Summertime & Butterflies

“Can you just stop thinking about tomorrow?” Harry asked, chuckling as he reached across the backseat of the sedan to grab Olivia’s hand. She scowled in response, causing Harry to laugh again. “You’re kind of being a bit dramatic, love,” he added, squeezing her hand.

Olivia rolled her eyes, knowing she was being dramatic but not wanting to admit it. “You can’t just spring shit like that on me all willy-nilly and think I’m going to be cool with it,” Olivia hissed under her breath, though letting Harry keep a hold of her hand.

Harry laughed again. “Willy-nilly?” he repeated teasingly. “Are you eighty-seven years old?”

“By the time I forgive you, yes, I will be eighty-seven years old,” Olivia countered back, huffing out a sigh. Harry had convinced himself that Gemma and Olivia having a shopping trip together would be the end to the feud that had started between the two girls, but Olivia was far from convinced. So much so, she planned on getting herself annihilated on liquor the moment they stepped foot into Harry’s home, ensuring she would be too hungover the next day to go anywhere with Gemma.

“Oh, come off it,” Harry laughed. “You’ll have fun. You two can bond over shit-talking me. I’m sure my adorable quirks have irritated the both of you on a regular basis,” he told Olivia, pulling her hand towards his mouth and pressing his lips against her knuckles.

“Why are you so entertained by this idea?” Olivia asked, giving Harry’s cheek a gentle swat with her kissed hand. “I know exactly how tomorrow is going to go. Gemma isn’t going to say a single word to me, save for insulting any dress I try on, and then she’s going to scoff and roll her eyes as soon as I use your credit card to pay for my dress! It’s all the things she doesn’t like about me just… rolled into one stupid event!”

Harry rolled his eyes at Olivia’s hysteria. “You’re being ridiculous,” he told her. “Everyone else thought it was a good idea,” he reminded Olivia. While still on the plane, Harry told Glenne, Jeff and Anne about his big plan for the two girls to shop together and bond. While they told Harry it was a good idea, Olivia could easily read Anne and Glenne’s faces, and neither of them appeared to agree with Harry.

“Sure…” Olivia answered, mimicking Harry’s eye roll. After the shopping bombshell was dropped, Olivia was furious, but she tried not to let it ruin the remainder of the flight. There were too many hours between Harry’s Great Idea and Heathrow Airport to have unnecessary tension on the plane. She continued to cuddle with Harry, laugh with him and hold his hand. But the moment the plane landed and the two of them climbed into a sleek town car waiting to take them to Harry’s home in Hampstead Heath, Olivia laid into him. He was divinely handsome and incredibly sweet, but he was certainly stupid.

“They did!” Harry protested. “Because it is a good idea!”

Olivia sighed. “Well… it’s absolutely not, but…” She shrugged her shoulders in Harry’s direction. “I like how you’re trying, anyway… I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” she added, holding a finger up to Harry’s face, “but that’s not me saying you’re right. It’s just me tabling this stupid conversation.”

Harry flashed Olivia a wide grin. “Whatever you say, sweetheart,” he cooed, slinging his arm across Olivia’s shoulders. “But you’re going to have fun, and then I’ll be waiting to hear those two lovely words…”

“Fuck off?” Olivia asked innocently, shooting Harry a cheeky smile.

Harry snorted. “More like fuck me,” he whispered into her ear, causing goosebumps to cover Olivia’s arms and a tingle run through her stomach. Their love life had been a bit lackluster since Harry’s accident and Olivia was feeling the heat – both from Harry and her loins. But Harry’s leg was healing well and his doctor assured Harry and Olivia that copulation was perfectly fine – a fact Harry wouldn’t let Olivia forget. She hated seeing his injury equipment at the Los Angeles house, and found them to be a massive turn off, but with the absence of them in the London home, Olivia was certain she’d have no trouble getting frisky with her hot boyfriend.

“Oh… I will…” Olivia whispered back, letting her hand trail lightly up Harry’s thigh. She felt him inhale sharply at her touch, causing Olivia to smirk coyly. “What?” she whispered teasingly, letting her hand rest against his growing bulge.

Harry quickly glanced towards the driver, an elderly Middle-Eastern man who didn’t seem to speak any English. “Fuck… don’t…” he hissed quietly, though instinctively thrusting his hips towards Olivia’s hand as she pressed her palm down against him.

