Bad Girl- by Girls Love Shoes

Harry’s cries filled the room before he collapsed, exhausted and spent and then the only sound was our heavy and laboured breaths.

Round three was definitely been unexpected, both of us thinking we had nothing left to give. I had been attempting to leave, but a kiss on the cheek turned into being carried back into the bedroom and all my clothes, once more, ending up on the floor.

“I should go”, I whispered absentmindedly. We lay in silence, Harry limp but still buried inside me.

He placed soft, feathery kisses along my collarbone while I ran my finger up and down his back, which was clammy with perspiration. It was an oddly intimate moment for two people who’d never sleep together again.

“Can’t you stay?” Tilting his head up and turned his green eyes on me, Harry looked sleepy and satisfied, his hair dishevelled and sticking up at all angles. He’d gone back to looking boyish and too young for me, cheeks red and lips puffy from my biting them harder than I meant to.

“I would if I could”, I sighed, and moved to untangle myself from him before I threw caution to the wind and decided to stay. “I need to go or we’re both going to fall asleep”.

On cue Harry’d yawned and rubbed his eyes sleepily. He slid off of me reluctantly and threw on a pair of jogging bottoms whilst I dressed for the second time.

"Is he going to be home?” Harry asked, voice quiet at mentioning Will, like I was being given the opportunity to pretend I didn’t hear the question. I debated ignoring it but Will was real and the innocent party so, as much as I wanted to pretend he didn’t exist while I was with Harry, he did and we had to acknowledge that.

“I’m not sure, he might be working late,” I shrugged, focusing on straightening my stockings, “he might have messaged me.”

Harry nodded, looking like he had a million other questions but he bit them back and, once again, walked me to the door.

The house was dark and empty when I got home, Will had left a voice mail saying he’d be home later and I was glad. Stripping off as soon as the front door was closed, I headed upstairs to take a long, hot bath, leaving my clothes strewn on the floor in the hallway to be dealt with later.

Climbing into the clawfoot tub, I caught my reflection in the mirror, I had “dirty sex” written all over me, my hair was all over the place and my make up was smudged and smeared. Harry’s touch was everywhere on me and I couldn’t deny how much I loved it.

The hot water on my skin eased my tired and aching muscles, between my legs I felt sore and sensitive to every movement. In terms of having sex I’d gone zero to sixty in one night and my body was worn and exhausted but, despite the guilt, I couldn’t deny how great I felt, like after having a good workout at the gym.

As I considered getting out of the tub, I noticed something on my left breast. My breath hitched when I realised it was a bite mark, a small, red, mouth shaped indent on my pale skin. It was faint, but I knew what it was and who had left it. I was exhausted but, there was a tingle between my thighs knowing Harry had left me a reminder of our evening. I slid down the tub so only above my nose sat above the water and let my mind wander to what might have happened had I stayed the night.

Will didn’t notice a thing. He asked how my evening was then fell asleep not even listening to my answer. I, on the other hand, struggled to switch my over active brain off. I’d been in a rosy, post orgasmic glow when I’d gotten home, but Will’s presence beside me brought me back to reality with a bump.

I didn’t regret what I’d done because I’d wanted it to happen but that didn’t stop the guilt. I wondered if I’d see him again, whether I’d even hear from him. I doubted it and that was fine. We’d had a fun evening and that was more than I’d had in a long time.

It had been unspoken when we said goodbye; I didn’t ask and he didn’t either, which I thought was telling. It was hard what to make of our goodbye, his whole body pressing me against the door while he kissed me and buried his fingers in my hair, describing what he wanted to do to me if I stayed for round four. It wasn’t how I normally said goodbye, that’s for sure. I’d had to wriggle free of his grip, fearful that I would drop my panties then and there demanding he fucked me against the door.

Eventually, after hours of imagining what we would have been doing at that moment had I not left, I drifted off into slumber where my dreams were filled with curls, tattoos, and hotel cotton sheets.

Days and then weeks past and I heard nothing from him.

I expected some contact but there was none at all. Not a single text. I kept my pride and didn’t contact him either but I couldn’t deny the sting I felt.

The regret started to outweigh and positive feelings if had about sleeping with Harry, I no longer felt like I’d been a woman in charge and empowered by going after something she wanted, I felt like an aged slut who’d become doe eyed over a 19 year old pop star.

“Rose, I need to tell you something.” Rose raised an eyebrow but continued to eat her ice cream as we continued our walk through Hyde Park. “Please don’t judge me or hate me.”

This stopped her dead in her tracks, ice cream forgotten.

“What?” She was worried, she’d been worried for weeks but hadn’t said anything.

“Oh god, it’s so bad!” Covering my face with my hands, fingers still sticky from my own ice cream that I hadn’t even eaten, the words finally left my mouth in a whisper so no passer by would hear, “I slept with Harry Styles.”

Rose blinked at me, her face blank and I wondered if she was broken, that what I had had said had been so left field that she couldn’t compute it. Without a word she grabbed my hand and dragged me along the path, “where are we going?”

“I need a bloody drink!”

Notes