Mr. Styles (H.S.) [COMPLETE]

Two

It was an eye opening experience working for Harry Styles. The sheer size of his apartment made her wonder why on earth he only hired one personal housekeeper instead of an army. Dear god. Did one person really need all this space?

She also found out quickly that she needed to have a keen eye while washing his garments – learning this only after ruining a $2,000 Gucci blazer by washing it in the spin cycle. It was safe to say Mr. Styles was less than pleased with her over her mishandling of his possessions. But something told her he held back his anger with her on the subject, and she wondered if maybe it was the lax atmosphere he was striving for at home that he mentioned during her post-interview. She wasn't quite sure. She saw the anger in his eyes, but something held him back from completely ripping her a new one.

...

Her first mortifying moment with the beautiful man happened one day as she was putting away his laundry in his massive closet. A closet that was probably the entire square footage of her last studio apartment. While going through his drawers to figure out where everything went, she came across some items she was certain would be condemned to the non-disclosure list.

Her face blushed rapidly after opening up a drawer filled with neatly placed sexual instruments all in a row – arranging from various vibrating toys to anal beads to whips and even handcuffs. Some of the stuff was so foreign to her that she couldn't even guess what sexual act they were meant for.

Katherine's mouth went completely dry as her eyes scanned over the perversion of the drawer. Along with the toys, there was also a very large box of condoms and a hefty bottle of lube, which made her wonder if he really was gay.

She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, her eyes still glued to the equipment. She had to admit, every single particle in her lower regions began tingling at the sight of the devious instruments. What kind of kinky fuck was he? She was more than a little curious.

"Miss Mason," she heard Mr. Styles' stern voice.

"Oh, fuck!" She gasped, slamming the drawer shut, jumping to face him.

Her heart was beating in her throat as she stood in front of him, cheeks rapidly blushing, caught red-handed.

"I see you've been... exploring," he stated evenly, keeping his face completely cool.

"I-I... I was putting away laundry, sir. I'm sorry. My god, I'm sorry. I didn't... I didn't mean to snoop. I'm so sorry," she stammered, moving toward the laundry basket, smoothing the hair out of her face, feeling more flustered than she ever felt in her entire life.

"It is your job," he said evenly.

"But, I mean... I'm sorry. I-I... no judgment," she stammered, holding her hand over her heart, unable to meet his eyes.

"A healthy sex life is rewarding. Not only to the body, but to the mind as well," he spoke freely, and she couldn't help the massive blush that gripped her face.