had his boxers on now, but when I had fallen asleep, he had only taken off his boots. Had he been singing to me?

This moment was very unclear. I was sure that at some point, as I lay in the arms of sleep, I had heard a voice humming an old lullaby, but I couldn’t figure out if it was Harris or if I had dreamed it. I’d definitely dreamed it.

He had held me in his arms, stroked my hair and my back, and made no sexual innuendos. I had fallen asleep with his breath and his lips on my forehead.

I allowed myself a closer look at him. When I saw him lying almost naked next to me, I was more certain than ever that he wasn’t quite human.

His face was breathtaking, his bone structure seemed to have been carved by the hands of a god obsessed with masculine perfection. His muscles looked as if he was tense, even now that he was relaxed and asleep. A strange warmth came over me as I saw the V-line leave his hips and disappear behind the fabric of his boxers. An indomitable feeling took hold of me, and I wanted to touch him.

I pulled the blanket even lower, revealing his legs. I swallowed audibly when I saw what was hidden under his underwear.

All right, so I wasn’t the only one who was aroused. Luckily, I had nothing to prove it.

I bit my lip and quickly pulled the blanket back up before any more crazy ideas popped into my head. I winced when I heard him laugh and turned my head towards him, only to see him looking at me with an amused and sleepy face.

“Why did you take your clothes off?” I spoke quickly, as if the accusation was going to cover the way I was staring at him.

“You seemed to enjoy the sight a few seconds ago,” he purred against my skin.

I could have sworn his sleepy voice sounded exactly like the purr of a giant, perverted cat.

“When did you get undressed?” I continued.

“After you fell asleep. I hate sleeping with my clothes on, and I was tempted to take off my underwear too, but I was afraid you’d sexually assault me in my sleep.”

I looked at him indignantly.

“You wish,” I muttered.

He grinned like a cat and kissed me, then turned onto his back and stretched out his body – a body that barely fit in my bed. His feet fell over the edge, and as he relaxed, his bones cracked, a clear sign that he hadn’t slept well.

“It wasn’t a restful night, was it?”

He looked at me curiously as he stretched his arms over his head. He was on the verge of banging his fists against the wall.

“Why do you say that?”

I pointed at him, amused.

“You’re all stiff.”

He chuckled and turned back to me.

“I will admit I didn’t have much room, but I’m not complaining about it, that’s what made you stay in my arms all night.”

That strange warmth returned, but it was no longer arousal. I clutched the pillow and looked at him intently.

“It was nice,” I admitted, holding back from asking him how the night he had wanted so much was.

He took my chin between his fingers and smiled.

“That’s a good word for it. Nice. Calm. Amazing. Even though I could not move, it was the best sleep I have had in years, and that speaks volumes.”

He looked down, seemingly lost in his own head, his own consciousness. I didn’t want to ask any more questions, although I was very curious about his thoughts.

I was distracted by his tattoos. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen them, but now I could analyze them.

I sat up and stroked my fingers over the impressive vulture that reigned on his chest. Now I noticed that the bird had a furious expression. It reminded me of something, I had seen it before… but where?

“What’s the meaning of this?” I traced the lines of the open wings spreading across Harris’s chest with my fingertips. The bird’s head was level with his sternum, and its tail extended over his belly.

“It’s a Harris Hawk.”

I lifted my head in confusion.

“What?!”

Harris smiled.

“That’s the name of this bird, Harris Hawk.”

My mouth fell open in surprise and I quickly made the connection.

“Does it have anything to do with your name?”

“Yes. My mother always told me that you’re supposed to turn into a hawk when you are surrounded by snakes.”

I stared at him in shock. Harris Hawk was a vulture that could hunt snakes. What circumstances had Harris been born into that his mother had given him that name? I remembered Kristen’s explanation that his mother gave him that name because she liked birds, and while there was a slight connection to the hawk, it wasn’t that close to the truth. The reality was much more logical and serious than my friend’s ridiculous hypothetical.

“So, your name is not Harrison,” I concluded.

He laughed.

“No, just Harris,” he winked at me and nodded.

“The Harris Hawk is a bird of prey, it can hunt like a falcon, that’s where the name combo comes from, but it’s not a typical species. It can be gentle and friendly. It hunts in a flock, not alone like the other birds of prey of its kind, and that makes it stronger. That’s why my mother has a special sympathy for this vulture, it’s good and bad at the same time. You have to be strong to face your enemies, but you should not forget that you also have friends who can help you. Be strong, but don’t forget kindness, or you will become a copy of the one who wants to bring you down.”

