Chapter 44: On Top

Ignore ignore ignore – that's been the motto since my nudes got leaked. It's next to impossible to do but I was managing fine until my PR team finally tracked me down. Jackson has had them calling nonstop since everything came out hoping I'd finally answer. The only reason I even picked up the phone is because Harry had me distracted with a fantastic foot rub. Typically, I'm too ticklish for him to go anywhere near my feet but in the days since the leak I've been so stressed it's like my skin there doesn't even remember being sensitive.

After Jackson scolded me for not answering anyone's calls he laid it on me that I would have to go on at least one interview to, in his words, "set the record straight." I made it known I couldn't care less about the record seeing as how my reputation isn't that great anyway but he wasn't hearing it. He wasted no time informing me that I'm a public figure now – a brand – and as such I have to explain myself to the public at large even when it doesn't seem right or fair.

I agreed to do the interview but I told him flat out that I'm doing this my way. I won't be railroaded with uncomfortable questions and I won't be reading off of a script. If I'm doing this at all I'm going to speak from the heart and tell nothing but the truth. After a long pause he agreed, although begrudgingly.

I don't understand what the big deal is. I write sex books for a living for crying out loud, I don't get how having nudes out there is such a shock. Why I have to go on national TV and talk about my cupcakes and sugar bowl is beyond me. I'm not the first person to have their nudes leaked whether by a hacker or a betrayal and I won't be the last. We, as women, typically all have the same stuff underneath our clothes so the fascination with seeing the newest nudes goes right over my head.

What's worse is the reaction I've been getting from the public. I'll never understand this obsession with tearing people down from the safety of your home. These people go and search for my nudes just so they can ridicule me and talk crap behind a screen – it's idiotic. You knew the pictures were out there before you looked them up so why wait until you see them to talk your shįt? Do you have to make sure they pass a hotness test first or something? The shįt is weird to me.

Harry's hand squeezes mine softly as we walk towards the stage. The interview is with an entertainment journalist on E News named Penelope Vargas, a pretty Latina with long blue-black hair and even longer legs. Her segment is one of the most popular because it's only on once a week and it's always live in front of a studio audience. Her show is kind of messy like Wendy Williams' but she seems easy enough to work with so far. We spoke directly to set this interview up and she commended me on handling my business on my own and expressed her condolences that we'd be meeting under such crappy circumstances. I liked that she was easy to talk to and seemed to understand my predicament but I've seen some of her interviews and she doesn't always play by the rules. I'll have my guard up even though she swore she'd be on her best behavior, going so far as to allow Harry to be with me during the interview as a sign of good faith. Of course I knew that was a crock of gas, that little gesture had nothing to do with "good faith" and everything to do with good ratings. Being able to say she's having Harry Styles and his slutty girlfriend on her show brings in way more views than just saying Harry's harlot is coming for an interview. My agreeance to the interview at all, however, relied on having Harry by my side and she's the only interviewer we spoke with that would allow it so here I am.

"Are you two all mic'd up and ready to go?" Penelope asks, ultra-white teeth gleaming to perfection in the light. The pressed knee-length skirt and crème blouse she's in make her look more serious than this whole thing really is. You'd think she was reporting on Congress not other people's lives but alas, here she is in all of her glory.

"We're ready," Harry answers for the both of us, then squeezes my hand again reassuringly.

I nod once, with a small smile across my painted lips.

Penelope grins then rushes off with one of the people in all black that have been shepherding Harry and I around all afternoon. The day has been a blur - a tornado really – that after spinning us around a million times plopped us out here without a clue as to how we got here. I'm not nervous and yet at the same time I am. I can feel my hands starting to sweat and quickly slide the one grasping onto Harry's free to wipe them on my pants.

"Shįt," I swear under my breath as I remember my pants are cream colored. The last thing I need is a freaking stain on my clothes.

Harry swiftly grabs my hands, stopping them from their incessant fidgeting and swiping against stains that aren't there, and plants kisses along my knuckles softly.

"Sweetheart," he sings, his voice low, his breath playing over the tops of my digits, "You've got to relax. Breathe and then tell me what's bothering you. Pinpoint what it is and let it out."