“I think you like it,” Olivia whispered back, massaging her fingers gently against his budding erection. She unfastened her seatbelt before sliding into the middle seat, keeping her fingers lightly against Harry’s groin. She flickered her lips softly against his collarbone, inciting a guttural groan from him.

“Ugh… yeah…” Harry muttered as he reached around Olivia’s torso, finding her breast. “Jesus, you’re an ass,” he sighed as he kneaded his fingers against Olivia’s bosom. “I can’t wait to get you home… get you out of this shirt…” He emphasized his comment by sneaking his hand under the hem of her shirt, dancing his fingers along Olivia’s bare skin.

“I can’t wait to get you out of these pants,” Olivia countered, teasingly tugging on Harry’s belt buckle. “Why do you live so far away from the airport?” she wondered, gently nibbling on Harry’s earlobe. “I just want you to fuck me.”

Harry grunted at her choice of words, his grip tightening on her breast. “Get on, right now,” he demanded, pulling Olivia closer to him in an only slightly teasing manner. When Olivia laughed in response, Harry tugged harder. “Come on honey… I’ll be done before the next lights,” he added, jerking his hips against Olivia’s hand.

“Mmm… keep talking, just like that. I’m so turned on,” Olivia quipped in jest, pressing soft kisses against Harry’s jawline before settling on his lips. Hungrily, she devoured his mouth, grasping the back of his neck as she kept him close to her. Chills crept up her spine as Harry reciprocated her kiss, sucking gently on her lower lip.

“I love when you do that,” Olivia whispered against Harry’s lips, wishing the driver could find the gas pedal. “You get me all tingly.”

“You get me all tingly, too,” Harry replied. “And hard as fuck,” he added in a low voice, covering Olivia’s hand with his own and pressing down against his crotch to affirm his comment.

“You wake up hard as fuck,” Olivia reminded him, gently biting down on Harry’s lip.

Harry snickered, caressing Olivia’s breast. “Only cause I wake up next to you, sweetheart,” he cooed charmingly, trailing his finger along the outline of her bra. “Why are you wearing this thing, anyway?” he wondered, tugging on the strap. “Remember when you showed up at my house… and you weren’t wearing it? Cause you fucked yourself on the plane?” He let out a low groan at the memory. “God, that would have been so hot to see…”

“Well, if you’re a good boy, maybe I’ll let you watch the sequel,” Olivia told him, the thought of pleasuring herself while Harry watched turning her on immensely.

“Jesus Christ…” Harry breathed out, clearly the thought having the same effect on him. His hand ventured further up her shirt, searching frantically for her nipple. “I need you fucking now.”

While backseat blowjobs weren’t exactly unchartered territory for Olivia – slutty college days plus dorm roommates equalled five years of material for Taxi Cab Confessions – she knew getting her famous boyfriend off in the back of a rental car wasn’t something his publicist would be keen on.

Still, it would be ridiculously hot.

She glanced towards the front seat, where the driver was intently focused on the road, his hands appropriately placed on the ten and two positions. She wondered if he would even noticed if she unzipped Harry’s pants, ducked her head and engulfed his splendid manhood with her hungry mouth.

“Shit, hon…” Harry groaned, Olivia’s thoughts causing her to inadvertently tug on Harry’s zipper. “Are you really gonna?”

Olivia blew out a sigh, Harry’s question snapping her back to reality. “I would totally suck your dick right now if I didn’t think he might kind of enjoy it,” Olivia whispered, jerking a thumb in the direction of the driver. As if on cue, the driver glanced in the rear-view mirror, briefly meeting Olivia’s eyes.

“Shit!” she cussed, turning her head to the side, her face heating up. “Do you think he knows what we’re doing, and where our hands are?!” She quickly moved her hand from Harry’s hard-on before clasping her hands in her lap in an attempt to regain her dignity.

Harry laughed. “Probably,” he answered with a dismissive shrug. “Kind of smells like sex in here,” he added teasingly, pinching Olivia’s nipple. “Cause you’re all horned up, aren’t you, honey?” he whispered, taking his free hand and venturing between Olivia’s legs, slipping his hand under the waistband of her leggings. He moaned at his discovery. “Fuck… sexy, horny girl…”

Olivia bit her lip to keep from moaning, letting his hand explore her folds for just a moment before pushing him away. “Stop… stop, he knows,” she urged, furtively glancing towards the front seat again.

