Complicity [h.s]

36

Aven Brooks

Sneaking out of the club is easy.

Sneaking into Harry's apartment is harder.

Around the corner from his place, I knew I had less than thirty minutes until Zayn started looking for me. With five minutes of travel time each way, that left us with twenty minutes. And if Harry was being honest about his dry spell, twenty minutes would be more than enough time.

This is very irresponsible and very dangerous.

But I need this. And with the way Harry's weaving us through stalled traffic, tells me he needs this too. Before I could even hesitate about my impulsive decision, we were already inside the restaurant. His hands dove for his keys to get us into the basement apartment. I can't stay off of him in the meantime. My back presses to the door he needs to open, my lips kissing along the base of his neck. He tries to control himself while fumbling with the keys, selfishly keeping one hand on my hip.

"You're killing me..." He breathes heavily as my hands can't keep to myself, gripping the base of his belt and kissing his throat. Pure heat scorches between us, I can feel his pulse throbbing against my lips.

With swift movement, he grooves his key into the lock. A silent signal is given by the gentle placement of his finger over grinning lips. I nod, trying to steady my breathing. He grips my hand and guides us inside, leading us to the basement with light footsteps. Upon reaching the bottom of the creaky stairs, he cautiously peeks around to ensure that we are alone. When everything seems safe, he hurries us to the bedroom. I run in first, stopping at the centre of the small, shadowing room.

I turn around to witness him shut the door with his back. The look on his face is one I've seen so many times before—desire with a bit of cockiness in his eyes. He's quick to close the space between us with intimidation, grabbing my hands down by my sides and intertwining our fingers together. Looking up at him, he keeps the devilish stare, strolling forwards as I step backwards.

"You look good in my bedroom light." He gravels under his breath, seamlessly kicking off his shoes with his walk.

"Do I?" I tease.

"Mhmm..." He nods in a smirk on his face.

He suddenly crouches down enough to wrap his arms under my ass and lift me off the ground. I gasp and grab his shoulders, hugging my legs around his body in instinct. My dress rides up, and he doesn't miss a moment when looking down to notice it. He throws me down on the edge of the unmade twin bed, my hair fanning the sheets.

His quickening hands grab at the neckline of his sweater, pulling it up and over his head. For a second of time, his shirt gets drawn halfway up his body with the static. My eyes dart to the exposed skin of his abs before the shirt falls back over them. He tosses the sweater away.

Edge of the bed, I prop myself up by my elbows.

He looks down the length of my body, using his knee to separate mine. Standing tall between my legs, he towers in front of me. His shaded eyes roam down my body, the dress bunched up at my waist.

"You're pure art..." He shakes his head in denial, in awe of my mere existence.

"Yeah?"

I bite my lip and slowly straighten up in front of him, sliding off the thin straps of my slip dress while keeping eye contact. The airy material valleys down to a pile at my hips, my chest exposed to him.

"How about now?" I slowly fall back flat again, fanning my arms with the sheets.

His eyes deflate down at my breasts, every tension in his face releasing with hopeless mercy. One knee at a time, he falls before me without breaking eye contact with them. It's like I casted a spell. He hunches over and invites his mouth to my left breast. My lips part, my eyes shut, and I alleviate a breath into the air.