I do as I'm told, following the techniques my therapist taught us after Harry came in with me for a couple of visits. My thoughts gradually slow from the whirlwind state they're in to a calmer more relaxed frame of mind and as I focus in I can see exactly what's got me so freaked.

"It's just, this whole thing is live. What if I say the wrong thing and make myself look worse?" I explain, feeling lighter already. I've come to realize so many of my issues come from bottling myself up. When I do that I make myself feel like my feelings aren't important so it's easier for me to convince myself others think that too.

Harry's dimples greet me when I look up at him and it makes me smile instinctively. "If you haven't noticed, I say stupid things on camera all the time – it hasn't burned me too badly yet. You'll be fine, I promise. There's nothing for you to be afraid of."

I roll my eyes, sweeping a strand of hair back behind his ear. "You come out unscathed because the whole world thinks you're adorable. They think I'm a no good scamming whore – the odds are not in my favor."

Harry's eyes bulge at my words but seeing the playful smile across my lips he laughs. "You have the dirtiest mouth in California but you're plenty adorable yourself. Don't sell yourself short sweetheart. Just remember at the end of the day, this interview is about you. If you want to stay we'll stay but if you decide two seconds in that you want to leave I'll be right beside you."

I can't help my grin seeing the honesty in his eyes. He'd do anything for me, and I for him.

"I love you Harry Styles," I manage to get out past my ceaseless smiling.

"I think I love you more," he replies, a smirk touching his lips before he connects ours.

The kiss is quick and chaste but it does the job. I'm as ready as I'll ever be.

~*~

"Welcome back friends. I'm Penelope Vargas and before the commercial break I promised you all an exclusive interview with One Direction heartthrob Harry Styles and his girlfriend Bailey Duncan and as always I've delivered. Please give a warm welcome to our guests."

Penelope waits for the audience's applause to stop before continuing. "It's great to have you two here tonight."

"Great to be here," I smile, falsely but it's still bright.

"Thank you for having us," Harry says, his grin widening as he waves to a fan in the audience.

The fan screams out that she loves him and the room erupts in laughter, breaking some of the stiffness.

"That must get so annoying," Penelope offers, "having women profess their love for your boyfriend all the time."

I shake my head before I answer with a genuine grin, looking over to Harry, "Not really, he's very lovable so I understand."

A warm smile lights up Harry's eyes as he slips his hand into mine. The audience reacts fondly to his gesture – if they only knew how grounded his hand in mine keeps me.

"You two are so cute, but we'll get back to that. I'm sorry to just jump into this but I know most people are tuned in to hear about the scandal that just took place over the past weeks. Bailey, you had nude and semi-nude photos of you leaked online by an anonymous source," Penelope pauses so the audience can react as if they're shocked to hear it, "I suppose the first question for you Bailey is, how have you been dealing with this since everything has transpired?"

My heart rate quickens but I fight against it, determined to answer with a still voice, "To be honest Penelope, I haven't been."

The audience laughs a bit before Penelope cuts in, laughing some herself, "What do you mean by that?"

I shrug, shaking my head, "I mean just that. This is the first and only time I'm speaking publically about this."

"And why is that?"

"Public opinion is going to be what it's going to be Penelope. If I try to put out every fire that pops up, I'll be running around like a chicken with it's head cut off. If what I have to say today doesn't reach the hearts of people and they can't understand where I'm coming from then that's fine. I can't change people's minds about me so I'm not going to try, it's not that important to me."

Penelope tilts her head to the side in that way that says "that was honest," and moves on. "I respect that completely Bailey. However, what about the minds of your family, your friends, not to mention the people in Harry's life – are you concerned about how this may affect them?"

"Of course," I answer quickly, "There isn't anything I care about more than the people in my life that love and care for me. I would hate it if this affected any of them in a negative way but truthfully, they know this wasn't my doing and they don't blame me for it."

Her eyebrows raise then, "So you didn't have anything to do with the pictures being leaked? According to many different media outlets you did this to gin up buzz around your name for the release of your book, "Born and Bred," and I'm not one to kick a woman while she's down but I have to say it does seem a bit suspicious. Furthermore, as a published author, you now have a responsibility to be a role model to young women who look up to you. Having these sexting pictures come out isn't helping you live up to your job as a role model.