Harry smirked, making no motion to move his hand from Olivia as the tables had now turned. “Make me,” he taunted, circling his finger slowly against her underwear. He kissed against Olivia’s neck as he continued to lightly rub his thumb against her lips, teasing her.

“God…” Olivia groaned out, louder than she intended. Her hand immediately clamped over her mouth, her gaze darting back to the front seat. The driver wasn’t being inconspicuous as he intently stared at the rear-view mirror, and Olivia was certain she saw a small smirk on his face.

“Get off of me!” Olivia hissed, shoving Harry away from her before darting back across the backseat, tucking herself against the door in an attempt to get as far away from her sexy boyfriend as she could. She crossed her arms over her chest and pointed a finger at the back of the driver’s head. “He’s watching!” she mouthed to Harry.

Harry rested his elbows on his knees as he ducked his head, laughing. Olivia stretched her leg out, giving him a gentle kick. Her abuse didn’t stop him from laughing; rather, it escalated his chuckles. Olivia rolled her eyes at him, but his laughter was contagious and soon she found herself giggling in unison with Harry. She liked how they could go from feeling each other up in the back seat of a rental car to giggling like a couple of school kids in just a matter of moments.

Harry grinned at Olivia, reaching across the seat for her hand. He linked his fingers through hers before lifting her hand and pressing a kiss against it. “Horn dog,” he whispered to her, a cheeky smirk on his lips.

Olivia gently brushed her hand across Harry’s cheek affectionately. “Slut,” she responded teasingly.

~*~*~*~

The driver took so long to get to Harry’s house, Olivia was certain they were closer to the English Channel and had bypassed the city of London entirely. But finally, he stopped the car in front of a white stucco home, smirking once more at Olivia through the mirror before stepping out of the car and opening the back door for her and Harry.

Olivia slid out, careful to keep her backside against the car and out of the driver’s view. Harry followed her, taking her hand as he stepped out. “Come on, love,” he instructed, walking her towards the front door as the driver unloaded their suitcases from the trunk. “Let’s help your shirt find the floor.”

“Deal,” Olivia agreed, stepping into the house behind Harry. It was smaller than his Los Angeles home, and the décor seemed a bit more show-home than his own personal style, but it was cozy. “But I need a girl moment or two,” she told Harry, taking his other hand in her free one and stretching up to kiss him.

Harry smirked. “Girl moment, eh?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Can’t even wait for me?”

Olivia squeezed Harry’s hands. “Well, you got me so riled up, you know,” she teased, kissing him again. “This way?” she asked, gesturing. When Harry nodded, Olivia grinned and gave him a light swat on his bottom. “I’ll just go finish up… I mean, freshen up,” she told him as the driver approached the front door with the suitcases. “Don’t let him follow me,” she whispered, only half kidding.

“Hurry. Up.” Harry told her, the urgency apparent in his voice.

Olivia rolled her eyes good-naturedly as she disappeared down the hall into the powder room. After brushing her teeth and running a facial wipe across her face, she shimmied herself out of her bra and reknotted her hair, quickly slapping on a swipe of lip balm before stepping out of the bathroom.

She found Harry in the kitchen, his back to her as he filled a couple of glasses with wine. She stepped behind him and wrapped her arms around him, holding her bra against his chest. “Hi…”

Harry looked down at the bra, chuckling. “You want me to wear this or something?” he asked curiously as he turned around. He wrapped his arms around Olivia’s shoulders, pressing a kiss against her forehead. “I think it looks better on you, love,” he told her. “Actually, no…” he corrected, looking down at Olivia’s unconstrained breasts. “It looks better here,” he said, dropping the bra to the floor. He kissed her again. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

Olivia smiled. She loved the butterflies his words always caused. “Oh… you’re just saying that cause you want to get lucky,” she teased him. She stretched her neck, kissing Harry. “But thank you,” she added, tightening her arms around his waist.

He dropped another kiss onto her head before handing Olivia a glass of wine. “I know I don’t need you to get drunk to have sex with me, but it makes you think I’m a god,” Harry said, taking a glass for himself. “Plus, wine makes you kind of freaky,” he added with a smirk.

