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By Bracken Author's Notes: This is the sequel to "The Playing Field" and you may not understand the circumstances in here until you read that. Thanks to all the wonderful people who reviewed and asked for a sequel. Here it is. Hope it's what you had in mind. Feedback: Oh, please? I'll love you forever Dedication: To The Childe, who wanted one and really deserves much more. Love you. Chapter Six: "Does He Even Know?" **Strange.** I thought, upon the arrival of the unusual dessert. **But then, not much is normal at this stage. It's not every day that you get The Boy Who…** as my thoughts turned to Harry, so did my gaze. I turned just in time to see his wanton lips around the reddest, largest, ripest strawberry that has ever been an accessory to seduction. I also got a perfect look at the tight clothes and the ruffled black hair so heavy with wet that it seemed to drip over his eyes. I saw the lids come down over burning green eyes and saw his tongue dart out to lick wayward cream off glistening lips. When did he change from The Boy Who Lived to The Boy Who Slept Around? I didn't think I could watch, but turning away was *not* an option. And when he slid his middle finger into his mouth I passed the point of no return. Hades, I nearly groaned out loud then and there. I watched rapt, seething when someone would dare lean into my view of him and obstruct the sight of each finger being sucked into the hot cavern of his mouth. Gods, every movement of his gave me something to think about. Each heated fantasy flickering vividly before my eyes, only to be eclipsed by the next one. Seeing him in the halls at school was painful, and potions today had been sheer torture, but when he thrust his tongue between his fingers I *knew* I was in Hell. It was worse than ever before, this unfulfilled need. Gods, does he even know what he's putting me through? And when he brazenly caught my gaze I knew for certain that he did. First thought: **I'm going to *kill* the bastard! Nobody makes a fool of ME and lives.** Which was followed closely by: **Or you could just teach him a lesson and fuck him senseless.** The mere thought incurred a bit lip, which had to be quickly replaced in order to quell the triumph so obvious in his eyes. And then the insolent boy had the nerve to wave a chocolate covered finger at me! Heavens, I mean, one sexual encounter and suddenly he's a slut? Some tormenting thought at the back of my mind echoed that perhaps there hadn't only been *one* sexual experience. After all, he'd had two weeks… I chose to ignore it, but still the jealousy gnawed at some fundamental part of me. When had I grown this possessive over anything? But then again, hadn't I always known this one was special, that's why I had to have him in the first place. My musings had given me enough distraction to just about rent my gaze from him when I saw that he was leaving the hall. I watched, intrigued, as he plucked a final berry off his dish and started to make his way out. **Finally,** I thought, **a temporary end to the torment.** But my hopes of recovering from his latest little seduction foray were dashed when he threw a challenging smirk my way. Oh, it was so obviously designed to lure me out after him that I almost didn't follow. Almost. My will power was no match for the memories of his body in the moonlight. I sighed doggedly and kicked my chair back in resignation. **Damn.** I thought, ** As I followed his footfalls out of the hall. **Looks like my nemesis has called a rematch and won.** |