Friday, September 16, 2022

Wide awake and quite confident the late night coffee is not a factor, Harry lies with his arms under his head. If he could unlove Nataley, would he choose to do that? Would it clear up the problems for both of them?

The answer is swift. Hell no. Fuck no. Not under any circumstance would he choose to unlove her or Noah. Years before, he had watched the movie Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, and he recalls the ending clear as day. Without a doubt, unloving Nat would only result in them bumping into each other and falling in love all over again. Rubbing a hand over his face, he sighs. The truth is that he'd tried to unlove her the entire time they had been apart, yet the ring in his duffel continues to belong to her alone. Oh, how he wishes he had asked her to marry him a week after they started dating!

But that wouldn't have solved anything either.

Twisting on his side as the sun starts to rise, he watches the light play over her features as her chest rises and falls with her breath. Carefully and gently, he uses his finger to slide a piece of hair from her cheek. The ties on the hoodie aren't in a bow, and he desperately wants to reach out and connect the two ends. But he refrains, instead choosing to watch her serene face as she sleeps.

His phone buzzes, the vibrations on the wood sounding like a rocket launch in the silence of the dawn, and he snatches it quickly from the side table, afraid it might rouse Nataley. His finger swipes to the messages after the facial recognition unlocks his mobile.

Jerome: I've got three female bodyguards lined up for interviews this afternoon starting at 1:00. Faxing their resumes to Gabe's home office.

A simple "k" suffices as a response, and Harry doesn't worry that Jeffrey will interrupt again. His best friend knows if he wanted to talk, a longer reply would have followed. Returning the phone to it's charging pad, he glances at Nat to find her eyes blinking slowly as she awakens and focuses on him. "Hi," she smiles, and he imagines the single word sounds wistful.

"Morning, love." Shifting so that he can thread his legs with hers, he scoots closer, hugging his pillow under his jaw as he doesn't break eye contact with her. "Sorry Jerome woke you."

She shrugs. "It's morning."

Reaching out, he brushes her hair to the side again, gingerly sliding his knuckles down her cheek. "It's been rough this time around, hasn't it?"

"Yeah." Nataley doesn't attempt to deny it, and he appreciates that they can be authentic and honest with each other. Finally. "Similar to the end of our first time together only with greater intensity in a shorter period of time. So much shit being stirred up with Noah -- his father, him claiming you as his papa, and the roller coaster of us being together but not. Plus there's the money from Stevie --" Pausing, she examines his face closely, her eyes flitting across his features. "Does that bother you? That I accepted a loan from her?"

"No." His response is swift and decisive. "I know you would never accept money from me for anything related to Duane. That would create a different nightmare."

"Are you upset that I didn't talk to you about it first?"

"To be honest, Nat, I was surprised that you let Stevie worm it out of you so quickly. Usually you hold onto giant problems and let them fester. I suppose the time crunch had something to do with the timing?"

Annoyance flickers across her face, "What are you implying?"

"Nothing really. You and Stevie are mystically joined in ways I can't even fathom. You knew she would ask, and you knew she would offer. But if you hadn't been under the constraint of tomorrow approaching so fast, I wonder if you would have spilled your tale so soon."

Flopping onto her back, Nataley blows out a puff of air. "You make it sound calculating. But it wasn't like that."

Shit. She'd taken it the wrong way. He wasn't accusing her of anything other than being vulnerable earlier than she would have been in the past. "Of course not! I wasn't saying that you intentionally set up the situation."

"No?" Her eyes snap to him, even though her head doesn't move an inch. Her fear is etched in the lines of her forehead, and he's ever so grateful that she doesn't ascribe to the practice of injecting poison into her face to smooth the skin. He adores her beauty lines; she's earned every single one.

Taking a risk, he shifts to straddle this woman, only mildly worried that the power differential might shut her down. The love of his life excites and frustrates him in equal turns. Gazing down into her face, he smiles. "I don't think it was planned in any way, my love."

"Good. Cause I've just borrowed more than a million dollars from my fairy godmother, and I intend to pay her back every penny."

Once they are married, that will be easier, Harry contemplates, but doesn't say it. The timing is wrong for sure.

"How will you explain the custody change to your family?"

Her eyes slide from him, and he wonders what he's missed in those few seconds. Again, she shrugs. "What they don't know won't hurt them."

"Tell me you've at least got a lawyer lined up for Saturday," he presses.

"Of course!" Her offense causes him to wonder where she'd found a lawyer. Or which of his friends had helped. Her knees slide upwards to cradle him, and he accepts the invite, leaning backwards.

Reaching out with one hand, Nat traces the outline of his not-yet-awake cock through his pants. "If you want to keep talking about this..."

