I Just Want You

We flew to Indianapolis separately: Harry in a private jet and me chill-axing in first class on a commercial flight. He seemed petrified that I’d take offense to that, but it didn’t bother me in the least. I’d rest my vagina for a couple hours. No big deal.

He was an insatiable, dirty boy. I pretty much loved it.

My flight got in second, and since my back pack was just a sweet carryon I just strolled off the flight and made my way to the baggage claim. I’d dressed in my new gray skinny jeans and the long sleeved (well, actually three quarter length but whatev) pink shirt. The shirt was weird: fitted from basically my boobs down, but with a loose scoop neck line and sleeves. Keeping the sleeves from sliding down my shoulders was suddenly a part time job. I guess that’s what you get when you shop like you’re racing the clock for a gold medal.

Some dude named Mark from the guys security team was supposed to pick me up, since Harry had to race to the stadium in time for sound check. I wasn’t entirely sure how I was going to find said security guy, but I figured I stuck out like a sore thumb with my tattoos and hair. He was prompt though—damn prompt—and rolled up in a tinted window, black, four wheel drive beast of an SUV. “Kenzie?”

I raised my eyebrows casually. “Mark?”

“We’re destined to meet.” He cocked his head towards the door. “I know this guy who wants to see you. Desperately.”

I basically gave the finger to everything I’d ever learned about getting in cars with strangers and just hopped right in. Mark took my back pack and set it in the back seat. He then stuck his hand out to me, warmly shaking my hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mackenzie. Harry hasn’t stopped talking about you since he got back for sound check.”

“I’ve known him a long time, actually. We grew up together.”

“I’m sure that’s not why he’s talking about you now.” He picked up his cell phone and pressed a button, speaking into it. “I’ve got her; on our way back.”

By the time we got to the stadium, I felt like Mark and I were old friends. We discussed absolutely nothing of relevancy: I entertained him with stories of sheer awkwardness in first class and my uncanny ability to break out into song at random and inappropriate times. He admitted Niall shaved off his eyebrows once when he was napping on the tour bus. I told him how much dirty limericks made me laugh. Good times. He slowed the SUV to a stop at a back area of the stadium, firing off a fast text. “Do you need anything in your bag for today? Or do you just want to leave it in the car and take it to the hotel later?”

“I think I’m good? Do I need anything?” I shrugged. “You’d think that I, as a girl, would know how to properly pack a purse, but I’ve got my phone, my inhaler, and like, seventy-eight cents in here.”

He chuckled and nodded to a closed door, handing me a lanyard with a picture of the boys on it, as well as extremely bold letters reading: One Direction OTRA Tour and under that: VIP/Family (Harry Styles).

Awww, I’m family.

I tugged the lanyard over my head and then pulled my hair loose from the cord. Slinging my purse over my shoulder, I slowly walked to the door and…

…Stood there.

Doors sure were perplexing these days.

Well, it was closed. So, without any real, decent plan in mind, the SUV gone, and the feeling like I needed to get inside or like, zombies or rabid fans were going to rip me into Harry Styles DNA covered shreds, I knocked.

And it opened.

Just like these things normally work.

And then, gloriously, I was promptly face to face with Harry Styles. He was carrying a bottle of water in one hand and held the door open for me with the other, grinning at me so broadly I could see his gum clamped between his molars. He was so sexy and absolutely adorable that I couldn’t hold back my own grin. If I’d had any fears that he wasn’t excited to see me, they melted away instantly.

Once I was in the crazy bright hallway and the door was firmly closed, he swept me up against the wall and kissed me. “’Ello, beautiful.”

“Hey sexy.” I pursed my lips together and smiled coyly at him. “Did you miss me?”

“Only every inch of you.” His eyes dropped down to my chest; he trailed one finger down my collarbone and between my breasts, tugging the shirt downward. “You’re staying with me tonight, right? I need you, Little One. I wanna taste you again.”

“Hell yeah, I’ll stay.” I took on my tip toes and pressed my lips to his. “I kind of dig hanging out with you, Hazza.”

He slid his hands into my back pockets and pulled me against him. “Good. Come on, I want to show you the stage.”

“Sweet.”

He slid his hand down my arm, lacing his fingers around mine, and led me down several halls and then up a short flight of stairs. We walked around one corner and then—boom—we emerged out on the stage. It was amazing: the thousands of stadium seats looked like a sheet of solid blue. Everything was neat and tidy, the chairs on the floor section set up in equal distances from each other. It was pretty sweet.

