Harry Styles' P.A

I did not sign up for this

"Harry, you can't be serious. Must I remind you once again that I'm your p.a?" My voice is highpitched from utter shock. I can't believe him.
Harry just shrugs.
"No, I'm very aware of that. But that's one of the reasons you would be perfect for this."
Jeffrey scoffs and rolls his eyes.
"That doesn't make any sense Harry."
"Ofcourse it does!", Harry retorts. "We get along well, she doesn't judge, she knows the script, and she's right here. It would save a lot of time. And she looks about the same size as Jill. Wouldn't have to change the wardrobe much."
I sigh, nervously admitting he has a point, but he can't really expect me to do this.

"Yes, indeed. I know the script. Wich means I know how hot that scene gets, and you can't seriously be expecting me to do a scene like that with my boss. What would the press say of that?"
Jeffrey starts laughing cynically.
"See, at least Lilly has some common sense."
Harry frowns at him, shakes his head and takes a step towards me, putting his hands on my shoulders.
"It doesn't matter what the press says. The people that matter will see how talented you are. You nailed your shot in the 'Fruity' commercial in one take. That's a talent. Hardly anyone can."
I nervously lick my lips, avoiding his green puppy eyes staring into mine.
"I'm not an actress, Harry. That shot was five seconds. An entire commercial....that's closer to five minutes. The last time I acted was in an elementary school play."
Harry lightly shakes me by my shoulders.
"I have faith in you. And it would really help me out. I'd rather do this with you than someone I don't know. I'm nervous too."
Now I look at him. Harry? Nervous? No way. But he does look nervous. He's blushing, avoiding my gaze and biting his lower lip.
"Why? Why would you rather do this with me?"
"Because I know you. It might not look like it, but I'm actually pretty shy. Trying to connect with a new person is difficult. Plus, I don't want to repeat the scene we just had with Jill."

I hate that he makes so much sense. I'm very introverted and I hate having to interact with new people, so I get where he's coming from. I also understand that it would save us time if I agreed to do this. But bloody hell, it's really a steamy scene. I guess I just better be honest, even if it's a last resort.
"I don't know if I can handle shooting something like that with you Harry. I might not be able to seperate it from reality."
Harry frowns but I already see the corners of his mouth twitching.
"You think it would turn you on?"
I feel my face heat up, indicating I'm blushing and he chuckles at my flustered face.
"Well, it would honestly be strange if it didn't Lilly. But if it does, it will only look more real."
He really has an answer to everything doesn't he?
"Jeffrey will kill us", I whisper, so that Jeffrey won't hear me and Harry softly squeezes my shoulders.
"I'll deal with Jeffrey. Go get changed."

I go into the changing room that was actually meant for Jill and look at the outfit she was suposed to wear. Business chic oozing allover it. It kinda looks like what I was wearing when I asked Harry if I could be his p.a. At the moment, I kinda wish I didn't even ask that question at all. How does he always get what he wants? It's those damn puppy eyes, I swear.

I put on the tight fitting white blouse, wich was clearly designed to show some clevage, good god, wriggle myself into the black sheer tights and an equally tight black pencil skirt. The high heeled black pumps that go with it are a little too big for me, so I go searching for a different pair. As I leave my changing room, Jeffrey is shouting at Harry.
"If this blows up in our faces, you can find yourself a new manager! You're ruining both of our careers!"
He storms out of the studio and I try to not look at Harry as I walk up to the lady who is in charge of the wardrobe.
"Christine? Do you have these one size smaller?"
Christine quickly finds me a better fitting pair of high heels and I carefully take a few steps in them. I never wear heels this high, but after walking back and forth a bit, I manage to walk in them without losing my balance, albeit slowly.

Harry has been watching me the entire time and it's making me feel tense. I walk past him towards the hair and make up section, but as I pass him he gently grabs my arm.
"Now I'm really nervous. You look ravaging."
My head snaps to the side to look at him, but he lets go of me and walks away towards the set, to talk  to the director.
For fucks sake Harry, why?

