Harry pov
"Oh, God," I groaned.
I covered up my ears and rolled over on my bed as I heard the grunts coming from my bathroom – my shower, to be exact.
"Oh God, he is not ... that sonofabitch."
But oh, yes, he was; He was jerking off in my shower. That fucking asshole.
I had told him he could stay one night because he was too weak to find another safe place to sleep, plus I still needed him for planning details, and then guess what the first thing he did was when he woke up from sleeping on my couch? I hardly needed to say it.
"Are you kidding me?" I seethed to myself as I heard his grunts resonating against my bathroom tiles. "Oh, for the love of Christ."
I threw my covers off and got up from my bed, moving to my dresser. Picking out my clean underwear and attire for the day, consisting of a pair of jeans and a black shirt, I begun dressing, skipping the shower.
There was no way I was washing myself in there after he had... done that. So he's too weak to find another place to sleep, but not too weak to jerk off.
I scoffed. I was buttoning my pants up when I heard him turn off the water, then heard the shower stall open. Not
moments later, my bathroom door opened, and from across my living room, I saw him step out, steam trailing behind him. He laid eyes on me as I quickly wore my shirt. He smirked, the damn fucker. I just scowled.
"Did you see everything you wanted?"
"Almost." Was his coy reply.
Asshole . "Did you use up all my hot water?"
"Probably. I like hot baths, too. We should start showering together. You know; save water, save the earth."
I scoffed again. "If you can't keep your fucking mind out of the gutter, then we will have a seriously hard time
working togeth—"
"Relax, and I already do have a hard time working with you," zayn said, walking up to the coffee table where his washed clothes from yesterday laid folded neatly. With just a towel wrapped around his body and his skin still coated in water, he looked like a model for an Acqua di Gio perfume commercial. The tattoo was a nice addition.
"Don't tell me to relax when you're fucking jerking off in my shower," I replied, forcing my eyes away from him. I pulled my hair up in a tight bun, combing it all out of my face. I could wash my face in the sink. At least he hadn't unloaded there. "Could you please control your urges to when I'm not around?"
"Why? Did it turn you on?"
Dear Lord, I needed to slap him. Maybe it hadn't exactly turned me off listening to a full-grown man pleasuring himself, but I couldn't be thinking of that right now.
I had a missing tech guy, a corrupted government and about two dozen fucking people to bring into foreign witness protection. Oh, and then there was the matter of getting zayn out of the country, basically betraying my own government. – That was my Thursday for you.
"No, it didn't turn me on, you fucking shit," I snapped at him, now coming out of my bedroom. "But I can't focus
when you're —oh, for Pete's sake, zayn! "
He had taken off his towel and started drying himself, not giving a damn that I was standing right there. His family
jewels were right there for me to ogle at, except I averted my gaze, holding my hand up to block the sight of
him. I couldn't tell which one of us was acting more immature.
The problem was, I was hardly keeping it in my pants at this point. It was already hard enough working with a sexually charged Italian man who clearly didn't get enough the first time.