“Wow,” I ran my fingers through my hair, my lips curling up into a grin. Within a couple hours, he’d be bouncing and skipping across this front section of stage and then down the central aisle. “It looks…intimidating from up here.”

He chuckled. “I don’t throw up before shows anymore, so there’s that at least. That’s why I had to move you closer to the stage, Little One. I had to be able to see you.”

“You’d have never seen me from our original seats, it’s true.”

He pulled me down the central aisle of the stage, wrapping his arms around my waist and nuzzling his face against my neck. Out of nowhere, he started singing in my ear; his voice was raspy and insanely sexy. “I have loved you since we were eighteen…long before we both thought the same thing. To be loved and to be in love…all I can do is say that these arms were made for holding you…I wanna love like you made me feel…when we were eighteen.”

Yeah, it was just him singing one of their songs, but the way he sang ‘love’ in my ear and the way he held me….Jesus. My body felt like it was tingling; my heart suddenly racing like it did when he kissed me. He had to have known what he was doing to me; he had to know the way he made me feel. He was just playing it coy. Cool.

This didn’t have to be love, this could just be us having a good time and having sex and just enjoying time together. I mean, it wasn’t always just sex, we talked and laughed and had a fantastic time together. We built a boat out of coffee stirrers and tried to sail it in the bathtub the previous night, for god sakes. It wasn’t just physical. He was still my best friend.

“Kenzie.”

“Yes.” I realized he’d stopped singing and was just holding me against him, his arms wrapped around my waist. “I was…er…my mind was wandering. I’ll be honest.”

He tilted my chin up and looked into my eyes, almost as if he was trying to read how I was feeling judged on how I looked. “I don’t want you to leave me, Little One. I want you to stay…and the fact you can’t breaks my heart.”

“Awww, don’t make me feel bad. You know I want to stay.” I reached up and tucked a stray curl behind his ear. “I want to stay with you, Hazza, but I have to work. My book is full for tomorrow night and, I’m off Sunday and Monday, but then Tuesday and Wednesday I’ll be tattooing from like, noon until midnight.”

He was quiet for a moment. The silence in the stadium was deafening; we were the only people in an area that held more than forty thousand people. I felt small, small because of the stadium and small in his arms. And, I felt devastated that I had to leave him the following day. It broke my heart—but I was still trying to play it cool.

Finally, after several minutes of staring into my eyes, he said, “What…ehm…what do you want to happen? Between us, I mean.”

“Well….what do you want to have happen?”

“I asked you first.”

I laughed, sliding my hands down his chest and then around him to hold him as tight as he held me. “Well….I’ll be honest. Because of all the people in the world, you’re one of the few I can be completely honest with. And…um…I just…I really want to be with you, Hazza. I want to see what happens between us. Because what we’ve had so far? It’s been incredible.”

He burst into a broad smile, his dimple looking deeper than normal. “Me too. I’m completely addicted to you, Kenzie. You…you’re everything to me. I know it’s fast, I do, but…Kenz…I’m falling in love with you.”

My heart either stopped completely or began pounding so fast that I couldn’t feel it anymore.

He started laughing and dipped me backwards, peppering my throat with gentle kisses. “Why do you look surprised, Little One? You have to have known.”

“Well, I mean, I was hoping so, Hazza, because I’m crazy about you.” When he righted me, I slid my hand to his cheek and cradled his face. “And in love too. Honestly, I don’t care if it’s fast. It feels right. And you know me well enough to know if it feels right, I’m all about doing it.”

“I’m a massive fan of that, baby girl, you know that.” He pulled me close and crushed his mouth to mine, cradling my body in his strong arms. When the kiss broke, his eyes looked somewhat…sad. “Sweet love, there’s just one thing…”

I pressed my index finger to his lips. “I know the drill, Hazza. And you know me.”

“I do.” His lips pursed into a smile and he hugged me tightly. “That’s why I love you, Kenzie.”

I felt my cheeks heat up. Those words in such sexy, raspy, succession made time literally stop around me. I love you. He’d said it. And this wasn’t like when we were kids, with the flippant “Love ya Haz.” “Love ya, Kenz.” This was coming from his soul. “And I love you, Hazza.”

He kissed me again; it instantly deepened and then—right in the middle of a deserted stadium—he slid his hands under my thighs and picked me up. I wrapped my legs around him; tangling my fingers through his curls. When the kiss ended, we kept our faces close together. He nuzzled against me. “When can I see you again?”

“Where are you at after here?”

“Pittsburgh.”

