Heat - Harry Styles

fourteen

The summer breeze kept us company as we sat in Charlotte's backyard. Only feet away, the party was still in full swing, but Harry and I had managed to slip into our own private oasis. It felt as if it was just the two of us among the lightning bugs and the stars.

My stomach didn't feel nearly as peaceful as the scenery. Even in my drunken state, I could feel all of the liquor churning inside of me. I closed my eyes in an attempt to forget about the uneasy feeling in my gut. Leave it to me and my tequila to ruin a perfect moment.

When I finally couldn't hold it in anymore I jumped off the couch, frantically scurrying to the closest bush. I felt Harry follow quickly behind me, taking my hair into his hand and rubbing my back gently as I doubled over. I heaved my guts out, expelling all of the toxic liquid from my body.

"You're okay," I heard Harry softly reassure me. "I've got you".

"Shit," I muttered as I finally stood back up, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. "I'm sorry. That was disgusting," I apologized. I could feel my cheeks turning pink from embarrassment. I wouldn't be surprised if Harry changed his mind about wanting to be with me right then and there.

"Don't worry about it," he said sincerely. "I kind of figured that might happen after you took those last two shots."

"Not my best move," I admitted weakly before throwing up again. "I need to go home."

"Stay with me tonight," he offered. "You can't go home like this anyway."

"Harry," I began to argue.

"You shouldn't be alone when you're this drunk. I just want to make sure you're okay," he reasoned.

I thought about it for a moment and he was right. Just the thought of waking up hungover and having to talk to my mother first thing in the morning was enough to convince me. "Okay."

"I'll text my driver," he said casually, pulling his phone out of his back pocket.

I rolled my eyes, "Just call an Uber, Harry. It'll be like four dollars to get back to your house."

He shrugged and put his phone back into his pocket, "An Uber driver might take pictures. You

never know who you can trust."

And there it was, another reminder that Harry wasn't just a normal guy and no matter what we tried we could never be just a normal couple. But tonight was going well and there was no need to start a conversation over something that he and I both knew could not be changed. It was just an unfortunate truth-a consequence of his career. One that we both hated.

"Ready?" He asked, extending his hand to me.

"Ready," I confirmed as I interlocked our fingers.

_

_

As soon as we entered Harry's house I made my way directly to his bedroom. The old Charleston hardwoods creaked beneath me as I scurried to the back of the home, stopping only to take off my shoes.

There was something about this house that made me feel so comfortable. I'm not sure if it was all the time I'd spent there or just the fact that everything smelled like Harry. Whatever it was, I wasn't complaining.

After I brushed my teeth, I collapsed onto Harry's bed and instantly felt the white duvet mold to fit the shape of my body. When I closed my eyes the room felt like it was spinning, but when I opened them I was met with the same still ceiling.

I had way too much to drink tonight.

I felt the bed dip below me and I turned my head to see a mess of brown hair laying beside me. "C'mere," he mumbled as he pulled my body close to his. I obliged with his command, snuggling up closely to his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath my cheek.

"How do you feel?"

"Drunk," I admitted.

"Why don't you go get changed for bed, yeah? You need some sleep," he mumbled, his own voice sounding tired.

"Can't you undress me?" I asked.

I felt him stiffen slightly beneath me before he responded. "Sloane," he began, "you've had too much to drink."

I sat up slowly, pulling his hands gently until he stood in front of me. "C'mon," I urged carefully.

His green eyes met mine for a moment before darting to the hem of my shirt. I raised my arms, silently giving him permission. His rough hands fiddled with the fabric of my shirt, rolling it between his fingers.

Torturously slow, he lifted the shirt over my head. He dropped the material and scanned my body as I sat in front of him in a black lace bra. "Fuck," he mumbled before his tongue swept over his bottom lip.

He leaned in and took my lips between his, trapping me in a lustful kiss. We moved together effortlessly and with fluidity, only breaking to take an occasional breath of air. Harry cautiously placed his hands in the dip of my waist, pushing me back gently as he crawled over top of me. Both on the bed now, he hovered over me as his hands explored my body. I wriggled beneath his touch, my back sinking even further into the cotton cloud that lay beneath me.

He connected our hips, his skinny-jean clad frame grinding into mine roughly and without warning. His hand slid down my side, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind it. His hand finally found its home at the edge of my shorts. It rests there momentarily before dexterously unbuttoning them and sliding them down until they lay at my ankles. His fingers skillfully found my center, rubbing it slightly over the fabric of my panties. My hips involuntarily bucked up, and Harry took it as encouragement to rub faster.

"Harry," I mumbled, his name falling from my lips before I could stop myself. With this, he slipped his fingers beneath my underwear, finally coming in contact with my yearning skin. I lifted my hips once again as I ground myself harder against his fingers. His fingers finally moved further down, finding my slit. He ran the tips of his fingers around the edges, his rough skin in contrast with the delicate skin he found there.

"Fuck," he groaned, "you're already so wet."

Without any more delay, he quickly inserted one finger. I found myself letting out a groan before biting my lip. He pumped in and out of me at a slow pace before slipping in another finger.

"Fuck," I moaned as I tangled my hands in his hair, slightly scraping at the skin of his scalp.

He sped up his pace and with each and every one of his motions I could fill myself inching closer and closer to the edge.

"Is it good?" He asked, green eyes staring into mine.

I closed my eyes and nodded, not even able to find my voice. My hands drifted down to Harry's neck and found their home at the base of his hair.

"Let me hear that voice, pretty girl," he growled.

"It's good," I finally managed to get out, struggling for words. My stomach was tied in a knot that just kept getting tighter and tighter.

"I'm close," I gasped.

He brought his other hand up to join in on the action. While one hand pumped in and out of me, the other was rubbing deliciously against my center. I could feel myself coming undone. My toes began to curl up and my back was arching itself off the bed.

"That's it, babe," he said in a low voice.

"I'm coming," I moaned as I reached my high, wriggling beneath Harry's strong grasp. It felt like there was an electric current running through my body-like every single nerve in my system was screaming out Harry's name.

He continued to rub my center gently as I came down from my orgasm. He left soft kisses on my neck and shoulder as I lay there on his bed, gasping for air. He soon rolled off of me, coolly laying beside me as I struggled to catch my breath.

"Oh my God," I muttered when I finally felt like I could breathe again.

"Enjoy yourself?" he chuckled.

I didn't even need to see his face to know the annoying little smirk that would be plastered across it right now. I used to be no-nonsense, cold to a fault when it came to men. Then Harry comes along with his too tight skinny jeans and his hair that's always a little messed up. Despite all of the reasons that I shouldn't like him, I did. I was putty in his hands-and he knew it.