The audience jumps in with applause as if she let out some kind of profound knowledge. I can see the smug look on her face the more they go on.

My pride is rushing through my veins louder than reason – I can't let her get away with this. My nails dig into the plush white leather of the chair I'm in and just as I turn more to face her I feel Harry's fingers lace between mine. I glance over at him and he shakes his head so slightly if I wasn't paying attention I would've missed it.

Breathing deeply, I paste a smile to my lips. "I have to disagree with you there Penelope. I don't write stories that are appropriate for anyone of an age where they can be influenced in the way that you're speaking of. Although I respect and have so much love for my fans who are young and impressionable I pray they aren't reading my stuff. What I do hope is that they see the way this whole mess has been handled and learn from my mistakes. Mistakes I made at close to the same age they are. So no, I don't think this is a good example for a role model to be setting but the only thing I can say as a "role model" is I'm not a role model I'm a human being. I'm going to make mistakes, I'm going to do things wrong, and they are too but the only thing any of us can do is learn from them and move on."

The audience applauds my statement but I'm not finished.

"And you're right Penelope, the media has said a lot of things about me since this whole thing started. They portrayed me the same way they always portray women who have had their trust betrayed whether by someone they knew or by a hacker – like a whore."

Penelope gasps, her hand flying over her mouth – the audience's reaction is the same

I cover my own mouth and chuckle softly, "Sorry. See what I mean about being no role model? I can't say that word can I? But everyone watching sure can and I'm sure they have at some point and although it's a fair assumption it's wrong."

"What do you mean by that?" Penelope asks, leaning across the warm oak wood desk she's seated behind.

"Well for starters, I know exactly who "leaked" these photos because contrary to the way the media has tried to portray me I wasn't a "loose urban youth running wild" as a teen. I was a 4.0 student who graduated with honors that went on to college to do more of the same and graduate with a bachelor's degree in business. These pictures are old. This person whom I once called a friend, whom I trusted – loved even, has once again betrayed me by "leaking" a teenage mistake to the press. I know exactly who "leaked" these photos but more than that I know why. He and people like him are the reason it's so difficult for anyone to make it in this world. People like him allow their jealousy and insecurity to cloud their judgement because they hate to see people that were once happy with them, happy without them."

"So are you saying this is a past lover? I mean I would assume so, these pictures are pretty racy," Penelope juts in, gesturing her hand to the blurred photos on the screen behind her.

"I was in love with him – or rather I thought I was at the time. I was a sheltered sixteen-year-old girl who didn't know what love meant."

"We've all been there, haven't we ladies?" Penelope asks her audience as they cheer and applaud in agreeance. "So what are you doing to combat this? Are you working to get the pictures taken down or trying to get back at him? I know you may not be able to reveal much but I'm sure everyone's dying for some payback after hearing the truth."

The audience hoots and hollers as if they agree wholly.

"I'm not going to try and get the pictures taken down, it's honestly a waste of money," I reply dryly, waving my hand dismissively – the crowd laughs as I continue, "I mean those pictures are so old I could claim it's not even me – I don't look the same at all body wise. And as for him...I mean he tried to paint me into a corner and take away my options but unlike him – I'm intelligent, I always have options. For one, I'm sure he had no idea of the way a little stunt like this could cause problems not only for him but for the media sources that ran the story and splattered the photos all over their covers and websites. In those photos, I'm sixteen years old. Now correct me if I'm wrong Penelope but at the age of sixteen, one is still classified as a child. So, if I was the type of person that the "source" is, I couldn't have child pornography charges brought up against him and the media outlets who partook in this little cash grab since the statute of limitations is up but I could most definitely make a stink about it and cost everyone involved a lot of money. But then I of course could always just go with option B and release his name and current phone number online – both perfectly legal actions since they're public record and let the people issue their own brand of internet justice and expose him for the person he truly is."

A mixture of applause and laughter follows but I wave my hand to quiet them down.

"I said I have options – I never said I would use any of them," I laugh, "Truthfully had this been back then I would've but I'm an adult and adults don't use eight year old pictures to try and destroy someone's life."

Penelope's head falls back as she cackles, "I heard that girl. It's really inspiring that you're rising above all of this mess. I know I can't be the only one wondering how you do it?"

