A/N: SURPRISE!! Because of the great response to this story, we decided to give you a special treat and post this next chapter a day early. However, to get back on schedule, Chapter 4 will not be posted until Wednesday.
And PLEASE review!! It only takes a second, and we really appreciate your feedback!!
Happy reading!!
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Chapter 3
Harry took two tentative steps into the bar and spotted his target immediately. Hermione was sitting at the bar with nearly all of her back to him. Her ankles were crossed and her long, slender calves swung languorously back and forth between the legs of the barstool. Her shirt was snug in all the right places, accentuating her body in a way Harry had never thought possible and the slight flair of her hips was likely to be the most sensuous thing he'd ever seen.
Watching her from where he stood was like seeing the possibility of one of his greatest fantasies coming to light; him…a beautiful, sexy little vixen…champagne…rose petals…moonlight…satin sheets…
But this is Hermione, his conscious mind interrupted.
Harry shook his head and the vision of him and his little vixen was gone in an instant. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to steady himself before making his move on her.
This is so not smart, he thought even as he took the first step toward her. Something in his mind was screaming at him to stop but for the moment Harry was lost to the fantasy world of movie making. He was back in the other hotel and the cameras were rolling and he had to get his lines right the first time.
He stopped on what should have been his mark and he noticed the wedding ring on her finger. He smiled his cockiest smile yet then continued his approach.
Hermione had intentionally kept from turning her back completely to the door so she could watch him from the corner of her eye. She needed to know when to pick up the shot glass to feed her courage. She'd asked the bartender for a triple-shot. This could be her only chance with Harry and she was hoping to make the most of it…she just needed a little something to build up her nerve. She knew that no amount of alcohol could make her feel more drunk than the amount of desire she'd felt for him had when they were filming. Why'd that bastard have to be jacking off before we got to kiss? She thought bitterly. Second chances… she thought when she saw Harry walk through the door. This time she intended to make the most of it.
She began to make circles on the bar with her shot glass but decided that it was more important to move the scene forward so she stopped abruptly and waited for the inevitable chair spin that would bring her face to face with Harry.
She felt it the moment he laid his hand on the chair and her heart leapt at the thought of what was to come. Harry spun her around and placed his foot on the footrest and his knee between her thighs. She could already see the nervous anticipation and longing in his eyes and her cry of "Oh!" was more real than it'd ever been. Her heart was beating rapidly and she could feel her palms beginning to sweat as she eagerly awaited what was to come.
"So, baby. What brings you here?" Harry said rapidly. All thoughts of being smooth evaded him when he turned her around and the sudden sight of her combined together lethally with his nervous anticipation of what was to come.
She licked her lips then swallowed hard. The rapid rise and fall of her chest seemed to make it difficult for her to breathe as she tried to lower her head to take in the entirety of him. Instead, she placed her hand on his knee and watched her own progress as she slid it excruciatingly slow up his thigh. The muscles in his leg quivered at her touch. Her hand was a little more than halfway up his thigh when she stopped. She stared briefly at the bulge in his pants and licked her lips again before sliding her hand back down his thigh to rest once again on his knee. Her eyes raked slowly up his body…
His hard, firm torso…
His broad chest and wide shoulders…
The strong, masculine set of his jaw combined with the rough 5 o'clock shadow made her shudder as she thought of how good it would feel if he were to rub that anywhere on her body…
His lips were so red and full and so utterly kissable that she bit her lower lip as she stared longingly at them…
His eyes were brilliant green and full of never-before-seen desire as they stared longingly into hers…
His hair, in its usual unruly state topped off the picture of what could quite possibly be the sexiest man she'd ever seen…
"Do I know you?" she asked headily when she remembered why they were there.
"I'm the guy you dream about every night," he replied heavily.
"You know, I think you are," she replied softly forgetting all about being in character.
Harry smiled and leaned forward to whisper, "I don't think that's what you're supposed to say."
Hermione grabbed both sides of his jacket and pulled him down to within an inch of her. "I don't think I care," she whispered back.
Harry grabbed hold of her hands and pulled them off his jacket so he could straighten himself. "Say the line," he mouthed to her.
"What do you know about my dreams?" she said in a petulant voice that sounded as though she was demanding an answer from him rather than reading from the script. There was nothing sexy or sensuous in her tone and Harry stared at her questioningly.
