Feels Like Falling

part 16

The warm water hit my skin but still felt cold and the delicious scent of my new bodywash filled the shower. I stood in the stream of water for what seemed like ages, as it slowly began to feel warmer, just thinking about Louis. I was nervous to tell him about this arrangement and scared that he would hate me for it.  Without really realizing, I had begun to cry. I could barely feel the tears run down my face with the now hot water from the shower hitting my closed eyes.  The shower door opened and I didn’t need to open my eyes to know it was Harry. He pulled me into a little cuddle and started stroking my hair.  I opened my eyes and gazed up at his and in that moment I didn’t have to say anything, he knew exactly what I needed. We sat together in the tub. He pulled my body close to his so my back was against his chest and he cupped his hands until they filled with water and he let it go through my hair. He took my shampoo, lathered it in his hands before putting it in my hair. I loved the feeling of someone else washing my hair but this was a million times better than when the woman at the salon did it!  Harry rinsed the suds from the shampoo one handful of water at a time and then smoothed the conditioner through my long hair.

“I don’t know how you do this everyday! So much hair it takes forever!” Harry said breaking the silence.

“I don’t wash my hair everyday.” I replied distantly.

He immediately picked up on how far away my mind was and gave my side a quick squeeze, knowing how ticklish I am. My body instinctively caved towards where Harry had grabbed me and I was jolted out of my thoughts of Louis and back to Salon Styles.  He was staring down at me; his eyes seemed to be begging for attention or explanation.

“I’m sorry Haz, I’m just thinking of Louis and what I’m going to tell him. I don’t want him to hate me. Especially because he is so important to you.”

“He wont hate you.  He already loves you, I can tell. We all do in fact. Each of us in our own way needed you to come into our lives.” Harry looked down at me with the most genuine smile and continued. “I know that sounds rubbish, but its true. Even the other lads and Paul have all said how lovely its been since you’ve arrived. Chris, Niall hasn’t stopped talking about you!”  He kissed my sweetly on the forehead and finished up with my hair.

“I know its only been a few days, but I can’t imagine not being a part of your life. When you left, I thought I had moved on. But I hadn’t… I was hurt and lonely and even a little ashamed that I had let this boy ruin me so completely.” I stopped to be sure my words were not too harsh. Harry’s face looked sad, but loving so I kept talking. “I feel awake when I’m with you, like the world has finally turned on all the lights and I can see all it has to offer us.”

“Has anyone ever told you…” Harry started and then gave me another sweet kiss on the cheek. “that you talk entirely too much?” he smiled and then added, “but I would listen to you always because your words are my words.” With that I stood up and turned to face him. His long legs outstretched as far as they could be in the rather small tub. I reached out my hand for his and tugged for him to stand up.  He obliged and his body rose and we stood facing each other, naked and wet, the hot water from the shower streaming down our bodies. I could hardly stand the knot tightening in my stomach; I wanted him so badly.  Harry picked me up easily and I held on to him tightly. Our most intimate parts fitting together perfectly.  With my back pressed up to the shower door Harry moved his hands down to my bum to hold me up and started to push deeper inside me.

“Oh god Harry!!” I yelled out as his pace quickened. In this position I was completely in his control. My legs, just long enough to wrap around him so my ankles could cross to help hold me in place. I pulled at his hair gently and his eyes flung open and he froze for a split second. My body was in agony, so close to the edge. I pulled him into a kiss with both my hands wound up in his mop of wet curls. His thrusting started to mimic the rhythm of his mouth on mine. It became slower, deeper, less ravenous and more fluid like a dance.  His smooth strokes hit me in all the right spots, each time he thrust forward he would linger there deep inside before slowly pulling back so far that our bodies almost parted completely. He was teasing me; my body would stay just at the brink of ecstasy, longing for release if he kept this pace; it was a divine form of torture.