When I look into the mirror a little hour later, I hardly recognise myself. I love the burgundy lipstick, but I feel like my eyelids are too dark. My hair is put up in a simple wrench, kept in place by a pin that Harry is suposed to pull out of my hair in the middle of the scene, to let my hair down. At the moment I look like a ridiculously sexy secretary. Ofcourse that's the intention, but it's making me feel even more uncomfortable. This is so not me. But that also calms me, because if I don't feel like myself it might be easier to play the part.

I slowly walk up to the set. The set is made to look like an office, a luxureous desk and office chair on the left, facing the door on the right. There's a glass on the desk, made to look like there's whisky in it, though ofcourse it's not real whisky. There's also a monitor on the desk, the back of it towards the camera, so Harry will be facing the camera when the scene starts.

Harry is still talking to the director, his back towards me when I walk up to them, and the director looks at me in disbelief.
"Mrs Lanshire? You look....different."
Harry turns around smiling, but his smile fades as he looks me up and down, lips slightly parted.
Harry please, don't look at me like that. You're going to make me combust.

"Wow..." he mumbles. Very helpfull. I wonder if it's too late to back out, because I don't see how I will not massively mess this up. The director leaves us, asking us to stand right there on set as he goes to the screen and see where light needs adjusting, or if the angle of the cameras is correct. So, here I am, looking like an alien, next to Harry looking sexier than ever. I puff up my cheeks and slowly puff out a long breath of air.

"Good. Deep breaths. Very smart. Maybe you should tell a joke to kill the tension."
I giggle softly as I look up at Harry. I don't know if he's pretending to be nervous to make me feel better or if he really is nervous, but he appears nervous.
"The only joke I can think of right now is stolen from Louis, and might bring back memories."
"Tell it anyway."
I look at him intently, trying to figure out if it's really ok, but he looks away, tense and I guess I should just do what he says.
"Why did the mushroom go to the party?"
Harry starts chuckling.
"Because he was a fungi. I remember that. Zayn nearly died laughing. Good memories."
He chuckles again, seemingly a little more relaxed and he glances at me.
"How can I help you relax?"
I shrug.
"You know, I usually just deflect my nerves and other negative feelings by being mean or sassy."
Harry looks at me with half a smile.
"How would you go about that in this situation?"
I smile a little.
"I'd probably say this whole thing is ridiculous. You, a daddy? Laughable. You can be intimidating when you have to be, but a daddy is more than just intimidating. There's also a certain dominance. And you're too much of an adorable sweet cupcake to be dominant. Louis on the other hand, serious Daddy vibes. Just one look of those piercing blue eyes could get anyone on their knees."

Harry frowns and looks me up and down again.
"So I don't have Daddy vibes?"
I shake my head vigorously.
"Not at all."

Harry closes the distance between us with one big step. Despite my high heels I'm still not as tall as he is(that's why I almost always wear heels around Harry, because I'm actually really short) and Harry literally presses his forehead and nosetip against mine. His eyes glance down at my lips and his tongue flicks out between his own.
"Not dominant you say?"
"Right now you're just intimidating."
Like hell I'm going to admit I'm on fire right now. No reason for him to know that. That would only make him more confident.
Harry puts both hands on my hips and slowly starts pushing me backwards.
"H-Harry? What are you-"
My back softly comes to contact with the wall, right where he's suposed to push me against it for the actual scene. His left hand grabs my right wrist and puts my hand above my head as his right hand slides up from my hip, slowly landing on my ribs. His knee nudges between my legs, pushing the tight skirt up a bit.
"Harry!" I gasp at him. "Stop..."
He leans his head into my neck, his lips subtly brushing my ear and I shiver. I am so going to need clean panties, holy shit.
"Want to correct your statement?" he whispers in my ear, but even in a whisper his voice is low and rumbly and incredibly sexy.
"St-statement?"
He chuckles in my ear and nudges up his knee, effectively rubbing me in the wrong, but oh so right place.
"Say it. Tell me what I am."
Oh my god. He's out to humiliate me. But I really do need him to let me go.
"Daddy...." I whisper, blushing as the word leaves my lips.
"Good girl."
He lets me go and backs away from me, a smug grin on his face. The director clears his troath, notifying us that he is in fact, right beside us.
Oh god, everyone just saw that.
Harry smiles at him innocently as I still try to catch my breath.
"We thought it was a good idea to rehearse a bit. Warm up a little before we get to the real thing, you know?"
The director raises his eyebrows in surprise.
"Well, good job then. That looked very convincing. Promising. Very promising. Positions then?"
We both nod as I straighten up my clothes, and look up at Harry. I wait untill the director is out of hearing range again before I scoldingly whisper at him.
"Rehearse? Really?"
He just laughs, turns around and walks to the desk, his starting position being the office chair.