Olivia shrugged nonchalantly. “Yeah, well…” she answered, not disagreeing as she took a large sip.

“That’s my girl,” Harry said, watching in amusement as she took her drink. “Well… I guess I need to be a gentleman and give you the tour, huh?” Harry wondered, his gaze flickering to Olivia’s breasts. “Can’t just… take you right here. Gotta be a gentleman,” he repeated slowly, squeezing one of her breasts.

“Kind of playing it a little fast and loose with the word ‘gentleman’,” Olivia teased him, watching his beautiful had grope her. “Okay, give me the condensed tour. That means I don’t care about any room but yours,” she told him, running her fingers up his chest before grabbing the half-full wine bottle and tucking it under her arm.

“You’ve got a deal, sweetheart,” Harry agreed, taking a drink before grasping Olivia by the hand and leading her upstairs. At the top of the stairs, he turned and led Olivia up another flight.

“These fucking stairs,” he grumbled, gripping Olivia’s hand tighter for support. “Maybe I should get one of those old person seats for this place.”

Olivia snickered, rubbing his back. “Told you it was a good idea,” she remarked teasingly, stepping beside him at the top of the stairs. Harry pushed the door open, revealing a large, bright room, filled with natural light and a King-sized bed covered with fluffy pillows. Given her level of exhaustion, a futon in a dank basement would have seemed like a bed of clouds, but this bed would have made a bed of clouds seem like a futon in a dank basement. She couldn’t wait to curl up against those pillows, Harry her little spoon.

“This is lovely,” Olivia commented, setting the wine bottle on the dresser as she slowly spun, taking in the room. She stepped into the bathroom, a large, black-tiled room with a triple nozzle shower and Jacuzzi tub. Forget the bed, she wanted in the tub.

“You’re lovely,” Harry countered, watching Olivia spin in a slow circle. He took her by the hand, guiding her spin under his arm. He chuckled. “Remember the first time you danced with me?”

Olivia smiled, holding her wine carefully as Harry spun her again. “When you dropped me?” she asked him playfully. She let out a loud squeal as Harry attempted to dip her, flicking her hand against his bottom once she was upright.

Harry rolled his eyes affably. “Mm-hmm…” he hummed. “I’m actually a very good dancer. You just stepped all over my feet,” he told her, playfully condescending. “Oops! Sorry, love,” he apologized as he stepped onto Olivia’s foot.

She laughed. “You really are the best dancer. Or… at least you’re my favourite dancer, anyway,” she added, her arm snaking around his shoulders as she stretched to kiss him.

“Mmm… I can live with that,” Harry agreed, his hands running under Olivia’s shirt and up her bare back. “Your skin is so soft, honey,” he murmured, his breath bouncing off her ear, triggering a cluster of goosebumps up her arms. “This thing needs to find the floor,” he repeated, pushing her shirt further up her body.

Obediently, Olivia lifted her arms and raised an eyebrow at Harry, silently telling him to finish undressing her. He flashed her a dimpled grin, keeping his eyes locked with hers as he pulled her t-shirt over her head. He held the shirt out, dropping it with a flourish.

“That’s better,” he murmured in a husky voice, his gaze dropping from Olivia’s eyes to her breasts. “Way better…” he added, his hands cupping her breasts and squeezing them lightly. “Me next,” he insisted, lifting his own arms and somehow resembling a toddler as well as a stunningly gorgeous man.

“My pleasure,” Olivia told him, reaching her hands under Harry’s shirt. She began to push his shirt up, but was interrupted by the sound of Harry’s cell phone ringing. She scowled at him as he reached into his pocket.

“Ignore it,” she told him pleadingly, knowing full well he couldn’t or wouldn’t.

Harry gave Olivia a sympathetic look. “It’s Jeffrey,” he told her apologetically. “He’s texted too. Fuck… just give me two minutes, sweetheart. Keep those things warm for me,” he added, taking Olivia’s hand and placing it against her breast.

Olivia rolled her eyes. She hated Jeff’s timing sometimes. She knew Harry’s job wasn’t a nine-to-five and sometimes their evenings had to be interrupted by work responsibilities, but it always seemed to happen during the throes of passion while one or more of them were missing clothes.

Mind you, they were in the throes of passion a lot.