“Mmmm….that’s like, six hours or so by car. I don’t…actually have a car, though.”

“We’re there on Sunday. I’ll fly you in, private jet; I swear.” He kissed me again, trailing his lips down my throat to the curve of my shoulder. “Just promise me you’ll meet me there and stay with me.”

I couldn’t resist him. He could have said, hey, by the way Kenz, you need to fly to Sweden tonight so we can hang out and I’ve been like, sign me up. “I will, Hazza.”

He exhaled deeply and smiled, his whole face lighting up from his dimples to his beautiful green eyes. “You have no idea how happy that makes me.”

“Hopefully as happy as it makes me.” I twirled the curly ends of his hair around my fingertips and then pressed my forehead to his. “You’re my favorite addiction.”

He started kissing my throat, dipping his head down to my collarbones and slowly sliding lower. “And you’re mine…all of you…starting right about here…”

We heard voices backstage, the sound of two people talking and rapidly getting closer to us. Harry eased me down his body until my feet were on the floor and then grabbed my hand. Lacing his fingers around mine, he turned into Speed Racer and starting hustling back down the center aisle and to the main stage. We ran past two very startled looking tech guys. Harry was laughing, his grin broad. “We were just leaving—sorry.”

Together we ran back down the hallways, his hand firmly around mine, like someone was chasing us. They weren’t. But he was laughing, pulling me close to him and then walking backwards, crushing his lips to mine as best he could while we walked and ran and stumbled through the maze of corridors and halls in the stadium. He stopped in front of a door, quickly running his hands through his hair, and pushed it open. “Hey, lads, look who I found outside.”

Liam slowed as he passed us, leaning over and kissing my cheek. “Oy, if it isn’t sassy Miss Kenzie.”

“Excuse me, Liam.” Harry’s brow furrowed into a deep frown, which made him simultaneously intense and insanely sexy. “She’s not available.”

“Ooooooo, Harreh,” sassy, blue eyed Louis walked past Harry and messed up his hair, “sounds like someone hooked up over the weekend.”

“Hey.” He frowned again and then smirked. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

Louis switched his intense gaze to me. “What about you, gorgeous?”

“Sorry, dude,” I shrugged noncommittally, “The only salacious gossip I know are about the drag queens down at Olive or Twist on 18th Street in Brooklyn. Also, I have information on which nail establishment on New York Avenue has girls who don’t wash their hands after using the toilet.”

“That’s disgusting.” Liam wrinkled up his nose. “How do’ya know that?”

“I know some queens who are real bitches, but they’re in the know.” I sat down on the couch next to Harry. It apparently wasn’t close enough for his taste, as he slid his arm around my hips and pulled me against him. “Wait, is nobody celebrating how awesome the name ‘Olive or Twist’ is? Come on. Oliver Twist? I’m the only one who finds it hilarious?”

Louis looked like he was contemplating the question. “Honestly, love? I’d rather hear about the weekend you and Harry had together. Jetting off to spend days and days alone together? However did you spend your time?”

“Harry slept a lot.” I idly traced my fingers over the ripped areas on his jeans. “Let’s see, I had a hot stone massage which was really awesome. I had some weird hair treatment that I initially found to be questionable, but my hair still looks pretty damn glamorous.”

Harry slid his fingertips down my arm. “You beat me at Scrabble.”

“You let me win.” I leaned over and nudged him with my shoulder. “I still refuse to accept ‘ti’ as a word.”

“It can be a proper name.”

“No, no—the rules explicitly state no proper names.”

He widened his eyes dramatically. “I thought you said we were breaking all the rules.”

“You’re right. I got in that ‘RiverBath’ thing without showering first. There was a sign and everything…I was just so, so, excited.”

Liam sat down on the opposite side of me, holding a paper plate of fried rice, noodles, and dumplings. “So, did you two do it or what? We’re all friends here. You can tell us.”

Harry and I exchanged a glance; I grinned at him with as much sweetness and innocence as I could muster. He started chuckling, smiling at me with a broad, lopsided grin that was so damn infectious. I wanted to nuzzle my face against his, to cuddle up against him and just breathe. Just smell that sexy, musky smell of his. Cologne? Deodorant? I didn’t care. I was just going to associate whatever that smell was with him. And sex.

“Yeah, they totally fucked.” Louis leaned over and stole a dumpling from Liam’s plate. “Ohh, that’s quite good. Did you get the chicken or the beef?”

“Sure, Louis, help yourself to my dinner. That’s fine.”