I get behind the door and one of the crew members hands me a silver platter with the "Daddy" perfume on it. I'm really getting anxious now. Why did I agree to this?
The director's voice echoed over the set.
"Harry, ready?"
"Yes, I'm ready, Mark."
Mark. That was his name. How could I have forgotten such a simple name? Or maybe he just never told me? I can't remember."
"Ready miss Lanshire?"
"I need two seconds", my voice croaked.
Oh bloody hell. Breathe, Lilly.
I inhaled so deeply that the blouse became dangerously tight around my chest and stomach area , and held my breath before slowly letting it out. I straightened my back, put on my 'I-know-how-to-get-what-I-want' bussiness face, cause I was suposed to look proffessional but seductive, and cleared my troath.
"Ready, Mike."
"Mark."
Fuck.
I heard Harry chuckle from the other side of the set, and cursed him in silence.

"Allright, silence please. On your marks. Five, four, three, two, one, ACTION!"
I knocked on the door three times and waited.
"Come in." Harry said in his slow, deep voice.
As I open the door with the silver platter balanced on my other hand, I tentavily step onto the set.
"Mr Styles? It's here."
My voice doesn't sound like my own. Too slow, too low. Too much. I feel like I'm overdoing the seductiveness, but nobody says cut, and Harry slightly turns his chair to face me instead of the pc screen, the glass of fake whisky balancing between the tips of his lefthand indexfinger and thumb. He slowly looks up to me and for a split second I forget what I was suposed to do. Just him sitting there, his white, tightfitting shirt clinging to his muscled body, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, is quite an overwhelming sight. I must have missed my cue because of the way he looks at me, but again, no 'cut'.

I'm suposed to walk forward and stop about two feet away from the desk, but I stumble and fall on my knees and hands, the silver platter and the perfume clattering on the carpetted floor.
"Cut!"
Harry is by my side in a flash, gently holding my arm to pull me back up.
"Are you allright?"
I nod.
"Just stumbled. These heels are really high."
"Did you hurt anything?"
I shake my head as I check my thights for possible tears, straighten my clothes and look up at Harry with a slight smile.
"Nothing but my pride."

The director asks us to start from the beginning, but this time I trip right as I step onto the set.
"Sweet lemon biscuits!" I shout, trying to not curse on set and emberass Harry for having a foul mouthed p.a.
I hear several crew members snigger and Harry chuckles as well, as he picks me up off the floor again.
"Bloody shoes", I mutter at him.
A crewmember picks up the silver platter and the bottle of perfume again and tries to hand it to me, but Harry stops him.
"What's the problem with the shoes, Lilly? Too high?"
I glance down at the high heels, twisting my feet a bit.
"Yea. The highest thing I've ever comfortably walked on is atleast an inch lower than this, if not two."
The director joined us halfway through the conversation and only needs a look from Harry to call out for Christine. Within ten minutes she's found a pair that I can walk on, and that also still looks like a seductive secretary could wear it. And once again we start from the beginning. Swear to god, if I fall one more time, I will scream at my own inability to walk.

