THE LONG AND WINDING ROAD || Paul McCartney [Completed]

15. Delicate

Third floor on the west side, me and you
Handsome, you're a mansion with a view
Do the girls back home touch you like I do?

Long night, with your hands up in my hair
Echoes of your footsteps on the stairs
Stay here, honey, I don't wanna share

----

Paul was sitting on the couch with Natalie sitting in front of him. She had the paper in her lap, all while Paul gently massaged her shoulders as a "thank you" for cooking. They were laughing about an article that was published by one of the editors where he ranted on about a trip he took to New York. Instead of writing about the purpose of the trip, he elected to divulge every mishap he encountered on his journey. "Okay so now he is going off about how he had to bring his luggage up before attending his event," Natalie chuckled, "and he couldn't figure how to turn the light on in his hotel and ended having to use the facilities in the dark."

"So he had to shit in the dark? Lovely. We honestly wanted to know that," Paul answered as Natalie continued to read the article.

Natalie laughed and shook her head in discontent, "Who allowed him to publish this nonsense?"

"What's the point of it all?" Paul asked as he continued to listen to Natalie. He brushed her hair aside, moving it over her shoulder to give him better access to the back of her neck. Instead of his fingers working the tension behind her neck, she felt his lips instead. The hairs on her body rose, and her eyes shut closed from the touch. She leaned back into him, allowing the article to fall aside as he circled his arms around her waist, pulling her back against his chest on the sofa. He reached around her, gripping her jaw and tilting her head so he could trail kisses along the side of her neck.

A languid noise escaped her lips, and she let out a shaky breath, "Paul, I was trying to read that man's idiotic article," she scolded him lightly with her words, but her body responded differently. She went limp in his arms and was left entirely at his mercy.

Paul chuckled against her skin, "You are telling me that you would rather read about some stranger pooping in the dark over this?" He asked, continuing to place gentle kisses along her neck until he reached her throat. She hummed in response, and Paul knew he had her right where he wanted her.

"When are you," he kissed her jaw, "going to," he kissed just below her ear, "tell me," he kissed the side of her neck once again, "what was bothering you?" He bit down playfully, enjoying her responses to his endeavors.

"That's not fair, Paul and I'm not telling you now." She murmured. There was a catch in her voice, and Paul knew he left her breathless.

"Don't be that way," He pouted, before digging his fingers into her sides to tickle her. Natalie squirmed against him, trying to escape his grasp. He kept a firm hold on her, refusing to let her go.

She twisted in his arms and pulled away from him, slipping off the couch and onto the floor before crawling out of reach. Once she was safe, she turned to glare at him on the sofa. "That's completely unfair. You can't tickle me to get what you want."

"Just tell me what is bothering you!" He pleaded, and she shook her head. He frowned, sliding off the couch, so he was on the floor in front of her.

"You should have thought about that before you tried to manipulate me into telling you." She retorted and held up an invisible key to her lips to lock them shut and tossed the key aside.

Paul reached out, catching the pretend key in his hand and put it in his pocket. He smirked at her, "I'll save that for later when you decide to tell me what I did wrong. Because I know it's about me."