The insinuation is clear: stay on this path of conversation, and sex decidedly is not going to happen. As much as he wants to bury himself inside her, he needs to finish the conversation. To come to an agreement of some sort. To tie the discussion into a bow like the hoodie strings. Not that she ever lets him tie those either.

"Let's talk stalker for a minute."

Defeated, her hand falls to her side, and his cock wilts in anger at his own pursuit of the conversation. Calm down, mate. He draws in a deep breath. Does he desire an opportunity to make love to her right now? Yes. A thousand times yes. But his priority is not the immediate future. It's the long-term future.

"What do we have to discuss? I said I would accept a bodyguard for a month." She pouts, her bottom lip protruding like Noah's when he thinks he's going to get his way. To be fair, the kid usually is triumphant.

"Not what I meant, Nat." He slides his upper body over hers before slipping to one side where he can observe her. His hand sneaks under the hoodie, the palm resting on her belly just above her navel. Not moving it seductively or in indication of anything other than support, he waits her out.

"How bad was the panic attack?"

"You witnessed it, Harry."

"In the car, yes. But I mean when you first found out." He pauses. "How did you find out? Who told you?"

The silence settles in the bedroom, and Harry becomes aware that Chuck is still snoring on the rug. Thank goodness. The old dog has a tiny bladder these days, and he will need to go outside as soon as he awakens.

"I guess Ben told the police about the restraining order, and they wanted to talk to me."

"Ben came to get you?" His fist starts to clench on her tummy until she places her hand over his through the sweatshirt material.

"I'm fine, Harry." Her touch and tone are both reassuring, but it still frightens him to know he wasn't at her side during the event. "Ben sent a production assistant to get me."

He growls, "I don't ever want you to have to deal with this stuff alone."

"I wasn't alone, H. Ben and Jeffrey and Glenne were there."

Blinking, he recognizes the truth of her words. His friends had filled in for him when he'd been unavailable.

"Did you have to see her?"

"No. Four officers responded, and two of them took her outside before I was brought into the mix."

"Did she threaten you?"

"Directly? No. I didn't see her at all, so there's no way she could have."

"Indirectly?"

"H --" she swallows, and he sees the pain cross her face, "Her existence is a constant threat to me. I hate that she's stolen my sense of safety."

"Yeah." His voice is barely audible, and he doesn't know whether to respond to her words or her emotion. "What was the panic attack like?"

"I told you, Harry. You witnessed it."

"Wait. That was the whole panic attack?"

Biting her lip, she nods, and he feels a mixture of relief and pride. Holy shit. A huge decrease from her usual panic attack. But maybe she's overwhelmed and hasn't fully experienced the trauma?

"Let's catalog everything, shall we?" He holds up a finger for each point he makes. "I'm back in your life. Your son is calling me Papa. Noah doesn't want to spend time with his dad anymore. Noah's dad offered to essentially sell custody to you. Stevie loaned you the money to buy Noah from his father." Those are all five fingers on that one hand, and Harry begins counting the fingers on his second hand one at a time. "I'm trying a new format on a show that isn't mine. You're considering a career change. Our stalker is back. We've moved into a friend's house to keep hidden. And you've agreed to try a bodyguard."

"Shit, H. When you put it like that, it sounds like we're a disaster together."

He surveys his ten fingers, each one an indicator of a challenge that has risen in the last six days. Six fucking days. So much drama. When his face dissolves into laughter, Nat stares at him like he's lost his mind. Sitting up in bed, she crosses her arms, pouting. As his giggles continue, she smacks at him. "What's so fucking funny, you comedian?"

"Two years ago, you would have been out of the door on item three."

Eyes widening, she smacks at his hands before bursting into her own guffaw. He can tell she can't catch her breath as she doubles over and tears stream down her cheeks. Chuck's collar jangles as he circles around on the floor below them before taking a flying leap onto the bed, licking Nataley's face.

"I'm fine, Prince Charles," Harry's girl laughs. "Just can't..."

"Can't what?"

"Can't love you more." Framing his face with her hands, she kisses him, and Harry reciprocates even as Chuck licks at both of them before sitting nervously on his haunches while he whines.

Her words give him hope that the exquisite vintage engagement ring he'd bought will be accepted at some point in the future. And hopefully that future isn't quite as distant as he feared.

"You realize that two years ago, you would have become exasperated with me and told me to basically 'deal'?" She asks, and his eyes become damp. The reality of her words smacks him in the heart with enough force to knock anyone sideways.

"Is this what's called 'growth'?" He wonders. "Maybe we aren't doomed after all, Nat."

Nonchalantly, she glances at her nails, pretending she hadn't heard the entire pronouncement. "Don't count your chickens, H. What time are the bodyguard interviews?"