I knock on the door again.
"Come in."
For the third time in half an hour I step on the set.
"Mr Styles? It's here."
Harry turns his chair slightly to turn my way, looks up to my slowly. It seems like he's even trying to do it slower than previous times, so I start gliding towards the desk before his gaze has reached my face, the silver platter carefully ballanced on the fingertips of my hands.
There's a taped cross on the floor where I'm suposed to stand, and this time I reach it without falling. Finally.

Harry gets up, slowly makes his way around the desk and stops right in front of me. He looks into my eyes intensely, and I'm really struggling to keep a straight face. I want to lick my lips, because they feel dry, but I can't. Harry puts the whisky glass he was holding on the desk behind him and starts loosening his tie, like the script says he should. I knew that was coming, but actually seeing that just one foot away from me is doing stuff to me. But I'm not allowed to fysically react untill he sprays the perfume on himself.
The tie is now hanging around his neck, both ends hanging straight down from his shoulders, wich is a look, and then he unbuttons the top two buttons of his tight white shirt.
Bloody hell, my mouth is watering.

Harry carefully grabs the bottle and sprays his exposed neck. And I'm so glad I'm actually suposed to gasp now, because the sight of his strong hands around that bottle and the slight wetness of the perfume on his neck, not even mentioning the actual scent, make me weak in the knees. My 'scripted' gasp is loud.

I almost drop the silver platter, but luckily Harry grabs it and tosses it off the set with a loud clang, almost making me laugh, but his other hand lands on my hip at the same time he grabbed the platter, and now he starts pushing me backwards, but he does it a lot faster than during our 'rehearsal', considering this is suposed to look passionate, wich causes me to trip again, but Harry feels it, and Harry being the guy of insane reflexes, suddenly grabs me firmly at my thighs and lifts me up, wrapping my legs around his waist.

I make a shocked sound, not just because this is very much unscripted and therefor I'm surprised and ,obviously, shocked, but he does it at such speed and force that my tight black skirt can't handle it, and it rips at the seem on the side of my left thigh, exposing my left thigh to the camera, almost all the way up to my ass.
Fucking hell Harry!

Why is nobody saying 'cut'?
I've wrapped my arms around Harry's neck, enabling him to carry me with one arm, as he uses his left hand to pull the pin out of my hair, and my hair falls down just before he slams me into the wall and knocks the air out of me.

"Harry....", I whisper, for a moment completely forgetting we're on set. He glances at me a quick, surprised, but burries his head in my neck as if he's kissing me there, still firmly keeping me pinned against the wall and I gasp again. I'm breathing pretty heavily. This is where the scene should end.
"Cut!"
Oh my god! Finally!

Harry slowly puts me back on my feet and takes one step back. I immediately cover my face with my hands, not just out of emberassment but also because I simply can't look at him.
"Oh dear god, I completely messed that up." I mumble into my hands. I feel a hand on my shoulder and I just know it's Harry.
"Hey.....Hey. Lilly, that went well. Nobody expects to nail this in one take."
I look up at him with a slight frown, dropping my hands to my hips.
"Yea, but this was the third take, and all of them failed because I have apparently forgotten how my legs work."
Harry shakes his head.
"No, I went too fast. It was my fault you tripped."
"Was it also your fault that I whispered your name?" I ask with a tinge of sarcasm.
He softly chuckles but before he can answer the director is next to us.
"That was great! Why did you suddenly go off script?"
Harry and I start talking at the same time and then both stay quiet at the same time too. He gestures at me to do my say.
"I...uhm....I tripped." I start saying, but as soon as I finish that sentence, Harry intervenes.
"My bad. I pushed her backwards a little too fast. And, well, I tried to catch her, but when I grabbed hold of her, uh, it kinda felt natural to do it this way?"

Mark laughs excitedly.
"It looked natural too. Pretty lucky the skirt ripped. Looked very intense. Come, have a look!"
He turns around and walks back to the recording station. Harry smiles and winks at me, pulling my arm into his as we follow. He leans into me a bit.
"So why did you whisper my name all of a sudden?"
He asks it quietly so Mark won't hear us.
"I was in shock, you startled me."
Wich is true, but it's not the real reason.