"Like I said, I was a sixteen year old child, I thought I was in love and I thought sending these pictures to him – pictures he probably showed anyone that would look – would prove that. But that was me thinking as a child. As an adult, I see those actions as what they were – mistakes. I know now," I stop to grab Harry's hand in mine, "that love isn't about proving or forcing it, it's about showing it, every day. There are no days off when you love somebody it's all the time and no amount of picture leaks or bad press can change that. Love is about standing by each other when things get tough and making it through together when things get tougher. It's about standing by the side of the person you'd do anything for in the face of an army and telling them to take the right while you get the left. That's what I didn't know then but I know that now."

"Adorable, I could just eat the both of you up. Aren't they adorable guys?" Penelope asks her audience – smiling at their roar of applause. "One last thing about this and I swear we'll move on, but how do you think that girl in the pictures would react if she saw you here today? Do you regret those pictures? Or better yet that guy?"

I laugh, "My younger self would be in disbelief. Honestly I never in a million years thought I would be able to do the thing I love the most which is writing with the man I love the most right by my side. This man has supported me and lifted me up in times when I didn't deserve it, he's been there for me when I didn't know how to accept it and he's never given up on me. Neither of us can claim to be perfect but we're perfectly matched. I have his back and I know without a doubt that he has mine. He shows me every day exactly what a man loving me looks like and what love really looks like on me. I think my younger self would be proud and I'm proud of my younger self, she made it through really trying difficulties and laid the foundation for the woman I am today. And as much as he deserves no credit, my ex had a part in my growth too. Granted, his part consisted of making a lot of the difficulties for me, but knowing that without them I wouldn't be me; I can't regret him or the pictures."

As the audience quiets down from their applause Penelope redirects the conversation to things I'm more comfortable talking about – writing, my future, and Harry. We end up telling her how we met and fell in love and dodged marriage questions with ease all while showing our love for one another.

~*~

After we wrapped on the interview, Harry and I headed home so he could change shoes. He'd been breaking in a new pair of his beloved Chelsea boots and they had his feet sore. I decided yesterday that I'd treat him to a night of pampering for being such a good sport about this whole charade so from the second he got back in the car our night of trading places began.

"Where are we going sweetheart?" Harry asks for what feels like the thirtieth time.

I roll my eyes more so at him but also at the traffic that's mutating our twenty-minute drive into an hour long excursion. He's so impatient, it's cute – like a little kid waiting on a surprise you got him.

"You'll see soon enough Harold, just enjoy this barbaric LA traffic like the rest of these kind folks," I reply sarcastically gesturing my hands around.

He sighs and sits back against the seat – softly hitting his head against the head rest repeatedly to pass the time.

"Have you talked to your mom today?" I ask, trying to sound inconspicuous.

He pauses his head banging to answer, "If you're asking if she saw the show, the answer is yes."

I groan and join him, head-butting my headrest at the idea. I've never met his mother, I don't need her meeting me for the first time and only knowing the things the media is saying about me. I'm so far away from being that girl in those photos – that's not the me I want her to get to know. I don't want her to feel like I'm not good enough for her son. I guess I should've made more of an effort to meet her but I was so uncertain of how I would fair in our relationship that it didn't seem right to meet his mother. Now, I'm regretting that decision. Not only am I to meet his mom in a couple of weeks but I have to meet his whole family – his step dad, his sister, and possibly his father. I'm so nervous I could puke and I'm not even on the plane yet.

"Hello," Harry exaggerates the word, "Traffic is moving baby you've got to move too."

"Oh," I shake my head, trying to focus my brain, "Right. Thanks."

I feel his eyes on me as I drive but I don't respond. Instead I just act like I'm focused on the road and try to clear my mind so I can make tonight a dream for him.

Pulling into the parking lot, recognition lights Harry's face and makes me smile.

"I can't believe this," he beams, "You're the best!"

His reaction makes my heart flutter and after opening my car door, he slips his hand into mine quickly. I can tell he's excited to get inside. He's been talking about coming to this art gallery for months to see one of his favorite artist's showing. It opened late last month but he'd been so busy he hadn't been able to stop by. Combine the extensive trips to our parents' homes that we'll be taking this month with his hectic schedule and he wouldn't have had the chance to see it before the artist moved on to a new gallery in another state. I figured since he took a day off his schedule to support me the least I could do would be to make it worth his while. He shouldn't have to sacrifice a day of business and missing the show. I may not be extremely interested in photography or art but I can appreciate it as I see the love for it in Harry's eyes.