"What difference does it make when I can see that you want me now?" he said quickly his eyes never leaving hers as he gauged her reaction and waited for her response.
Hermione took a deep breath and forced herself back into character. She'd damn near exposed her heart to him and that was the last thing she'd intended to do. He needed to fall for her on his own and not out of some inane sense of guilt because she loved him.
"What's your name stranger?" she asked breathlessly; just as she was supposed to do. She began to gently caress his calf with her foot just as was scripted.
He closed his eyes, all of his senses were reeling and the feel of her foot on his leg was almost more than he could stand. "What do you want it to be?" he somehow managed to reply.
"Only what it is," she said softly.
Neither of them had realized that they'd come once again to within an inch of each other. Their eyes were open and each beseeched the other as they drew ever nearer. Harry tilted his head and moved slowly forward. Their lips barely brushed against each other when they both jumped back slightly as their hearts gave a quick jolt. They smiled at each other and watched as each moistened their lips with their tongue. Hermione bit her lower lip as she watched him.
Harry smiled at her. "Try that again?" he asked softly as he stared into her eyes.
Unable to speak Hermione smiled faintly and nodded.
Harry's smile faded as he closed the short distance between them and claimed her lips. This time neither jumped when they felt the jolt. The kiss deepened as they tilted their heads from one side to the other and passionately, hungrily kissed each other from different angles. After a few moments Hermione's tongue begged entry into his mouth and they both moaned the moment he opened up to her and their tongues clashed for the first time.
The patrons in the bar had been watching the scene from nearly the beginning and by now many were shifting uncomfortably in their seats as they continued to watch…unable to turn away even for a second from the scene that was playing out before them. Their lips would separate briefly when they tilted their heads and everyone in the bar watched as their tongues darted in and out of each other's mouths with reckless abandon.
Hermione's hand was on his thigh and her fingers had turned white from the amount of pressure with which she was kneading him. His hands were on her waist and he pulled her roughly forward onto the edge of the stool until she was almost sitting on his knee. Her tiny skirt was bunched up beneath her and what covered her now barely concealed what lie hidden beneath it. His knee was still between her legs and the moment her hand hit a particularly sensitive spot near his groin, his leg jerked upward and his knee rubbed against her already wet, overly-sensitized soft spot. Her loud, uncontrollable moan brought reality crashing back down on Harry and he reluctantly pulled his lips from hers. "Dear Merlin," he said breathlessly, his chest heaving. His eyes bored into hers. "That wasn't supposed to happen."
Hermione was having difficulty catching her breath with all the different sensations coursing through her at once. She'd felt the love already-that had been there for a long time…what she'd never felt was the desire, want, and need she felt now. She knew she had to have more…but first….
"Is that all you have to say?" she said suddenly sounding both breathless and angry. "This `wasn't supposed to happen'?"
Harry looked at her in astonishment. "Wow!" he said questioningly, his mind still reeling from the multitude of sensations that seemed to be chasing each other around throughout every part of him.
"Yeah, that's it, wow," she said sarcastically.
"What do you want me to say, Hermione?" he said sounding frustrated. "Tell me what you want me to say and I'll say it!"
"I don't want to have to tell you what to say Harry," she said sounding equally as frustrated, "just forget it."
"I'm s…"
"DON'T!" she interrupted loudly. He stopped and looked at her wide-eyed. "Don't you dare say you're sorry unless you're planning to apologize for being so daft."
"Daft? Bloody hell, Hermione," he said wearily. "What do you want from me?"
"Nothing Harry," she said softly. "You'd better go." She slid the rest of the way off the barstool and looked accusatorily at her mini skirt as she attempted to adjust it. "Damn this stupid thing," she muttered.
Everything around them, from the moment Harry walked into the bar, had disappeared. The world was theirs; no one else mattered until…
"So, you two do know each other?" Harry and Hermione both jumped at the sight and sound of the man standing within a couple feet of them. Neither had noticed him or anyone else in the bar up to that point. They looked at him curiously then together they looked around the bar and saw that all of the other patrons were staring wide-eyed at them. Both their faces turned a deep, dark red and they looked at each other in utter shock. "That was pretty intense," the man said, "we all thought you was strangers, but you actually know each other?"
Hermione was the first to recover her senses. Staring at Harry with a look of disdain she answered the man, "We used to." She glanced briefly at the man then turned to the bartender. "Hermione Granger. Put that on my room bill," she said pointing to the shot glass. The bartender nodded and she turned and walked toward the exit without a backward glance.