The real reason is that Harry has woken up my desire to be touched. Something a dildo or a vibrator can't really do. I haven't been touched like this in years. Or ever, come to think of it. My ex wasn't all that great in any aspect and Kyle was pretty vanilla. Not really someone who'd just pick me up and pin me against a wall. And it's really, really bad that it's Harry, even if it's acting. I'm not in love with him, but sexualy attracted might be even worse, and right now I seriously want to fuck him.

Oh, shit on a stick....I want to have sex with my boss. This is a nightmare.

I realise Harry was apologising while I was having an internal crisis and that we've arrived at the recording station. The maincamera is linked to a bigger screen so we can watch what we just recorded. Ofcourse I'm overly criticizing my own performance, anybody would. The problem is that I know that my reactions to Harry are real. The crew and Harry seem to think I just have a natural talent for acting.

My amused shock at Harry throwing the platter off set is clearly visible on my face, my mouth open in a small "o", the corners twitching up, and I start apologising for my lack of proffesionalism, when Harry says he thinks it looks hilarious, especially since it becomes such a hot mess afterwards.

My tripping incident goes completely unnoticed thanks too Harry's fast thinking, and then there's my loud gasp when my skirt ripped and the softer whisper of his name, completely laced with lust. It actually sounds so surprisingly pornographic, I see one of the younger crew assistants adjust himself in his pants. Good god. Plus I know my horny, rasping whisper is real, but everyone else thinks it was just good acting on my part. I'm not so happy that the mic picked up on it in the first place.

I'm so lost in thought that I missed the conversation between Mark and Harry, and now Harry turns around at me. Did he ask me a question?

"Excuse me, I wasn't connected. Did you ask me something?"

Harry frowns surprised and shortly nods.
"Yea, Mark was wondering if it would be allright to film the wall scene again. In our rehearsal I pinned your hand above your head, and Mark said that looked better than what we did now. Do you mind?"

Yes. I bloody fucking mind.

I can't really chicken out now. And like Harry said. It's never going to be good in one take. I expected we'd have to do several takes. I just didn't expect it would be this intense for me. So intense for my body. I didn't think I would react so strongly.

"Sure, whatever you need." My voice sounds without me even realising what I'm saying, and I sound more sure of myself than I actually feel.

We walk back on set again, Mark requesting we start from the moment Harry lifted me up, considering my skirt is already ripped. Wich means I kinda have to jump into Harry's arms before Mark even says action. This cannot be good for my heart.

Harry lifts me up without trouble, his hands supporting my ass, my hands tightly gripping at the shoulders of his shirt. Mark counts down, calls 'action' and Harry carries me towards the wall again, again pulling the pin from my hair. My back hits the wall, Harry's hips pin me into place, his right hand slips up to my ribs, his left hand pins my right hand above my head. I whisper his name again, as Harry and Mark both agreed that was a great 'touch', and then Harry burries his face in my neck under my left ear.

"Cut!"
Harry looks up, without letting me down to my feet, waiting for instructions. Mark looks at him.
"You're blocking the view Harry. You're suposed to kiss the right side of her neck."
Harry nods, Mark instructs us to just redo the last part.
Harry looks at me intensely and then nuzzles the right side of my neck. I lean my head back against the wall and sigh. I really wouldn't mind if he'd actually kiss me. Or bite me.

"Cut! Well done. That's it for today."
I hadn't even noticed it was already past 5 p.m. This day has flown by.
Harry puts me down, and I quickly make my way to my dressing room, changing back into my ladysuit. Much better. I wipe off the dark eyeshadow and burgundy lipstick, sighing in relief as I recognise my own face again. When I exit my dressing room I see Harry is already done changing as well. He looks more like his casual self, his oversized fuzzy jumper on his baggy shorts. This Harry I can handle. Sort of.

On our way home Harry decides we should have take-out, since we're both knackered, but he ends up taking me to a restaurant instead. I protest a little, because it might look like a date and cameras are everywhere, but Harry gestures at my suit and his own clothes, and reassures me it could never look like a date, definitely since people know I'm his P.A.

