Right Down The Line

7

Bee's POV:

My thighs trembled on either side of Harry's while I continued to run my hands through his hair, still in a daze coming down from my orgasm. He stayed clung to me, his erratic breaths slowly leveling out, hot against my neck.

Suddenly feeling every bit of my cotton dress sticking to my sweaty skin, I shifted slightly, grimacing at the discomfort.

"No," Harry's muffled voice spoke as he tightened his grip on my hair and hooked his arm tighter around my waist.

I let out a soft grunt, shifting only my shoulders since they were the only part of my body that wasn't within Harry's grasp. "I'm sweating through my dress."

"So take it off," the muffled voice spoke again.

I puffed out a laugh, releasing his hair and placing my hands on his shoulders over his white t-shirt. "Harry."

"Bee."

I rolled my eyes then spoke to the wall, "The added body heat is not helping the situation. Please, detach." I pushed his shoulders lightly and, with a whine, Harry released me. His head fell back against the top of the couch and his hands dropped to the outsides of my thighs. 

My hands slid down naturally as he moved, grazing over his t-shirt until my fingertips rested on his lower belly over his t-shirt. I could see the outlines of his tattoos beneath the thin fabric, and I lifted one hand to touch the butterfly outline, pressing down lightly until I felt his heartbeat.

"You've already used this move on me."

I looked up at the sound of Harry's voice, finding his tired eyes. "Huh?" I asked absentmindedly, focusing more on how dehydrated his skin looked.

He raised his thick brows at me, blinking. "Our first kiss... the butterfly..." His expression hardened. "Unless you've managed to block out the memory, of course."

I rolled my eyes, taking my hand off the tattoo. "Why would I block out that memory?"

He just shrugged. "Wouldn't be surprised."

I sat up straighter. "Are we about to get in a fight while you are literally inside me?"

He raised his hands up in a lazy surrender on either side of his head. "I let go of you, just like you asked. You can get up whenever you want."

I took a deep breath and glanced down, placing my hands on his shoulders to help push me up and off of him. But before I made any progress, I stopped and brought my fingers to either side of my forehead, shaking my head. "So awkward," I mumbled with my eyes shut.

"What's awkward?" Harry asked, a confused but annoyed tone, which just added to my discomfort in this situation.

I looked down at him, seeing a confused expression. "The after-sex thing shouldn't be weird with you, and right now it just... is. I feel awkward."

Harry paused, placing his hands gently on the outsides of my thighs again. His expression was serious now. "You feel unsafe," he said, that single vertical line forming in his brow line.

I looked between his eyes, shaking my head at his assumption. "No. I never feel unsafe with you."

"I don't mean physically."

I scoffed. "To be fair, I don't think either of us feel very emotionally safe at the moment. Sorta comes with the whole 'irresponsible sex' thing."

Harry remained serious. "Tell me what you need."

I frowned at him, confused by his intensity. "I just, uh-" I stuttered, "Just... maybe don't be mad at me, for like thirty seconds?"