It took Harry a moment to realize she'd just walked out on him and he went running after her. "Hermione wait!" he called when he finally got near enough to her.
She stopped walking but refused to turn around. Her head dropped and she waited for whatever was to come next. "What?" she said sounding defeated. "Harry, I'm tired. I just want to go to bed."
"I am sorry for being so daft," he said quickly. "But Hermione, you have to listen to me…just give me a minute, please."
"One minute," she said, glaring at him with hurt in her eyes.
"Hermione, you're my best friend," he said as he walked forward to stand next to her. "When we signed on to do that stupid movie I," he paused, unsure of whether or not to voice his thoughts, "I didn't think kissing you would make me feel like this." He moved around to stand in front of her and lifted her chin so he could look into her eyes. "Do you realize that until tonight I hadn't even noticed you were a woman?"
"Yeah, great Harry. Thanks for that," she said irritably, "I feel so much better now."
"No, Hermione, I didn't mean it like that," he paused to look at her, his eyes traveling the length of her body; down and back up until his eyes met hers. "You are very much a woman Hermione, anyone could see that. What I mean is I've always thought of you as my best friend, you know? The one I could always count on to keep me straight, keep me alive, to keep me from losing myself in the insanity that was my life. You've always been like that beautiful little 11-year-old girl I met ten years ago. Tonight, after what happened during filming, I was aware for the first time that you were not only my best friend and so much of that 11-year-old girl I've known for ten years, but that you're a woman, too. It just makes you all that much more wonderful, Hermione. So again, I am sorry for being daft." He reached up to touch her hair and a faint trace of longing reflected briefly in his eyes. "I don't know if I'm apologizing for being daft in the way you want me to, but right now it's the only way I know how."
Hermione closed her eyes and sighed heavily. She wanted to rest her cheek against his palm and whisper the words she'd been longing to tell him for years. Instead, she reached for his hand and pulled it down with hers. "What are you saying, Harry?"
He squeezed her hand as he shook his head. "I don't know Hermione," he answered softly, "I really don't. I still have to think about Sandra."
"Harry, you've been with her for, what? A few weeks? What's there to think about?" she asked wearily. "Is it that serious already?"
Harry looked at her curiously. "Hermione are you…"
She put her hand up to stop him once again. "Forget it, Harry. There's nothing I need, nothing I expect, and nothing that I…nothing that I want." She took a step toward the elevator. If he follows me I'm not going to let him go…if he follows me I'm going to show him just exactly what kind of stuff Hermione Granger is made of!
"I have to go," she said with finality. "Will I see you tomorrow at the shoot? Are we still going through with this?"
Harry nodded slightly. "Yeah," he said reluctantly. "I don't think we have a choice."
"Great," she said bitterly, "see you then."
She strode purposefully toward the elevator and refused to look back at him until she pushed the button to go up. He was walking slowly in the opposite direction. She turned her attention back to the elevator and as soon as the doors opened she stepped in and pressed the button for the 8th floor. "Thank Merlin no one's here," she said quietly.
She leaned back against the far wall and intentionally let the back of her head bang against it before she lifted her leg and placed her foot on the wall next to her knee. She nearly fell over with fright when a hand reached through the closing doors and forced them to open. "Hermione, we can't walk away like this. You have to talk to me," Harry pleaded. "I've never left you like this before and I can't leave you like this now."
"Are you sure you want to close that door Harry?" she asked as he released the elevator door and they began to close again.
He looked at her curiously, unable to recognize the tone in her voice. "Why?" he asked cautiously.
"I'll give you one more chance Harry," she said in the same tone as she pressed the button for the 1st floor.
"Hermione, what…"
She put a finger to his lips. "One more chance, Harry," she warned. "When the doors open you either get off or you stay on. The decision is yours. Either way you accept the consequences." She leaned back against the wall once more and crossed her arms over her stomach and waited.
Harry watched her in silence as she stood staring at him, waiting for him to decide. Decide what? He wondered. He jumped when the elevator stopped and the doors slid open. He looked from the door to Hermione…she hadn't moved or changed expressions. She simply watched him.
The door began to close and he pressed the button to open them again to buy himself more time…this is Hermione, he thought, what do I have to worry about? Something in her expression, something in her stance told him that this was a big moment for the two of them.
He slowly reached out his hand and pressed the close door button…
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