"One o'clock. Do you want breakfast?"

"Yep," she grins, and her hand wanders to the front of his pants as she renews her earlier advances on his cock, making it clear what kind of meal she has in mind.

Oh. He follows her movements by shifting on the bed. "Fuck. Me too. But let me take Chuck out first."

"Just open the door. He'll be happy enough," Nat grins.

Without grumbling, Harry springs from the bed and into the kitchen, opening the back door and encouraging the dog to "go piss" before returning to the bedroom to find his hoodie on the floor, the strings still untied.

"Hmmmm," he smirks, observing Nataley under the covers with only her bare shoulders revealed.

"Come here, big boy," she seductively mutters, patting the bed next to her. When he climbs under the covers, she hands him a sleep mask. "Put it on."

Fuck. This is going to be interesting. Sliding the cloth over his eyes, he lies down, noticing quickly that there's a gap in the cloth where he can see a tiny sliver of light. Twitching his nose, he manages to maneuver the cloth to the side a fraction further so that he can see more of her as she kneels beside his hips. Straddling him, she shakes a finger.

"No, sir. Let me tighten that a bit." Reaching behind his head, she adjusts the slider so that the soft material is more secure over his eyes. "How many fingers?" she asks.

"Six," he grins playfully because he truly can't see her, plunging him into a sensory experience.

"Mhm. You know that if you can see you're the one who misses out," she chides.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good." With those words, he feels her throw the covers off the two of them just before her body shifts and her weight lifts off the bed. Hearing the bedroom door close, he's relieved that Chuck can't interrupt them.

When her body returns to the bed, he smiles, shifting his hips in anticipation. Would she ride him cowgirl or reverse? Her short, manicured nails trace a path across his chest as she nudges aside the duvet and top sheet, and he shivers with suspense. Nataley returns to his body before there's a long pause, and he wonders what she's doing, but even scrunching his nose doesn't dislodge the cloth, and he gasps as she settles between his legs and he shifts them to the side. When her fingernails scrape up and down his thighs, his cock tightens along with his abdomen. Fuck. This was better than Pilates for training his abs.

"Does that feel good, H?" she whispers.

"Mhm" is all he can manage.

Peeling his underpants down his legs and off, Nataley shifts on the bed, and he wonders what she's doing. His body jerks when her lips wrap around his balls, pressing gentle kisses there as she casually suckles the skin into her mouth.

"Fuck..." he groans. Sliding forward so that her tit rests on his thigh, she licks his cock from the base to the top before withdrawing and peppering his skin with light pecks of her lips. He can feel her pebbled nipple brushing his scrotum. With her hand wrapped around his base, she slides his penis into her mouth, sucking the end as her fingers encircle the rest of him. Oh shit. His hips buck though he tries to control the movement.

Her mouth settles only on his tip as her hand works in tandem, and it feels like she's fully engulfing him. His hand reaches for her, and she grips it with her free hand, her fingers entwining with his. His legs fall further apart to give her more access, and he feels her body relocate so that she's kneeling between his legs, her hand moving on his cock carefully before she returns her mouth to the head, and he feels her entire body bobbing as she maintains the pressure of lips and suction, her fingers gliding along his cock in partnership.

"Mmmmm," she moans as her mouth moves away, leaving only her hand gliding at a quick pace.

His groans are ongoing, and he cannot seem to form thoughts or words. He visualizes her cheeks hollowing out as she returns to applying suction to the tip while her hand maintains its steady pressure and rhythm. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Nataley's grip changes, her fingers tightening more, and he can't help the way his legs fall further apart.

"I'm gonna come in your mouth," he moans. "You okay with that?"

"Mhm."

Returning to her efforts, she moves in opposite directions now, sliding her hand down as her mouth moves up, and Harry gasps.

"Ahhh. Fuck."

His fingers reach for the blindfold, and Nataley pops his cock from her mouth as she cautions, "Nope. Leave it."

Reluctantly, he obeys as he feels her glide her finger around the rim of his arse. His legs are quivering as she uses her other hand to tickle his balls while that first finger tickles his arsehole.

Breath quickening, he sighs, "Oh, yeah. Ahhh....keep going, love." The sound of her mouth on him lifts his hips from the bed, "Oh, that feels so good." With a grunt, he feels himself shooting his wad into her mouth, and Nataley sucks it down, swallowing as she continues to siphon the droplets from him.

His hand rips the blindfold off, and he leans forward, wrapping a hand around her neck as he yanks her mouth to his, their breaths mingling.

"I adore you, Nataley Zwinger."

"I know, Harry Styles."

"We will figure this out," he promises, and for the first time, it doesn't feel empty.