Harris no longer seemed to be speaking directly to me, he was repeating his mother’s words like a personal mantra, and I remained small beside him.

I had found the connection: Harris was a tough guy, but he also had a group of friends who seemed to be a real family to him, and I witnessed his aggressive behavior, but also his gentle demeanor. He could be both, and with the utmost professionalism.

“It always takes the food chain into account,” he looked me in the eye, and I flinched, still engrossed in his explanation.

“Snakes are part of everyone’s life, they are enemies. But you can choose to be the mouse or the hawk.”

I smiled as I realized this.

“The snake eats the mouse, but the hawk eats the snake.”

Harris smiled and nodded.

“I choose to be the hawk. You?”

I blinked and shook my head.

“I never thought about it until now. I think I could be a mouse with wings and a beak.”

Harris bit his lip to stifle his laughter. He grabbed my hand and pulled me closer to him.

“I could still eat you,” he whispered, and I shuddered.

I swallowed.

Our conversation had taken a completely different turn, and I stood up from him, shaking my head. His smile was paralyzing.

Before I could clear my head, I was surprised by another tattoo he had on the right side of his abdomen. A huge snake that slithered up to his ribs, started at his hip and ended near his armpit. The enemy.

I touched the reptile with my fingertips. Harris watched me calmly and intently. I knew all of this was connected, but I seemed to forget how. As soon as I looked into Harris’s black eyes, I remembered where I had seen all these things: in my dream.

The snake, the hawk … they were both part of my dream, and I almost whimpered when I realized it.

“What’s wrong?” Harris sat up next to me.

I shook my head, trying to calm myself down.

“So, snakes represent enemies,” I concluded.

Harris nodded.

“Then why do you have a tattoo of it?”

“An enemy is a constant threat. If you can’t escape it, you shouldn’t forget that it exists. On the other hand,” he paused and took a deep breath, “I was my own worst enemy for a long time. A merciless sycophant who preyed on the weak. It was not until very late that I dared to compare myself to a hawk, but I am still fighting to live up to my name.”

I swallowed and looked him in the eye. At first, I’d underestimated him, thinking he had so many tattoos to look dangerous.

Harris’s skin was a whole story.

Each tattoo had a meaning for the person who wore it. A feeling, a pain, a joy, a pleasure… something that represented its owner in one way or another.

And then there was my dream, just as I had seen them all before. The vulture or hawk was surely Harris, who saved me from the snake and from now on looked after me, as he had promised in my dream.

I shook my head and tried to clear my mind. Surely, I was dreaming too much for my mind.

He was still looking at me intently, and I tried to change the subject of “snakes and hawks”. I turned my attention to his other tattoos and noticed the Roman numerals on his arms again.

“My mom’s birthday,” He spoke before I could ask.

I took a closer look at the numbers, and after a quick calculation, his mother was about thirty-seven years old. Extremely young, and considering Harris was now nineteen, she gave birth to him at eighteen, even younger than my mother was when she had me.

Harris noticed my curiosity but didn’t say anything. We looked at each other for a while. Was it possible that we had been born under the same circumstances? As the mistakes of unconscious teenagers? Suddenly I had so many questions, but I closed my mouth to avoid asking them.

Surrounding these numbers was a sea of images whose meaning I couldn’t quite fathom.

Two roses, one with thorns, the other without. The one without thorns was beautiful and lively, the other seemed rotten, with deformed petals, hard to look at. Underneath were two flaming angel wings and above them two hate-filled demonic eyes. Harris was the demon, he had wings on his car, so they were probably describing him. I looked at him again and noticed he was serious, analyzing my every reaction.

“What’s your mom like?” I asked without realizing it.

The word “mom” was a stab to my heart, but I wanted to know more about his family, about why he lived with his friends.

A sweet smile spread across his face.

“She’s the most amazing woman in the world,” he spoke with more admiration than I ever gave him credit for.

It hurt me from the inside out. In the past, I had said the same thing about my mother.

“You don’t live with your family?”

He frowned briefly.

“No,” and he paused, wanting to say something else, but he didn’t seem to know how.

I decided not to put any pressure on him. It was clear that he loved his mother and probably both of his parents, but his rebellious behavior somehow made him want to push them away. He went with his flock.