Every photo, sculpture, and painting he sees makes his eyes gleam and dance in the warmly lit room. The offset walls make the gallery almost like a maze but they're so perfectly placed, the art on them can't help but catch your eye. Champagne and hors d'oeuvres whiz past us on shiny silver and gold platters that seem to glow in the light.

No one is paying much attention to anything but the art. People are huddled around like campers around a fire searching for warmth. The way the whole room seems to dissipate for them, the only thing existing in that moment being the painting, or photo, or sculpture they're peering into and whatever it is they can pull from it – it's beautiful. I don't think I could ever look at a picture and see anything other than what's staring me in the face; but watching the people who can see deeper, who let the art wash over them like warm ocean tide – there's poetry in that.

Harry's movements, his words, his body language – all of it is like music to me. He moves with a flow all his own. It's nothing like the others around us, so tightly coiled, completely engulfed with learning what they can learn for themselves. His rhythm is different, it's wide, all consuming, and inviting. He wants me to see what he sees. It's in the way he pulls me into him to view the art beside him, in the way he speaks about it and explains what he sees and where, it's in the way he moves, making sure I'm right there with him every step of the way not missing a thing. You can tell in everything he does that he loves this like he loves me; completely.

I smile proudly, knowing that I made the right decision in bringing him here.

"Where'd you go earlier when we were in the car?" Harry asks as we finally make our way to the exit.

I sigh, knowing I need to tell him but dreading the possible mood change it may bring.

"Just thinking about Thanksgiving. It's just a big step meeting your whole family...I hope," I sigh again, leaning against the side of the car, "I hope they accept me. I don't want them to think I'm not good enough for you."

He frowns, not in anger, but confusion. Wrapping me in his arms he pulls me to his chest, his scent invading my senses.

"Look at what you did for me tonight Bailey. You went out of your way after having such a trying anxiety filled day to surprise me with something I wanted but had given up on. This is the most romantic, special thing anyone has ever done for me – you are more than enough, you are everything. You make me so incredibly happy and my family can see that – there's no way they'll think less of you."

I breathe him in – everything; his scent, his words, his warmth – it all feels right, like home. We stay like that for a while longer and end the embrace with a kiss.

The car ride back home is much lighter - filled with singing and conversation. It surprises me how fast the drive felt as I park the car in the driveway.

"Go get comfortable, dinner will be ready in ten minutes," I say, earning a confused look from Harry. "I cooked tonight's dinner last night, all I have to do is warm it up."

He grins then, kissing my cheek, "You smart cookie."

I roll my eyes playfully and head over to the kitchen. I've made baked salmon and mixed veggies so it'll be a pretty light dinner which is good since it's kind of late.

Right on cue, Harry walks into the kitchen, his bare feet slapping against the hardwoods.

"Sweetheart something is smelling heavenly," he murmurs before kissing my neck.

I revel in the kiss for a second, a smile lighting my lips, before ushering him to his seat. "I'm fixing your plate now. Grab some wine from the cooler and then have a seat."

I hear him pop open the wine behind me and start pouring it into glasses. As I turn to him, walking over with our plates, his grin spreads a mile wide.

"You keep up this type of treatment and I might have to marry you," he jokes, greedily reaching for his plate.

I pull it back, just out of his grasp, "Might? Mr. Styles I'm not playing house with you so you don't make an honest woman out of me."

His reaching for the plate is near desperation as he rambles, holding back laughter, "Did I say might? I meant for sure, one hundred percent, I went to the jeweler's yesterday."

I roll my eyes and shove the plate into his greedy hands. "Ha. Ha. Ha," I jeer, "We'll see if you're laughing when you don't get the rest of the surprises I had for you tonight."

His eyebrow raises, "More surprises? I'll be good I promise."

I purse my lips, shaking my head, "I don't know if you deserve the king treatment Styles. You shaded me and I do not appreciate it."

He frowns, pursing his lips back at me, "Maybe if I had a hint about what the surprises are I would behave a little better."