“Don’t change the subject,” Louis wiped his hands on his jeans, “we’re still waiting for Harry and Kenzie to tell us all about their sordid time together. Ten years of pent up hormones, am I right?”

Harry leaned forward, flipping his hair down over his face and then straightening; brushing his hair back from his face. He laughed again, pulling me close. “It was…just between us.”

I ran my tongue across my bottom lip and then gently nibbled on the tender flesh—that always turned him on. “Exactly. Right between…us.”

He smirked, leaning towards me and pressing his lips to the side of my mouth.

“God.” Louis sprawled out across the couch across from us and shook his head. “The way she looks at him? I feel as if that look is x-rated, Liam, look at that. It must have been incredible.”

“Ten years of pent up hormones, like you said, man.” Liam set the plate down on the floor and picked up a bottle of water. “Kenzie, love, how about we just play a game of ‘Never Have I Ever.’ Here, I’ll start: Never Have I Ever bedded Harry Styles twice in one day.”

“I’ll entertain you with hilarious stories of shit I’ve done over the years, like the time I got so high at a party that I stole a doorknob because I thought it was a muffin. Or how I threw up right after I got my septum pierced. Or, how, two weeks ago when my roommate and I got drunk, we played a Friends drinking game and got so drunk, we tried to open a can of beef ravioli with a hammer and a screwdriver. I will not,” I paused for added effect, “tell you what happened between me and Harry.”

Louis seemed to consider this. “Is your roommate hot?”

“If you’re attracted to drag queens, sure. Rob’s hot. I mean, Rob as Rob is attractive. Rob as Trixie is gorgeous.” I turned to Harry. “That fucking bitch wears a corset in her show and has a waist smaller than mine. I told her that she does it just to piss me off. She agreed. But, damn, her eyebrow game? Rob is a fucking genius. He always says, ‘Eyebrow gap is so much more important than thigh gap.’”

“Did you just refer to him as both he and she in the same sentence?” Liam picked up his plate and spooned rice into his mouth. “Doesn’t that get confusing?”

“Not really.” I shrugged. “Though, the first time I let him do my Brazilian wax, I made him dress like Trixie because, let’s be honest, it was awkward. It’s awkward for all parties involved.”

Harry leaned close to me again, gently nibbling the top of my shoulder. “I owe him one. Because that….that is absolutely incredible…”

“What was that, Harry?” Liam tried to look around me. “What’s incredible?”

Harry was still grinning at me. Then, without saying a word, he grabbed my hands and pulled me away from the other boys. He led me down a hallway, taking a sharp turn into a room. It looked like an office or something that had been converted into a makeup/hair/dressing room…thing. He kicked the door closed behind him and flipped the lock into place. “I love you.”

I grinned. “I love you too, Hazza.”

“I want to keep telling you.” He grabbed me around the waist and swept me up against the wall, pinning me in place with his hip. Dipping his head down, trailed his lips down my throat. “And I love hearing you say it back. When I fuck you tonight…I want you to scream it.”

“You know how I like it, Hazza.” I sighed in my throat, ending up in a soft giggle as his mouth tickled the hollow of my throat. “Actually…kind of like that. I’m digging that.”

“I know.” He thrusted his hips against me; the angle of his body hit mine at just the right spot. I could feel the bulge in his tight jeans and, no doubt, if he’d asked me to take my clothes of at that second, I would have. “I know what my girl likes.”

He moved his lips to my mouth, crushing his mouth against me. His hands slid under my shirt, caressing my skin with gentle touches and working upwards to my breasts. Pushing my bra upwards, he cupped his hands over them for a split second before yanking my shirt up and dipping his head down. I felt his warm mouth cover my nipple and he started sucking, nibbling gently with his teeth. His other hand worked over my other breast, lightly pinching and rolling my nipple, and then dropped down to the buttons of my jeans.

Someone knocked on the door. Without waiting for us to respond, a deep, Irish accented voice said, “No sex in the dressing room, Harreh.”

“We’re not having sex in the dressing room, Niall.”

“Then what’cha doin’?” “

Just giving her a proper hello.” He kissed me deeply, moving his hands up to my cheeks and cradling my face. “Hello, baby girl.”

“Hello, Hazza.”

“There’s a lot to be said for ten years of pent up sexual frustration.” He trailed his kisses to my jaw. “I can’t get enough of you…and this fabulous little body….”

“My boobs aren’t little.”

“No, they’re absolutely perfect.” He cupped them again, but kept his mouth close to mine. “Let me just put it in for a second.”