Olivia breathed out a quiet sigh as Harry ducked back into the bedroom to deal with Jeff. She stepped closer to the tub, examining it. It looked to be a wonderful soaking tub, and bubbling up with Harry would be the perfect way to end their excruciatingly long day.

She plugged the tub and pawed around under the sink until she found a nearly-full bottle of bubble bath. She squirted in a bit more than necessary, then added a bit more after that. Harry wasn’t exactly a cattle-branding, engine-swapping, steel-gear-jammer kind of man, so Olivia fully expected to find an array of candles in the bathroom. She was confoundedly surprised when she came up empty-handed, but remembered seeing a couple scented jars in the bedroom.

“Don’t mind me,” she told Harry innocently as she darted into the bedroom, coyly covering her naked breasts. She grabbed the candles from the dresser, remembered the wine bottle, and flashed Harry a flirtatious grin as he gaped at her.

“Fuck… Jeff, I’ve gotta go,” Olivia heard him say as she flounced back into the bathroom. “No, I… Yeah… Jeff… Rey… Look! Liv’s half-naked, getting drunk and running a bath. I’m not even listening to anything you’re saying anymore. Okay, bye!”

Harry nearly broke his other leg as he bounded back into the bathroom, just as Olivia was slinking into the bubbles.

“Hi, honey,” Olivia greeted, leaning her head against the back of the tub. She took a sip of her wine before looking up at Harry with hooded, lustful eyes. “Why aren’t you in here with me yet?” she asked him, a false pout forming on her lips.

Harry was tugging on his shirt, struggling to pull it over his head. “I’m trying!” he exclaimed, finally yanking the shirt off and tossing it over his head. “Stupid fucking belt…” he cussed, his fingers fumbling erratically.

Olivia laughed, watching Harry’s striptease-on-speed. “Oh!” she exclaimed as he stumbled, tripping over his own two feet as he attempted to kick his legs free from his jeans. “Are you okay? Be careful, I’m way too turned on to take you to the hospital,” she added, innocently sipping her wine.

Harry shook his head at her, the water sloshing about a moment later as he sank into the tub across from her. He sighed with contentment, stretching his legs out towards Olivia. “Ohhh… good idea, honey,” he determined, caressing her legs with his foot. “You better not be too tired to fuck me, either,” he added with a smirk.

Olivia set her wine glass on the edge of the tub and crawled through the suds towards Harry. She braced her hands on the ledge behind him as she brushed her wet breasts against his chest before finding his lips. “I could never be that tired…” she purred to him, straddling Harry and feeling his member grow against her as she covered his jawline with kisses.

Harry leaned his head back, enjoying her lips. “Mmm… can I get that in writing?” he asked in a gravelly voice, running his hands up her back.

Olivia playfully bit Harry’s neck in response, provoking a swat across her bottom from him. “I don’t think so, sweetheart,” Olivia told him, caressing her lips against his.

Harry tightened his grip on her waist, gathering her against him as their lips tangled together before parting slightly to give way for their eager tongues. Harry’s eyes were squeezed shut but Olivia kept hers open, admiring his features as they kissed. A surge of adoration filled her chest as she gazed at her love. His brow furrowed as their lips continued to frolic, his chest rising into hers as he sighed out an exhale against her skin.

Feeling her gaze on him, Harry slowly popped open one eye after a moment, grinning lazily at Olivia. “What’re you staring at, love?” he mumbled against her lips.

“You,” Olivia answered simply, a bashful smile appearing as he caught her staring. Her eyes swept over the soft waves that fell across his forehead, curling around his ears, to his bright emerald eyes, and lingered on his lips.

Harry’s smile widened as he sat up straighter, tightly holding onto Olivia as he changed positions, water sloshing over the sides of the tub. She let out a laugh at the sudden change, a laugh Harry quickly silenced by kissing her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, her fingers tugging through his hair as she kissed him back.

“You’re cheesy as fuck, you know that?” Harry asked, cupping Olivia’s bottom and tugging her closer to him. “But, I do like cheese… Just not see-through cheese,” he added teasingly, reminding Olivia of the barbecue at her sister’s house – something that seemed like yesterday, but at the same time, eons ago.

Olivia giggled against Harry’s lips. “Definitely not see through,” she agreed, pressing another kiss onto Harry’s lips. This… was bliss.

Notes