I lowered my gaze to his body again. There were so many things to see that it would have probably taken me hours to fully analyze him. On his lower abdomen, above his pelvis, he had a tattoo of two wolf cubs. They met below his belly button and stretched their paws towards each other without touching. I thought this was the most beautiful tattoo he had, the hawk and snake were too dark, but these wolf cubs looked almost gentle. I was curious as to what they meant to Harris, but he spoke before me:

“Katherine?!”

I lifted my head to him.

“What happened to your mother?”

I swallowed. I had to remind myself that Harris had been thinking about this since he heard Amber and, when he came here, saw that I was living with my father.

“She left me for money,” I replied quickly, feeling the anger flare up in me again, and I couldn’t suppress my frown.

Harris looked at me, not understanding my sudden anger.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I added, standing up and trying to get out of bed.

Harris grabbed my hand before I could put a foot on the floor.

“Hey, hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” he spoke softly and scooted close to me on the edge of the bed. “Come back here.”

I closed my eyes and tried to calm down. What really calmed me was Harris’ kiss on the back of my neck.

“What’s that?” he suddenly jumped up, a hint of amusement in his tone.

I turned to him, uncomprehending, and immediately felt his fingers on my lower back, lifting my tank top. He saw my tattoo.

“What’s that tattoo?” he said like an enthusiastic child, pulling me back onto my stomach in bed and bending over my tattoo as if he’d discovered the map of Atlantis.

I laughed.

“I have two.”

Grinning, I bent my knee and lifted my right foot to show him the ankle where I’d tattooed the thorn bracelet. He looked at it closely.

“Why thorns?”

Shit! No one had ever asked me that before, no one thought this tattoo had any meaning.

“I had it done when… I knew my time as a dancer was over.”

I didn’t tell him any more details as I didn’t feel able to talk about it, but Harris seemed to understand the rest of the story very well. He surprised me when he tenderly kissed my ankle.

“Why the thorns in the S?”

I couldn’t help myself since he’d opened the subject.

He smiled; his lips still pressed to my skin.

“I knew you were going to ask that.”

I raised an eyebrow, waiting for clarification.

He sighed and pulled back.

“I’m pretty sure you know why. In my case, the meaning of the thorns isn’t that profound.”

I bit my lip.

“Thorns can be poisonous, but in your case, they emphasize possession. I have seen Amber’s up close; those thorns seem to dig into her skin like claws she can’t escape.”

I didn’t like making such connections, especially since we were talking about the official girlfriend of the man who had slept in my bed all night.

Harris looked at my back, where my wings were tattooed.

“I am poisonous and possessive. You described me perfectly.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and tried to stay calm; after all, he hadn’t mentioned he wanted me to have it done.

“Wild angel,” he said softly, stroking his fingertips over the lettering – probably over the wings too – “it suits you,” he added and smiled. “But what kind of amateur did this?”

Suddenly he became indignant, and I turned around, startled.

“The shadows on the wings are all wrong,” he mumbled and traced his finger as if to correct the mistakes.

I turned onto my back and pulled down my tank top.

“Oh, and you’re an expert on everything,” I huffed, mocking him.

“I think I am,” he grinned arrogantly at me and stretched his arms forward.

I looked at him for a few seconds before I realized what he was talking about.

“You made these?!” I asked, completely impressed.

They were extraordinary, obviously done by an artist, unlike the unemployed drunk who had tattooed me last summer. He waggled his eyebrows cheekily, which clearly meant yes.

I opened my mouth, a surprised smile on my lips, and touched his arms again.

“So, you’re the one who tattoos necks too, huh?”

He grinned guiltily.

“You didn’t think I had taken each of them to a tattoo parlor, did you? Where’s the charm in that?”

I rolled my eyes.

“I can help you redo it if you want,” he said, and I frowned in confusion. “The tattoo,” he explained, and I shook my head.

He gave me a puppy dog face that looked funny on his face. I looked him in the eye again and since I was already tormented enough by it, I needed to know the truth.

“Can I ask you something else?” I began uncertainly.

He smiled, grabbed me by the waist and surprised me by sitting me on his lap. I tried to concentrate and not think about the hardness I was sitting on. He was only wearing his boxers, for heaven’s sake.

“Anything.”

I bit my lip slowly. I seemed to be on the softer side of Harris Hawk. That was a good thing, too.

“Why are you wearing contacts?”

His black eyes grew amused.

“How do you know I wear contacts?”

I didn’t break eye contact with his black irises and shrugged.

“They can’t be real. I’ve never seen anyone with eyes as black as yours.”