Thinking quickly, I grab an asparagus stalk, waving it around as I talk. "I don't know. I think a surprise isn't a surprise if you give hints," I stop to place the asparagus tip in my mouth and suck it in then pull it back out, leaving him entranced, "you know?"

He nods, open-mouthed, completely understanding my obvious tease.

I smirk at his expression but quiver on the inside at the promise I just made. I've never done anything like that before but it's something I've been wanting to try. He's been my first for everything except this but there's been a reason I've put it off. I have a terrible gag reflex. I mean I nearly barf brushing my tongue when I brush my teeth I can only imagine having something much bigger than a toothbrush in my mouth.

Before I can get too consumed with my thoughts, I excuse myself to set up phase three of our night. Stepping into the bathroom, I grab the supply bag I put together last night from under the counter. Popping the top off of the foaming lavender body wash I pour it beneath the hot water filling the bathtub. Watching the bubbles form, I carefully set out vanilla scented candles around the tub and light them one by one until a warm orange glow emits from the tub. It literally smells like relaxation in here and I can feel myself unknot. I turn the water off just as the tub fills and go get Harry.

"All done?" I ask, reaching for his empty plate.

He smiles, rubbing his stomach, "Yes ma'am. Where to next?"

I giggle, placing his plate in the sink. "Next you hop in the tub and wait for me."

He raises his eyebrows jokingly a wide smile on his face. "Done."

"Keep it hot for me," I yell after him, earning a laugh.

Once he's gone I grab the strawberries and whipped cream from the fridge and fill a bowl with hot water. I drop the strawberries into the water to knock the cold out so our teeth won't freeze to death as we bite into them. Popping a small strawberry into my mouth, I moan at the flavor and the temperature. Not only are these berries ripe but our teeth will be totally safe from frostbite.

I head to the bathroom with the strawberries and a bowl of whipped cream on a platter. The lights are off and I can hear Harry sloshing around in the water quietly. As soon as I sit the platter down on the table beside the tub I hop in the warm water, startling Harry.

"I must've drifted off to sleep," he says, his voice low, a dreamy look in his eyes.

"It's the lavender," I reply, "I wanted you to relax baby."

He holds his hand up, doing the 'ok' signal, "Mission accomplished."

Giggling, I grab his left foot and start slowly massaging it. His head falls back even more and a moan escapes his mouth.

"Oh my God, my feet are honestly in so much pain," he breathes, his voice is so low and grumbly. So sexy.

"I know baby," I coo softly, "Just lay back and relax. Let me take care of you."

He grunts a reply as I start on his right arch, kneading and pressing into the flesh there like dough. Just watching him enjoying this so much is making my heart soar. I love seeing him enjoying me in any way at all, it makes me feel like I'm slowly repairing the cracks I put on his heart.

It doesn't take long before he's softly snoring, his head rested against the bathtub's built in pillow. I let him get some sleep and keep rubbing his feet but as the water starts to go from hot to warm I know we'll be getting out soon and that means my earlier promise is closer to fruition. I debate leaving him alone and letting him rest but I know if anything is going to happen tonight I need to redirect the mood from sleepy to sexy. The water helps me to glide over to him easier and straddle his lap. I feel his length rub against my thighs as I hover over him, grabbing a strawberry from the tray.

"Baby," I whisper, dipping the strawberry in whipped cream that's nowhere near as whipped as it was earlier, "Baby boy...I need you to wake up."

Leaning over him he looks so peaceful, like an angel sent down to make me hope again. I place sweet kisses to his lips until he responds and kisses me back, wrapping his harms around my waist. Instinctively my thighs clamp around him and he pulls me down onto his lap as we kiss. The water seems to heat up as we do, bringing me back to the moment and the fact that I have a strawberry dripping cream into the tub in my hand.

I pull away from the kiss but stay in his lap – in his arms.

"Here," I offer the strawberry which he gladly accepts, his lips brushing against my fingertips as he bites it.

"Sorry I fell asleep love, that foot massage really hit the spot for me I guess," he laughs, taking a strawberry from the tray and dipping it in the cream, "I assume this wasn't this...soupy before?"

I giggle, shaking my head, "Not so much but that's okay."

He leans forward slightly and I place a quick kiss to his lips.

