Authors note:
It probably goes without saying that, if you haven't, I recommend reading part one first.
I struggle to believe it has been over a year since I posted part one of this story and I apologise for the delay! A new house and job hijacked the last 12 months. However, Jess and Harri have never been far from my mind and this part has been in a draft form for far too long. I have even started part 3 and have plans for many more parts beyond that which I hope to develop.
A special thanks to all the amazing authors who have helped with feedback and edits, I wouldn't have got there without you.
I hope you all enjoy Part 2 and, as always, your feedback and comments are greatly appreciated.
I promise the wait for part three won't be as long - it's not far off finished! Xx
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Harri
I wake feeling delightfully exhausted as the sun streams through the gaps in the shutters. My muscles feel heavy like they normally do following pre-season training. I stretch out till my hands touch the headboard. The sheets are so soft. The sheets are not mine.
Holy fuck, I am in Jess's bed.
The memory of last night hit me hard; a series of neck-kissing, sheet-gripping, orgasm-shattering images. My heart is races with anticipation and my face goes flush as I remember the way she touched me.
I look over at Jess as she sleeps. She is laying on her front, her muscular shoulders rising and falling ever so slightly as she breathes. She is facing away from me and the sun is casting little lines of light across her cheek. I want to wrap my arms around her. No, scratch that, I want her to wrap her arms around me.
I have never felt this unbelievably invested in anyone, let alone a girl.
Did all that really happen?
I am out of my depth, I don't sleep with women. I am not gay.
What the fuck came over me, I literally threw myself at her.
I feel myself getting hot and start to feel physically sick. I need to get out of this bed. I move carefully from under the sheets, spot my dress on the floor, and swipe it up along with my underwear as I tip-toe to the bathroom.
I push the door to a close behind me and turn to look at my reflection in the mirror. My face is flushed and my hair is a ruffled mess. My lower lip looks a little puffy and I remember Jess pulling on it with her teeth. The more I look at myself the more I blush; I have little red marks where she kissed my neck and the inside of my thigh. I get dressed quickly, feeling slightly more in control. I run some cold water and splash my face; the make-up from yesterday has faded but I take comfort in the fact that I have managed to avoid panda eyes from my mascara.
I sit on the edge of the bath and for a moment I calm down. I am distracted by how gorgeous the bathroom is. Every wall is covered with these beautiful marble-effect tiles, the stainless steel of the walk-in rain shower and the feet of the roll-top bath sparkle under the bathroom spotlights. I run my hand along the edge of the tub and imagine how great a bubble bath would be. I know, that while the bathroom is beautiful, it's the fact that it's Jess's bathroom that is creating the biggest pull.
I shake my head and close my eyes, pulling myself back to reality. The reality that is me sat in my sort-of-boss's bathroom the morning after the night before.
I need to leave. That is what you should do after hooking up with a work colleague;
it wasn't a date, it wasn't even a work night out, it was a bloody business trip.
I feel nauseous again, I need to get out of here.
Don't put Jess in an awkward position. Just because it was your first time with a girl doesn't make it special to her. Don't embarrass yourself any more, Harri.
With my mental pep talk complete I take a deep breath and slip back out of the bathroom. The white sheets are an inviting mess on the bed, loosely covering a half-naked Jess. It would be so easy to slip back between the sheets and, for a little while longer, pretend this wasn't a mistake. Would she wake with the same look in her eyes that made me weak at the knees?
Your delusional Harri, she probably looks at any girl who is so willing to sleep with her like that.
Swallowing hard and feeling almost tearful, I go back to Jess's living room. I spot my bag near the door,
of course, because you basically jumped on her straight away,
and I cringe as I remember uttering 'will you touch me already.'
I stuff my feet into my shoes, grab my bag and undo the latch on the front door. The door shuts with a clink and I let out a relieved sigh as I make my way down the hallway to the lift. The more distance I put between myself and the flat the more I am able to think straight. Yet somehow, the sadder I feel.
As I step outside, the cool Bristol air hits me and I shiver a little in my dress. I pull out my phone thinking I will get an Uber to the office where I can pick up my car, but it's 5 am.
Good-one Harri,
at least you will make netball training... in 3 hours' time.
Jess
I hear the latch go on the front door and it wakes me, realising what it means. I roll over and sure enough, Harri is not there. The little pang of sadness that hits me surprises me. I get up quickly, looking out of the window waiting to see her. She steps out and she shivers, I can't help but think how cute she is. The next moment she is gone, walking quickly around the corner and away from me. I watch the spot where she disappeared for a moment trying to work out what is bothering me.
She is so hard to read.
I go back to bed. I check the time; 5.12. She really didn't want to hang about. I want to text her, check she gets home safe, but I realise I don't even have her number. I did almost ask once but worried it looked like I was hitting on her and had decided I didn't need it, that it would bring with it too much temptation.
--
I wake again a few hours later, but I don't feel rested. I feel tormented. I am not sure why I am so annoyed at missing the awkward morning after;
she has done you a massive favour by avoiding it
. Why then, do I keep thinking about what might have happened if I had woken to her rather than to an empty bed? As I shower, I picture waking to her lying in my bed. I plant little kisses down her neck and over her breasts. Her skin is so soft in the morning light as I work my way further down her perfect figure, till I dip my tongue between her thighs and taste her again. My hand is between my own thighs now, feeling my pussy react to the thought of devouring Harri. It doesn't take long till my body tenses and an orgasm engulfs me. This distracts me for as long as it takes for my breathing to slow.
I get out of the shower and roughly dry my hair. I put on sweats and a faded t-shirt and I go to make myself a coffee. My mind drifts again to what it would be like to have her sat here, at my kitchen table. I know she is not a morning person, and I am definitely not, but something about the thought of breakfast with Harri was undeniably appealing. I would make us breakfast, stealing kisses regularly as the morning passed by. It's only when I open my fridge and see the almost empty shelves, except for a little milk and some chocolate, that I remember the arguments Natalie and I used to have.
She would complain about the lack of food and how thoughtless I was. She would ask why I would never make her breakfast and I would protest that it was my weekend too and we should just go out for breakfast, before wondering out loud why she had to make a drama out of every little thing.
Harri did the right thing in leaving; it would have been awkward and she would have thought you're a loser when all you could offer is super noodles and dairy milk.
I sit and drink my coffee slowly, my mind working overtime as the rain starts to lash it down outside. I look out the floor-length window that looks over Bristol, the view of the old cathedral still impressive even when backed by grey clouds. I catch my reflection in the tear strewn glass and don't recognise the confusion that stares back. Had I been stupid enough to think that after sleeping with her the fascination would fade?
I pour the dregs of my coffee down the sink and text Kate, 'Lunch?'