Harry Styles Imagines (Book 2)

Baby

Harry’s POV

(Y/N) and I lay in the back of my Range Rover, our bodies entangled together. My fingers combed through her hair, while my lips hungrily attached themselves to hers. Our tongues moved together, small gasps and moans escaping our lips. My hands wandered down to her breasts, and I couldn’t help the smirk that made its way onto my face.

“Excuse me,” a deep voice, called out to us, and I lazily looked up, struggling to make out the appearance of the man waving his flashlight at us. “Sir, you aren’t allowed to be here after hours.”

I blinked again this time, focusing on the gold badge he had on his chest. “Oh shit. Man, I-I’m sooo sorryyy.” I hiccuped loudly then offered the officer a smile that I hoped made me appear more sober than I actually was.

“Sir,” the cop leaned in closer, “why are your words slurred?”

“I-I don’t know, man. Don’t ask me; ask hurr.” I pointed at (Y/N), earning myself a slap on the back of the head.

After another few minutes of getting an interrogation, the cop decided we were much too drunk to find our way back to our hotel, so we ended up sitting in the backseat of his car. As he drove slowly down the road to the station, I pulled (Y/N) closer so that her head was resting on my chest.

“When this blows overr, you wanna hit the c-club?” I asked, toying with her hair.

“Sure.”

I laughed, leaning back in the leather seat. This happens daily, and (Y/N) was always with me. (Y/N) was different. She was my baby.