Harris smiled.

“Now you have.”

I was confused and looked down like a puppy who doesn’t understand the command.

“You are telling me they’re real?”

He smiled wider.

“I’ll allow you to find out for yourself.”

I frowned.

“If you think I’m wearing contacts, take them out.”

My face fell into a panic.

“Have you gone crazy!? I have no idea how to take them out, and if you’re not wearing them, I don’t want to gouge your eye out.”

He started laughing and I tried to shut him up. My father might still be at home.

“Touch the iris slowly with your fingertip and pull it down.”

I shook my head.

“I just want to know if you’re wearing them, you don’t have to take them off.”

“I’m not telling you that, find out for yourself,” he grinned and opened his eyes wide without blinking.

“Maybe you don’t have any, or you would have taken them off before bed,” I backed away.

Harris shrugged and I sighed with stress.

“You won’t hurt me, don’t worry.”

I bit my nail, curiosity gnawing at me.

“Don’t blink,” I warned as I straightened up.

He smiled and shook his head. He wouldn’t allow me to poke him in the eye if he wasn’t wearing contacts, would he?

I bit my lip and focused on his right eye, rubbing it with the tip of my index finger before pulling at the skin under his eyes to open it wider. I probably should have washed my hands first. I was sweating because I was afraid of hurting him somehow. At least I didn’t have long nails, I’d broken them all on the platform. Harris was calm and even amused, his hands on my waist were helpful, but not really. Curiosity would really kill the cat.

I took a deep breath and touched his iris as gently as I could, pulling it down as something immediately moved under my finger and I saw a hint of color. As curious as I could be, I kept pulling until something stuck to my finger and an emerald looked back at me.

Surprise overcame me and left me speechless as Harris smiled and bent down to remove the other one. A completely different look lifted to me.

“Oh, my God,” I exhaled in amazement.

They were green.

Green like emeralds, and somewhere in my lungs my breath caught. I stared at him, unable to take my eyes off him, but now it was as if I was seeing him for the first time. The real him.

Harris smiled and winked at me, and it gave my heart a jolt.

“They’re so beautiful. Why the hell do you wear contacts?” I criticized.

“I don’t like them.”

I looked at him, perplexed. They were so beautiful that I wanted to kiss them. Beautiful and real. The tar was gone, the emeralds remained. He looked much more human this way, and although he was stunningly beautiful with black contact lenses, I liked him better this way.

“You really are obsessed with black, aren’t you?”

He grinned mischievously.

“Is that why you dyed your hair? Don’t tell me you’re actually blonde.”

He burst out laughing and I quickly held my palm in front of his mouth.

“Shh, I think my dad’s still at home.”

He stopped, but the giggles were still there.

“Okay, Miss Detective, I’m not blonde, but you’re right about my obsession with black.”

I rolled my eyes.

“So, what’s your real hair color?” I asked.

He didn’t have any body hair, so I could not figure it out for myself. Shit, he was probably even more hairless than me, and that was probably because of the tattoos.

He raised his finger and pointed at his eyebrows. I frowned in confusion, and then I realized he was answering my question. It was black, not as black as the color on his head, but still black.

“I like the deeper shades of black. If possible, I would wear Vanta black.”

I smiled, shook my head, and turned my gaze back to him. I was going to have a hard time not staring at them all the time from now on.

“Don’t wear the contact lenses anymore,” I said before I could think; I had no right to ask him to do that. “I mean…”

“Is that what you want?” He interrupted me just as I was about to apologize.

I nodded.

“Your eyes are even more beautiful like this.”

He smiled and slowly kissed my lips.

“Not nearly as beautiful as yours. That cognac in them gets me drunk instantly, that’s what I thought when I first saw them: that in your eyes is the softest fucking cognac ever made.”

I giggled and melted under his words.

He held his hand out to me, and I noticed the other contact on his finger. I looked at him curiously as he indicated that I should take it. Now I was really red as a lobster, and I couldn’t believe he was doing this just because I had asked him to.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” I said, and he shook his head.

“If you want me like this, then I’ll stay like this. So far, no one has preferred my real eyes. No one of any significance, anyway.”

I swallowed, speechless.

Yes, Katherine, try to stay away from him after this.

We both moved at the same time, our lips attracted like two magnets, with ardent, slow passion. Harris touched my lips with a gentle eroticism that drove me completely crazy. He squeezed my thighs in his palms and laid me back, then climbed on top of me and my legs instinctively opened around him.