"Sorry sweetheart, I know you put a lot of effort into tonight. I'll make it up to you though," he smirks, his skin glistening in the candle light.

"There's nothing to make up for," I assure him, "But there are a couple more surprises for you if you're ready."

His eyes light with excitement as he nods slowly.

"Let's go," I gasp, my heart racing so fast I'm struggling to breathe.

He steps out first as usual, letting me watch his glistening wet body before he wraps a towel around his nethers and holds one out for me. As we walk to the bedroom together, he holds my hand which makes my heart speed. It's something so simple and sweet and unnecessary but in the cutest of ways, I force myself to attack this whole giving head thing with complete determination.

"Lay down on your stomach," I say, earning an intrigued look from Harry but he does it anyway.

With a deep breath I drop my towel to the ground and grab the massage oil from my supply bag. Climbing to the center of the bed, I straddle his back and drizzle oil on his back and shoulders. I can tell he wasn't sure what to expect by the way his shoulders tensed when the oil hit his skin but he quickly relaxed. I rub my body against his as I massage him, grinding my flesh against his making the both of us moan. It isn't until I lay my breast down against his back as I reach under him to rub his chest that he can't take anymore and rolls over onto his back.

"Ba-" I start to scold him and tell him to roll back over but he cuts off my words with a kiss. I realize what the hurry is when I settle in across his lap. His hardness is pressing into me with such urgency I'm afraid he'll rip through the towel.

"I need to be inside of you," he breathes over my lips, breaking our kiss for only a moment.

My chest quakes at the idea of skipping the foreplay and going straight to the main attraction but I like the idea of making him wait a little more.

I break our kiss once again, dragging my lips to his neck, nipping the skin there before trailing my tongue across his collarbone to the other side of his neck.

"Sweetheart please," he begs as I pull his skin between my teeth.

I shake my head and whisper, "Be patient," as I move down his body leaving kisses and teeth nicks in my wake.

His body starts to shake slightly as I pull the towel loose with my teeth and graze his thighs with my fingertips. I start at his ankles and kiss up his legs on the inner flesh as well as the tops. Looking up at him, I see he's sitting up on his forearms watching my every move, his mouth hanging open. As I move up his body his hardness is staring at me big, dripping, and angry looking. My throat feels dry but I don't allow myself to become intimidated.

Licking my lips, I try to recall the pornos I've seen and run the play by play in my head as I act them out. The second my tongue touches the skin of his manhood his head falls back. As I lick up his length he sinks down onto the bed, his arms slowly falling from beneath him to his sides.

I'm loving seeing his reactions to me as I do this to him I feel so empowered. A loud groan flies from his throat as I cover my teeth with my lips and sink down on him, covering the tip of his manhood with my mouth.

I see now why some women like this so much. I try to watch while we're making love but it's too hard to keep an eye on him and orgasm at the same time. This is nearly as satisfying though, it's really a rush watching him come apart at the seams as I bob my head up and down, his flesh in my mouth.

"Oh God," he groans, his eyes grasping ahold of mine, intensifying the moment, "A little faster sweetheart, please."

I do as I'm told until I hear his breathing elevate, then without warning I release him from my mouth and kiss his hipbone instead.

"Fůck Bailey!" he cries, "Jesus, baby, please."

I've never seen him so voracious he's practically foaming at the mouth. I give him a little smile before kissing back towards his length and up the side of it, kissing the tip before circling my tongue around it.

Harry's legs and arms crawl up and down the comforter the word, "Please," slipping past his lips quietly as if he doesn't have the energy to say it again.

Call me a sadist but I couldn't imagine a sexier sound. I slip his length in my mouth with newfound passion and this time as I hear his breathing escalate and feel his body writhe beneath me I don't move, I keep going, much to Harry's gratitude.

"Oh – God – Ba – I'm coming," his words topple over one another, racing to the exit until the only ones that matter escape freely.

I ready myself, not really knowing what to expect but I'm caught totally off guard when warm liquid shoots to the back of my throat. Immediately I start coughing and as luck would have it his come goes straight up my nose making me choke more. I feel like I'm coughing up a lung, tears are running down my cheeks, my nose is burning ferociously and Harry is dying of laughter. He pats my back but keeps laughing, asking me if I'm okay in between breaths.

