Heat - Harry Styles

twenty

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* *

"You love me?" I asked, blinking slowly. I didn't believe my ears. This had come totally out of the blue.

"With all my heart," he confirmed, still not breaking eye contact.

How could someone be so self assured? It's one of the things I admired most about Harry. He was never one to doubt himself. He did and said what he wanted. He wasn't afraid of reactions or consequences. He wasn't afraid to let his walls down. He just said what he was thinking. I wanted to be like that. One of the things I loved about Harry was his ability to push me out of my comfort zone, to get me to trust my gut implicitly. I wasn't quite there yet, but I liked to think I was getting closer every day.

"I love you too," I said. And I meant it.

Harry leaned in and connected our lips. Even through the kiss I could feel his love for me. My heart was so full. Harry and I had been intimate, but we hadn't slept together yet. Sure, we had an incredible physical connection but our relationship was so much more than that. Besides, I took sex pretty seriously. I knew myself well enough to know that being that intimate with someone was like giving them a piece of myself. It made me feel vulnerable for another person to hold a part of me. The only person I had ever slept with was this guy I'd seen on and off during my four years at Yale – his name was Griffin Peck. We never officially dated, but we might as well have. I was always dragging my feet when it came to commitment.

"I think I'm ready," I said as I pulled away from our kiss.

"Are you sure?" Harry asked before swiping his tongue across his bottom lip. Harry had never made me feel the least bit pressured to sleep with him, a simple fact that made me want him all the more.

I nodded enthusiastically before snaking my hand around the back of his neck and pulling him back in for a kiss. He lifted me gently until my butt met with the cold surface of the granite countertops that adorned his kitchen. He moved his focus to my neck, kissing feverishly as I knotted my hands in his hair. Still damp from the pool, his hair smelled deliciously of chlorine and coconut sunscreen.

"No hickeys," I scolded flirtatiously as he nipped at the sensitive skin. "I don't think that would make for the best first impression with my parents."

"Sloane," he said sternly before kissing me. "I'm about to make you forget your own name. Let's not talk about your parents."

His gruff voice sent a spark flying through my spine as our lips met once again. My mind was reeling and nothing had even happened yet. I already knew what Harry was capable of with his hands and mouth – I had a hard time imagining that it could get any better. My fervor for him was almost paralyzing.

I let out a shaky sigh as his hand worked its way up my dress and to my center. He rubbed me gently, achingly slow. I wrapped my arms around his neck and rested them there heavily, silently begging him for more. He slowly sank one large finger into me, causing a telling moan to escape my parted lips as he moved in and out.

"Funny," he let out a raspy chuckle, "I'm the one who just got out of the pool, but you're the one who's absolutely dripping wet."

Lost for words, I just looked at him silently, chest heaving from both the aftermath and anticipation of having him inside me. My eyes pleaded with him to take me to the bedroom. I couldn't handle waiting much longer and as hot as sex on the kitchen counter would be, I wanted our first time together to be a bit more... comfortable.

He picked me up hurriedly and I wrapped my legs around his waist and his hands grasped my butt. He walked me to his bedroom and laid me down softly on top of his plush duvet. He slipped the strap of my dress off, gently caressing the skin there. "You look so fucking beautiful in these little sundresses you like to wear," he mumbled.

He slid the other strap off, this time more hurriedly. As he slid my dress off my body, he kissed every inch of newly revealed skin, whispering hushed 'I love yous' until the dress was on the floor. He hastily pulled his swimsuit off before fishing a condom out of his nightstand drawer. The foil fell to the floor as he slid the latex on. He positioned himself over me before asking permission one last time – he received confirmation in the form of a wild, impatient nod.

He filled me slowly at first but as he pushed himself all the way in, I instinctively dug my fingers into the skin on his back. The sensation was familiar and foreign all at once. Harry was – for lack of a better word – big. It took a few pumps for my body to relax into him. Breathless curses fell from my lips as I could already feel myself beginning to come undone. Never had someone caused me to fall apart so quickly.

"Harry," I let out a gasp as I struggled to get the words out. "I'm so close."

"Come for me, baby," he growled as he moved faster and faster.

It wasn't long after when my toes began to tingle with a euphoric sensation that crept up my back and into my center, causing my back to arch. I moaned with pleasure and looked up at Harry. Jaw slack and eyes squeezed shut, I could tell that he was coming undone too.

Soon, the two of us lay in a breathy, heaving mess, unable to string together a recognizable sentence. We didn't need to say anything with our words. Everything that needed to be said had already been said with our bodies – with kisses, goosebumps, and tender touches.

* *

"I can't believe you're actually going to subject Harry to dinner with Mom and Dad," Louisa said as she chopped up tomatoes. I had enlisted her help to prepare this dinner. To say that she was surprised to hear that I'd told our parents about Harry would be an understatement. Her wide eyes had been enough to tell me that she thought it was the dumbest decision in the world. She was probably right. As I peeked inside the pot on the stove, I could practically envision the whole night – and relationship – going up in flames. Oh well, can't go back now.

I needed to be more optimistic. Besides, the lunch with my parents had gone astonishingly well. I was relieved to have such a huge weight off my chest, but I knew the true test was still to come. I had faith in Harry's ability to charm my family, but I was eager to get this whole thing over with. I took a big gulp of wine as I began to set the table.

As I turned back around and caught a glimpse of the kitchen counter, my mind filled with naughty thoughts about what Harry and I had gotten up to just a few hours before. Now that we'd finally slept together, I couldn't remember any of my reasons for being so hesitant. Sex with Harry was gentle but rough, comfortable but thrilling. The man was a living, breathing contradiction. And his touch made me go weak in the knees.

I was pulled out of my dirty thoughts by the clicking of my mother's heels on the staircase. I took another sip of wine before she entered the room. I felt like I might need it.

"Well my goodness, Sloane. It smells delicious in here," she complimented as she walked into the kitchen. She was wearing a beautiful white linen dress that fell just above her ankles, a dangerous choice for dinner considering I'd made – the notoriously gooey – shrimp and grits. The lowcountry staple was Charleston's calling card, and it also happened to be a Rutledge family favorite. No one else could make the beloved dish as well as I could... except for maybe Mims. It was her recipe, afterall.

"Thanks, Mom," I responded sincerely. It put me at ease to see that she was in a good mood. It really seemed like she wanted tonight to go well, and that meant a lot to me.

Shortly after my mother entered the kitchen, we heard the heavy footsteps of my father coming down the staircase. He helped me put the finishing touches on the table setting and chose a couple bottles of wine for the night. My father was mild mannered, but he had a real thing for alcohol. He loved learning about wines and scotch, having little tasting parties with his friends, and sharing his knowledge with anyone he could get to listen to him. Earlier today I'd joked with Harry that if my dad brought out a nice bottle of scotch, it was safe to assume the night was going well. He only shared that stuff with dear friends.

Just as I was putting the main dish on the table, I heard a knock on the door. My stomach dropped and I could feel my heart beating in my chest as I scurried over to let him in.

Calm down, Sloane. It's just one dinner.