His member pressed against me, and I could not stifle my whimpers. His teeth dug so deeply into my lower lip that I thought he was going to split the skin. His whole being overwhelmed me. I wanted to lose myself in him and become intoxicated by his existence for the rest of my life.

Slowly, he brushed his lips over mine, tempting me, then I felt him ready to attack.

His kiss lasted no longer than a few seconds, then we both jerked back.

Our baby began to cry.

We both turned to the doll, then looked at each other and finally started laughing.

I quickly pushed Harris away from me and stood up to secure our inheritance.

“I don’t think I’ll ever have kids,” he complained as he stretched his limbs out on my bed.

I giggled and fed the doll, then changed its diaper. Surprisingly, it immediately shut up.

A loud bang sounded from downstairs, and I panicked.

I stuck my head out of the door, listened, kept my ears open and closed my eyes when I heard movement from the kitchen. My father was still at home. Thank God he didn’t hear Harris or the doll crying.

“Now you really have to go,” I turned to Harris, who was still lying on my bed, completely exposed, with his wonderment rising like a monster awakened from hibernation.

I turned around, embarrassed, and closed my mouth. He laughed and got up from the bed, and I didn’t dare look at him until I heard him getting dressed. Even the jeans couldn’t hide the problem.

He couldn’t even zip them up. Fuck.

He came at me, bare-chested, barefoot, hair disheveled, and all those overwhelming tattoos. All he needed was a pair of black wings and he’d be the deadliest fantasy figure ever created.

Those green eyes marked the end of me when he looked at me.

“I can’t leave like this, and I’m sure it won’t go down as long as you’re here wearing those fucking shorts.”

I swallowed.

“So, what’s the plan?”

He sighed, and I could feel how hard it was for him to keep his perverted thoughts under control. It didn’t take a PhD to figure out what was going through his mind as he looked down at my body.

“You go downstairs and distract your father while I go into the bathroom and dunk my head in ice cold water, then I’ll leave.”

That seemed like a good plan, and I nodded, then looked up at the balcony. The blinds were drawn a little.

“Okay,” I exhaled and turned toward the door, but he grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me back.

“Don’t leave with anyone else.”

I understood. He would come back. I realized that I could no longer concentrate on anything when he looked at me with this new gaze. Fantastic.

I licked my lips and nodded.

He leaned down to kiss me and then paused, an agonizing inch away. He looked at my lips and let out a low growl, harsh, like an angry demon.

“Patience…” he whispered barely audibly, then let go of me and turned to pick up the rest of his clothes.

I stayed in place for a few seconds, stunned, my hormones in thumbtacks. Since last night he had resolved to be patient, but if that meant he wouldn’t kiss me again, well, then we had a problem.

I watched him get dressed and rubbed my thighs together, not really wanting to explain why.

I wondered what my hair looked like; how disheveled? I hadn’t even brushed my teeth, for fuck’s sake. I didn’t have much time to think about it though, because Harris was standing in front of me again, reaching for the door handle.

I turned around like a robot as he opened the door and whispered in my ear:

“I have told you time and time again how sexy you are, but I don’t think I have mentioned how beautiful you are too.”

My insides liquefied and I was close to fainting on the doorstep.

“See you soon, beautiful.”

He slowly kissed my neck. I had no idea how I got my feet to move, how I convinced myself to leave the room and not jump his bones.

I had no recollection of when I had reached the kitchen and saw my father. Could he read what I was feeling? How terribly aroused I was by a few simple words and a kiss on the neck. I immediately went to the fridge to drink some cold water.

My father was busy, I didn’t need to deal with him. He was talking on the phone with one hand while tending to the omelet with the other. He barely answered my ‘hello’.

I kept looking out the window because I was afraid that I’d see Harris walking across the yard, but I didn’t see him or his car.

I already knew he hadn’t parked it in front of my house, but it wasn’t nearby either.

After about ten minutes, I heard a powerful engine start up. He drove past in a flash, a split second, but it wasn’t his car. He had come in a car that my neighbors didn’t know.

I smiled in amusement and went back to my room to get ready for school. It was really quiet now, but not as uncomfortable as last night. What had happened had changed a lot, it had changed everything.

There was a sheet of paper on my bed, and I walked towards it, the air caught in my lungs again, my knees went weak, and my heart fluttered in my chest like a bitch in love.

His contact lenses were on the paper, and underneath were two words:

I promise.