“What is it?” he says instantly, reaching for me. “Sweetheart, what’s the matter?”
“Sweetheart,” I breathe. That fucking book should be given a Booker Prize and Jared and Fiona should be knighted. “You called me sweetheart.”
He ignores me and, taking my weight, he helps me to the side of the path. “What happened?”
“What?”
“You seemed to hurt yourself.”
“Did I? Oh yes. I caught my ankle.”
He looks behind me. “On what?”
“Erm.” I think hard. Fiona’s accident in the book was completely real.
His eyebrow slowly rises.
I say quickly, “Erm a raccoon.”
“InNorfolk?”
“Maybe it’s escaped from a zoo,” I say crossly, feeling defensive of the imaginary animal.
“I thought you’d seen a fox.”
“Yes, that would have made much more sense,” I say grimly. I try a groan. “Ooh it’s a bit painful.”
I think I now have the answer to why I never got any major roles in the school plays. It’s because I suck at acting. It’s alright my mum bigging me up and saying I reminded her of a young Jamie Bell, but even he would struggle in this situation.
To my amazement, Harry lifts me up. I flail and let out an inarticulate grunt until I realise he’s positioned me on top of a waist-high stone wall.
“Stay there,” he instructs, his voice rich with that air of quiet command that will never be unattractive. My cock stirs hopefully. “Let me have a look at your ankle.”
“It’s fine,” I say, tugging at him. “There’s really no need.” I tug harder and he falls against me, landing between my parted legs. We look into each other’s eyes. It’s very quiet now. I hear the grass rustling in the nearby field, his hurried breaths, and blood pounding in my ears.
I trace my hands up his chest, still holding his gaze. His eyes grow heavy-lidded as I reach his face and cup that strong chin. “Can I?” I whisper.
He swallows hard before nodding, and I don’t give him time to rethink that statement. I kiss him. Our lips rest against eachother for a long beat, as though neither of us can believe we’re finally doing this. Then I lick over his lower lip, feeling the slight indention of his teeth where he’s bitten it. It’s his nervous tell and never fails to make me warm with affection.
“Clem,” he breathes, and finally takes my mouth in a kiss that’s a world away from the one I gave him. His lips are soft against mine, and the whole world trails away in a mix of stars and a pink moon, as his tongue twines with mine, and his hands rise to cup my face. He tilts my head at a better angle, so the kiss goes deep, and he eats at my mouth with a growl in the back of his throat that echoes the moan in mine.
He pulls away, and I grumble.
He has that wild look in his eyes again as he says, “God, Iknewit would be like this.”
I start to question this astonishing statement, but then he kisses me again and the thought slips away. His shoulders are wide and strong under my hands, and I twine my legs around him, relishing how the low wall puts me at the right angle for my cock to rub against his. We’re both hard, and I stop to hiss with pleasure.
Then confusion reigns. Something blows in my ear—something that’s much, much bigger than Harry. Then it emits a low groan so eerie that if Harry weren’t holding me, I’d be levitating from the wall.
My scream chokes off as I promptly fall off the wall, pulling Harry with me. My ankle turns when I land awkwardly, but I ignore the pain.
“What the fuck isthat?” My voice sounds a bit too much like my Auntie Tamsin’s parrot—the one that’s inclined to make farting noises if you don’t feed him quickly enough. “It’s amonster. Fucking hell.”
“Clem, it’s okay,” Harry says loudly, grabbing my shoulders. “Look. It’s acow.”
I pause. “It’s a what?” I say faintly.
“A cow.”