“Hazza!” I widened my eyes at him, trying unsuccessfully to bite back a smile. “No.”

He thrusted his hips against me and ran his fingertips over my nipples. “But, baby, it would feel so good. And right before the show? Shit. That’s massively hot.”

I slid my hand over the bulge in his jeans, gently squeezing. His lips curled up into a smile; I touched my other hand to his cheek. “I don’t think you could just ‘stick it in.’ You’d have to finish.”

“There’s only one way to find out.”

We started kissing again; his hands dropped down to my jeans and he started unbuttoning the line of buttons. He worked them down my hips and then slid his hands into my panties, cupping my ass. “I’m not going to be able to wait until after the show.”

“Then fuck me.”

His lips against curled into a smile. He unzipped his jeans and tugged them down his legs, the muscles in his incredible thighs flexing as he yanked off his boots and jeans. I kicked off my flip flops and pulled my jeans off the rest of the way; the second they were off, he pulled me back into a passionate kiss. He shuffled me backwards and then pulled away, his eyes intense. Gently, he turned me around and started kissing my neck, breaking his kiss only long enough to pull my shirt over my head. “And you can even watch.”

He’d positioned me so that we were in front of the bulb bordered mirror. It was insanely erotic, watching him slide his hand down my stomach and between my thighs. He teased me with gentle touches, dipping his long fingers inside me. I bit my lip—it felt amazing.

I could see his eyes in the mirror, watching as he touched me. Our eyes met and he grinned broadly. Without saying anything, he bent me over the chair positioned in front of the mirror and, gripping my hips, slid inside me. My breath caught in my throat and I clamped my hand over my mouth. He felt incredible.

“I can just take it out now.” His voice was raspy, his breathing jagged as he made love to me. “Just to prove it is, in fact, possible.”

“No, you can keep going.”

He chuckled, running his hands down my back and squeezing my waist. “Shit, Kenzie, you feel amazing. I swear your body was made for mine.”

I was watching him in the mirror, his brow furrowed with intensity as he thrusted against me with his intoxicating rhythm. I bit my lip and sighed. Yes, yes this was a good idea. This was a fantastic idea. Pleasure was building in my low abdomen; his gentle exhales, his teasing touch, the angle he was touching me on the inside. It was intoxicating. “Fuck me harder, Hazza.”

“I can’t.” He gently smacked my ass. Hot. “You make me cum too fast, baby girl. It’s something about you…your body just takes me over the edge.”

We tried to stay as quiet as possible as we made love, but every now and then one of us moaned too loud and once I said ‘right there’ just waaaay louder than a whisper. The other guys no doubt totally knew we were fucking. There was something kind of hot about that too. Insanely hot.

“Sweet love…I’m not going to be able to last much longer.” In the mirror, I watched him push his hair back from his face. “You feel too good.”

“So do you.” My eyes fluttered shut, the pleasure still building between my legs. “I’m like, right there. Sooo close.”

He slid his hands down my shoulders and then tugged me upward. Sliding out of me, he turned me around and crushed his mouth to mine. Backing me up to the wall, he yanked his black tshirt over his head and then lifted me up, using his hand to position his cock against me. With a tilt of his hips, he slid inside me and went right back into his rhythm.

I bit my lip, sighing softly in my throat. “You have no idea how much willpower it’s taking me not to scream out your name.”

“Oh, Kenzie, that’s hot.” His brow furrowed; he looked so sexy with this intense, passionate frown.

Neither of us lasted much longer. He stared into my eyes, his forehead touching mine, and we climaxed together. His eyes squeezed shut as his orgasm ended and he held me tightly, pressing his lips to mine. “God, I love you.”

I nuzzled my face against his. “I love you, Hazza.”

We were silent for several moments, just looking at each other and letting our racing hearts slow to a normal cadence. As he gently lowered my legs to the ground, someone started pounding on the door. “Are you two finished fucking yet?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Sod off, Lou.”

“At least he can stop violently masturbating now, right? Thank God for that.”

I burst out laughing. “Violently?”

“It was a horrible rumor someone started on Twitter. My sister thought it was hilarious. It never happened, though.” He tucked my hair behind my ears and kissed me. “I hate social media with an intense passion.”

“I’m a big fan of your intense passion.”

He grinned and kissed me again. I was falling for him so fast and so hard. Sexually, yeah, I was all about that. He was incredible. But emotionally I was losing myself to him: suddenly, it wasn’t just fun and sex and just having a good time. I was falling in love with him.

Hopelessly, madly, intensely in love.

Notes