Harry stretched his back when we get home, groaning as he does it.
"Are you okay, Harry?"
"Yea, just a sore back."
I know he's had a bad back since he was younger. That apparently hasn't changed.
"Can I do anything to make it better?" I offer, though I'm afraid it might mean I need to give him a massage, and that means he'll take his jumper off, and I really don't want that right now. To my relief Harry shakes his head.
"Nah, a hot shower will do. Or maybe a bath. You should go to sleep, you look tired."

I nod, but I don't go to sleep. I take my little pink bag from my nightstand, take out ever single dildo and vibrator I own and strip naked. I have my collection lined up next to me as I lay down on the bed. I fuck myself untill I faint, going through my collection one by one, fainting at the eighth one.

...........

I wake up to Niall's  Midnight Memories solo, only to find myself surrounded by used sextoys, still naked.

"Geez...." I mumble to myself. I start cleaning my toys in the bathroom, and put them away again, before cleaning myself and my sheets. But although I passed out from having 'too many' orgasms, I'm still restless. It's just orgasms. It's not intimacy.

Back on set I get changed and into make-up again. Today we're shooting close-ups. Close-ups of me entering the office and presenting the perfume. Of Harry in the office chair, reacting to my knock, turning to face me, him looking me up and down. And close-ups of us against the wall. Him staring at me intensively, me gasping, parting my lips, looking aroused. I'm not sure how I'm suposed to act arousal. I mean, I can gasp and moan, but I can't dilate my pupils for example. And that's what I tell Mark and Harry.

Harry thinks I'll do great, as he always does, and Mark ensures me that if it won't look naturally real, they can video-edit the material to make it look like my pupils are dilated. But first we shoot the 'end-scene'. On a different part of the set they've made a decor that looks like a bedroom. I have to lay down on the bed, covered by the blankets, looking completely fucked out, but in a pretty way, and Harry wil sit on the end of the bed, just in his trousers, looking proud and smiling at the camera sexily.

The crew works on making it look like I'm naked. I'm shirtless, but I'm wearing a strapless top. The blanket is pulled up just high enough to cover my boobs. My arms are adjusted next to my head for what seems like a billion times untill Mark and Harry are sattisfied with how it looks. Then they spend an hour on smudging my lipstick just right, and sprawling my hair on the pillows around my head. Harry gets lipstick kisses on his neck and chest and his hair gets a little tousled. He sits down at the end of the bed. I close my eyes, as I'm suposed to look asleep, with a slight smile on my face.

There's a whole construction with a camera on it, a half arch. The camera starts right above me, and then slowly curves along the arch to end up at Harry, who then has to look up at it, look in to the camera, wipe his mouth like he just had something tasty, and smile his sexiest smile.
Mark gives me the final instructions and then calls for silence. This is without a doubt the easiest scene for me, since I can just lay still. I hear the camera slide down the arched construction.
It is no surprise to me that we get this in one take. Considering I'm not really able to screw it up.

After the bedscene we get prepped for our close ups. I get a little breather as they shoot Harry's close-ups first. My solo close-ups go well enough, wich means we quickly get to our close-ups together. And they are agony. We spend hours pressed up against that fucking wall, with only short breaks to give Harry some rest from lifting me, even though his hips are pinning me and he keeps assuring me I'm not heavy at all. But Mark constantly has something to comment on. Us not keeping eyecontact. My lips looking too dry. My lips not parting enough, or too much. It's ironic. Being sandwiched between Harry and the wall just becomes awkward, all sexual tension I felt earlier has been replaced with annoyed irritation and frustration, and that's exactly what's causing it to take so long, at least, I think that's the problem.

