Collection of Haylor stories inspired by their songs.
Mostly angsty/sexy/damn we should not be doing this.
Thank you @SunnyMt2 for beta reading, being my inspiration to actually finish something and supporting me every step of the way.
Cover art f...
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Lights are out he's taking off his coat.
He comes to her in the middle of the night.
***
He slips silently through the door and closes it gently behind him, reaching over to punch the code into the alarm system before it starts blaring.
She's left the key in the door as usual and he turns to lock it. He hates her leaving it unlocked, but God forbid she comes down to meet him. Can't risk a situation where they have to have an actual conversation.
He makes his way up the stairs taking them two at a time and lets himself into her room. The lights are out and the room is bathed in the dim blue moonlight.
She's asleep in her bed, curled up on her side, breathing softly. He can see that she's wearing her Eagles t-shirt and he smiles, thinking of how adorable she looks in it and also the easy access it provides to all the places he most wants to touch. And how quick it is to get off.
He takes off his coat, shoes and jeans and slides into bed behind her, sweeping her hair aside to kiss her neck.
"Hey baby," he whispers.
"Hmmph," she moans sleepily and he smiles against her neck and slides one arm underneath her and the other around her waist cuddling up to her. He lies there for a moment, continuing to kiss the back of her neck and enjoying the feel of her in his arms, pressed up against him. It's not often she lets him hold her like this these days. Her fingers absentmindedly stroke his arm leaving goosebumps in their wake and he surpresses a shiver.
"You know, you really shouldn't be leaving that door open, it's not safe," he tries, but he knows it's a losing battle. She will continue to leave the door open in case he decides to come to her. She will not give him a key or come to meet him downstairs.
As expected, she blatantly ignores him and he rolls his eyes at the back of her head.
"Fine, but don't blame me when the axe murderers come knocking," he says and slides his hand down her side to her thighs.
He grins as she gasps at the coldness of his hand on her bare, sleep-warmed skin. He slides his hand down her long legs as far as he can reach then back up, bringing the hem of her shirt up with it. His feather-light touch ghosts over her hip, the lace of her panties catching slightly on his hand, up under her shirt, over her stomach and ribs to her breasts, gently cupping one then the other. She moans softly, tilts her head back against his shoulder and he smiles into her soft hair. She has incredibly sensitive nipples and loves the way he touches them. He kisses her neck and shoulder, teeth grazing lightly.
He runs his hand back down her body and dips his fingers into her panties, wanting to feel how much he is affecting her. He finds her wet and spreads her juices, alternating circling her clit and dipping the tips of each of his fingers inside her one at a time until he has her moaning and writhing in his arms, just how he wants her.
She rolls over to face him. He has one arm still underneath her and he keeps the other in her panties as she turns, still gently toying with her clit. She looks up at him with those beautiful desperate blue eyes and he wonders how he managed to stay away from her this long. He presses a gentle kiss to her nose and then rests his forehead against hers.
"Hey, gorgeous. I missed you."
She's about to kiss him but the smell of whiskey on his breath gives her pause.
"Selena says she heard you went back to *hers* last night," she says, trying to keep the bitterness out of her voice.
He pulls back slightly, looking down at her surprised and pulls his hand from her knickers, resting it on her hip.
"Well yeah..." he says. "Taylor... I'm not gonna lie to you...it's true."
She closes her eyes against the pain and nods.
"But only because you said..."
"Yeah, I know. I know what I said," she whispers.
She opens her eyes again as he brings his hand up to stroke her hair gently, tenderly. He looks at her with desperation.
"But Tay... I... You have to know, I can't stop thinking about you..." he says, his voice low and strangled, close to breaking. "You know you're the only one I want to be with." He gives her a look that's honestly almost pathetic and his thumb grazes gently over her cheek. "I want you all the time."
She should have more self-respect. Really, she should. But he's here and she's turned on and he looks so fucking gorgeous in the dim light and he's gone and got her all worked up now.
And really, it's not his fault any more than it's her fault.
She feels her resistance melting. Rolls her eyes.
"Fine, but you're wearing a condom," she says and he grins widely and leans forward to kiss her, scooping her into his arms and pulling her close to him.
"Absolutely," he murmurs against her lips.
"And this is the last time..." she warns him, kissing him back.
"Mmmhmm"
"I swear to God, Harry."
"Yep, got you. Last time."
He grabs a condom from where he knows she keeps them, second drawer in her dresser, hidden underneath an old diary.
She never lets him be gentle anymore so it's hot and hard and fast. In her head, she thinks it's better than slow and romantic but in some ways, it's worse. No one else can take her apart like this. No one has ever fucked her like he does, before or since. No one has ever driven her this wild with passion and desire. No one has ever made her come so hard she feels like every part of her body is exploding. No one else can leave her so completely sated.
Afterwards, he collapses next to her and pulls her close, covered in sweat and panting.
"God, Tay, do you have any idea how much I lo-"
"Don't say it. It's too late for that."
He swallows hard.
"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry."
She won't let him tell her he loves her, but she still cuddles up to his chest and lets him stroke her hair, and as she falls asleep in his arms, he likes to think she knows.
He knows the drill, knows he needs to be gone before she wakes up in the morning.
And sure enough, he is, a note on the pillow next to her head the only evidence he was ever there at all.
Lock your damn door Swift. Xx
She smiles sadly, knowing in her heart of hearts, she'll always leave the door open for him.