As my throat clears up, I push him away from me which only makes him laugh more. I keep clearing my throat and patting my chest until I feel like it's all gone one way or another. I'm so annoyed and embarrassed I don't know what to do with myself.

Harry's laughter dies down as he sees me struggling. "Baby," he coos, prodding my side with his finger. When I don't answer, he tries again, "Sweetheart."

I'm so embarrassed, I turn away from him willing the tears in my eyes to go away. The whole freaking night is ruined.

"Bailey," he says, his tone serious. "Would you look at me?"

I feel his arms wrap around me, pulling me to him, making me feel even more embarrassed and silly.

"Baby are you crying?" he asks, cradling me in his arms.

I feel like such a brat but damn it I'm embarrassed as hell and I feel silly because he laughed at me.

"No," I answer, my tears streaming now that I acknowledged them.

He holds me tighter and I curl into his chest. "Sweetheart I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you. I shouldn't have laughed, I'm an asŝhole. Forgive me?"

I nod my head yes but I'm still too embarrassed to even look at him. My stomach is in knots. I don't know how I miscalculated the moment. I may not know everything about sex but I know enough to know better. I guess that's what I get for teasing him. I suppose it's true, God don't like ugly, as my grandma would say.

"Baby girl, please look at me," he breathes, tracing his fingers up and down my forearm.

"I can't," I admit, "I'm too embarrassed."

"Sweetheart," he chides, "You never have to be embarrassed with me. There's nothing to be embarrassed about, it happens. Besides that, I have never in my twenty-three years of living come that hard. You are amazing and you don't need to be embarrassed about that."

His words are sweet and they talk me into peeking up at him – trepidation be damned.

"There's my girl," he whispers, caressing my face with his fingertips. "I love you more than anything Bailey."

"I love you too Harry," the words fight past the tightness in my throat freeing themselves to fall on his ears.

He smiles at me before leaning down, capturing my lips with his. Our tongues dance together and although I know I've swallowed him down it's still so hot that he doesn't care about kissing me right after.

His fingers grasp my wrists and pull them over my head. "Don't move them," he whispers over my body, his breath prickling my skin as he kisses down my body to the crook between my thighs.

I watch the empty space between my legs slowly fill until my vision is filled with him; his big reassuring green eyes staring up into mine. My heart pumps blood through my veins so loudly I can't hear a thing. I focus in on those beautiful lips of his and follow their every move.

"I'm going to make you forget your name sweetheart. Just lay back, relax, let me take care of you," he says, staring up honestly into my eyes.

So I do.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

What's up my good people!!!!

I hope yall enjoyed the chapter! It literally took me a month to update -______- I'm so annoyed with my life RN it's not even funny lol Thank God this semester is nearly over though so hopefully I won't go M.I.A. again. I hope the chapter was long enough as well!! Thanks for not pestering me about updating I really appreciate yall giving me space to get my life together. I should be writing papers right now but I said eff that my audience deserves a chapter lol I was VERY rusty (like I said it's been a month) and it took me too long to write so I couldn't go back and edit anything so I hope yall still fw it. There are only about 5 chapters left so enjoy HAILEY while you can :(

As always, the chapter is unedited so please forgive any mistakes!!

This chapter's MESSAGE...

YALL ARE THE BEST DAMN AUDIENCE ON WATTPAD *kisses*

This chapter...

Some sassy times then some sexy times pretty much sums it up lol

This chapter's song...

On Top by Trey Songz. First of all, this is the greatest baby making music song of our generation people. Secondly, I had a COMPLETELY different song planned for this chapter (aka non sexy) but because I knew I had the scene at the end to write I listened to this song to put me in the right frame of mind. So basically this song gets slapped on this chapter because Trey Songz is a sex music genius that helps sad inexperienced writers like me find their dirty brain lol Can yall tell I'm sleep deprived yet? Lmao Anywho, this song is SUPER optional it just felt right at the time so yeah!

As for new follower S/O's...

I'm so sorry I can't list you all I'm just too tired but please know I love you all!!!!!

Thanks so much for following and I hope I don't disappoint!

Invite your friends to read and follow and leave me some feedback in the comments!! I love hearing from yall!!!!

Until Next Time,

WBN