I hear Harry sigh when Mark calls cut again. He doesn't put me down but just waits for the instructions. I hardly hear them. I really don't know how to improve this without actually getting turned on again. And I really don't know how to do that.
Harry sighs again, and I look him in the eye. Being so close to him, his nose almost touching mine, makes my heart beat faster, but it's not enough to make this close-up perfect.
Harry keeps my eyes locked in his. He looks tired. Or maybe he's frustrated with me.
"Forgive me, Lilly." he whispers.
"For what?" I whisper back, but before he can answer, Mark calls for silence and counts down again. Harry shifts his stance, keeping me up with his right thigh, making me halfly straddle his left.

Oh god....that's why he said that.

Harry pushes his leg up the second Mark calls for action, rubbing his thigh between my legs. I feel the thumb of his right hand caress upwards on my ribs, almost touching the underside of my boob, the thumb of his left hand firmly rubs into the palm of my right hand, in sync with his rubbing leg between mine. I feel my eyes widen, my mouth opens as I gasp softly and sigh right after. And with the next rub of his thigh he bends his head and kisses my neck, just below my ear, and then I feel his breath hitch against my skin as I dig my nails into his shoulder, and his next whisper tickles my earlobe.
"I want you."

My moan is emberassing. My cheeks must be red, because I feel like I have a fever, and once again I realise, emberrassingly, that I'm gonna need clean panties. I'm so wet right now, I might be going crazy. This better be done, because I can't take this anymore. If Harry touches me for much longer, I might seriously rip his shirt off his body. I'm losing control, I need to get away.

"Cut! That's a wrap! Well done, that was perfect."
Mark shouts the releasing words and I nearly push Harry off of me, halfly falling to the ground.
"Lilly?"
Harry reaches out for me to help me up, but I scramble up and glare at him.
"Don't touch me Harry. Seriously."
"Shit. I'm sorry Lilly. I...I just....I felt like we were both at the end of our wits, exhausted. It just....we just had to get it right. I'm sorry."
Harry keeps apologising but I turn away from him.
"I'm gonna change", I say to him, ignoring his apologies.
"Lilly? Wait."
I stop and sigh.
"What is it?" I know I sound bitchy right now, but I can't help it. He can't know that I will fuck him right here on set if I turn around now.
Harry's voice comes softly, surprised.
"My trousers are wet."
I look over my shoulder with a frown, seeing him rub a wet spot on his left thigh.

Oh no. Oh god, please no.

Harry looks confused, rubbing his thumb through the wetness and bringing it up to his nose. I watch in horror as he sniffs it, not able to move, frozen in my panicked terror.
Harry's eyes widen and he looks up to me, and then down at my ripped skirt.
"Jesus, Lilly...."
I groan and cover my face.
"Oh my god. This isn't happening." I moan in emberassment. I turn around and practically run off set, locking myself in my changing room.

..........

The ride home is awkward. I turned my body away from Harry as much as I possibly could, looking out of the window. Not even traffic can distract me from the hot tingle between my legs, and I curse myself for wearing a dress today, clenching my thighs as much as I can.

Harry hasn't said a word, he's probably shocked by my inability to stay professional. The athmosphere is loaded, tense, and I don't know how to break that. When we stop in front of his house, I take a deep breath.
"I'll hand Jeffrey my two weeks notice tomorrow."
Before he can even answer I storm out of the car, into the house. Harry comes running after me.
"Lilly, please! I'm sorry! I know I crossed the line. I didn't mean to......I'm sorry!"

I turn around to face him. He looks at me pleading.
"Please don't leave me Lilly."
I'm confused. He thinks HE did something wrong?
"What are you talking about? You didn't do anything wrong! I completely emberassed both of us by being so unproffesional."
Now Harry looks confused.
"You're not mad at me? You're not leaving because I emberassed you?"
"God Harry. It's not your fault."

I walk into the livingroom and start pacing. Harry follows me again but keeps his distance, standing between me and the kitchen.
"Then what's wrong? Talk to me. Don't just quit."
I sigh and aggitatedly throw my hands up.
"I am SO not going to talk to you about that. Fuck! I need a drink."
"You're cursing....you must be really upset."

I storm past him into the kitchen, quickly finding a glass and a bottle of whisky.
"I'm not upset."
I hear Harry behind me as I open the bottle.
"Are you angry at me?"
I puff out a loud sigh as I start pouring.
"For fucks sake Harry, it's not you! It's ....I'm.....fucking hell."
I pour a really big glass of whisky and I hear Harry coming closer.
"That's a really big glass of whisky Lilly. What are you doing?"
"Trying to be able to sleep. If I can knock myself out, I might be sane tomorrow."
Harry only manages to choke out a confused "wha-" and then I empty the glass in four big gulps.
"Woah!! What the fuck, Lilly!!! That was a lot! Are you crazy?"
I whirl around and spit my words at him.
"No! I'm sexually frustrated, dammit!"

Harry's jaw drops and he stares without saying another word. Realising I just made a fool of myself and turn back to my glass and the bottle.
"Oh, bloody hell." I whisper, and start pouring myself another glass.
I feel him before I hear him. His right hand lands on the counter on my right, his left hand on mine as he keeps me from drinking more. His chest is flush against my back. Good god, he's torturing me.
"Let go of that glass, Lilly."
I sigh and let go, hoping that will make him let go of me too, but he doesn't. He slides the whisky out of my reach and cages me against the counter. I press myself against the counter to get away but it doesn't help. His breath on my neck is making me shudder.
"Harry please.....please get away from me. Don't.....don't touch me."

Instead of moving away, Harry wraps his arm around me, his hand landing on my tummy, his left hand caressing my arm.
"You're pink back not helping?"
My breathing accelerates.
"How-"
Harry chuckles in my ear, sending waves of heat to my wet spot.
"Come on. I knew the second I picked it up. It's a soft bag and the shapes and sizes were very obvious. You got quite a collection."

I'm blushing feverishly but even though I'd like to cover my face with my hands, I can't seem to move. Harry hasn't just pinned me against the counter, his low soft voice is in my ear, talking in his usual drawl is making it unable for me to move away, even though I know I should, because this is quickly becoming dangerously intimate.

"It's not the same. I can make myself pass out from orgasms but it still isn't  enough."

I whisper, simply because I'm unable to raise my voice. It's already trembling and shaky as it is. Harry brushes his lips against my neck and I tilt my head to get away from him, involuntarily giving him more access. This is not going well.

"Why is it not enough?" He softly ask as his lips are feathering on my skin.

"Because it's not.....It's not....It's not human. Not intimate. There's no softness, kindness. Or love."
I softly sob. It hurts to admit this, but the whisky is getting to me, Harry is getting to me, my own cunt is getting to me, and I just want to be soft and vulnerable and loved.

Harry wraps his arms around my waist as he hears me sob and unwillingly, but not really fighting it, I lean into him as a single tear escapes me.

"I just want to be touched and loved and cherished. I haven't been with anyone since Kyle, and I'm....I'm going insane. I'm mentaly fine but my body feels lonely. Does that make sense?"

Harry is quiet as he gently rocks me side to side.

"You haven't been touched since you lost your husband?"

I humm, not able to talk anymore.

"Fuck....and I asked something like this Daddy commercial from you. And I....I took it too far tonight. I was really inconsiderate. I could've known it would be difficult for you."

I nod and sigh, still sniffing a bit. Just this hug. Just his arms around me. His beating heart against my back. It's more intimate than anything I've felt in five years, almost six. I feel so warm. Although the whisky is probably doing its part too when it comes to making me feel warm.
Harry's right hand slides down to my tummy again, his left hand sliding up my waist, around my back and into my neck, grabbing my jaw and turning my head to face him. He pecks me on the cheek and brings his lips to my ear as his hand slides around my troath, just resting there.

"Let me help you."

There's a loud gasp, and I'm pretty sure it's mine.

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A.N: massive shoutout to @ilovesadiesink1978 for voting on chapter 14! Really appreciated, glad you enjoyed it!

Whooo! This chapter really got away from me abit. Almost 6500 words, that's atleast double of what I usually do. Hope you enjoyed it though. Let me know! Xoxo