Written by: loveinslowmotion on archive of our own

Posted on: November 21, 2016

Description: A risky encounter between a musician and a woman who really should know better.

Official Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8614618

Warning: This chapter contains mature content. Please read at your own risk! :)

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"Morning, Taylor."

The sound of his voice alone was enough to make her smile. Stupid, cliché, whatever. She couldn't help it.

Taylor turned to see Harry's grinning face make its way over and she had to typically remind herself that she couldn't greet him like she always wanted to. Sometimes she wondered what would happen if she was truthful with him and the world, but she knew better than to catapult them into the unsuspecting public. It was her job to know better than that.

"Good morning, Harry," Taylor smiled at him brightly, professionally. "Did you have a nice trip here?"

"It was fine, thank you. Have you had a nice morning?"

"Yeah, it's been good," she nodded; it was better now that he was here, but she wasn't going to say that. She didn't always like admitting it to herself.

Harry and the rest of the band had been summoned to HQ for some meetings, which were unlikely to be all that thrilling for any of them there. At least for a PR girl like Taylor it was more interesting having the band actually there, as opposed to their department's regular office meetings that mainly consisted of their own input that didn't always go down well with the boys. It was kind of exciting having them around as opposed to just faces on a screen, especially for Taylor. God, especially for Taylor.

"Do we have a minute to... talk?" Harry asked her, and as subtle as he was trying to be with his suggestion, his mischievousness was written all over his face. His handsome, drop dead gorgeous face. God.

"I don't think so," Taylor replied, the little smirk on her lips matching his. "Maybe if you had gotten here earlier..."

Harry playfully rolled his eyes. "How about after, then?"

Glancing down at the notebook resting in her arm, Taylor ran her finger down the cover, pretending like she was going over a schedule. "I might be able to squeeze you in," she teased, looking back up into Harry's smiling eyes. They always looked at her so intensely, like she was... different, somehow. It had been quite some time since he had first looked at her like that and she was still trying to figure out what it meant.

"You look really nice today," Harry complimented, his voice going softer, fonder, genuine. That tone killed her every time.

"Thank you," Taylor smiled at him with a touch of shyness. "So do you."

Harry always did. It was like he didn't even have to try, like he woke up every morning looking like some kind of god on earth. What Taylor didn't know was that he had been just as meticulous in his choice of ensemble this morning as she had. His skinny jeans and long-sleeved button-down might have looked like just another one of his everyday outfits, but he had chosen it with Taylor in mind. It needed to be good looking and practical, just like hers was.

In a blouse and neat pencil skirt, Taylor looked like she did at most meetings. She didn't want anyone else to know she was dressing up for any particular reason, especially not today, which was why her efforts had gone more into what people couldn't see. Her dramatic underwear and freshly shaved and moisturised skin was only going to be enjoyed by one other person here, and he was staring right at her.

"We should probably get going," Taylor affirmed, taking a step forward on bright blue heels, the one pop of colour in her monochromatic clothing palette. Harry followed along beside her as she led them down the hall to the office arranged for them.

There were already a few others in the room, and Harry rounded the table to sit on the other side next to Niall, the only one of his bandmates who had already arrived, where he was able to catch subtle glances of Taylor, a sneaky tactic he used every time they were in an appointment like this.

An intern soon did the round of coffee orders, which was definitely needed – it wasn't a fun meeting, to say the least. The team's ideas for the band didn't always suit what they wanted – even Taylor didn't agree that a new perfume (yes, another one) would be all that beneficial for them when surely there were other avenues of marketing they could go down. At least they bothered to ask for the guys' opinions, she guessed, even if they weren't always listened to.

With a welcomed delivery of a plate of fresh donuts from the intern mid-way through, the sugary sustenance offered some relaxation to the room. When Louis asked whether anyone had any new ideas rather than recycled concepts that everyone was tired of, Taylor flicked back through her notebook. She had plenty of better ideas, but in a male dominated environment she was too often cast aside for no good reason – she wasn't strictly in the marketing department and apparently 'should just stick to making sure they looked good'. The American beauty apparently still had to prove herself, despite her obvious intelligence and experience.

Then again, she was fucking a client, so maybe she wasn't as smart as she liked to think she was.

Surprisingly, when Taylor put forward a suggestion that their next lot of merch be a collection of fan-made designs so it was actually what people wanted to buy, she had the band on board with it. It was the only idea they had really gone for, and her proposal – complete with researched artwork that she passed around – that they run a design competition that would actually get fans involved and have their talents recognised was by far the most well-received. The boys liked the idea of them picking the winners out of a shortlisted assortment – Taylor prayed that if they went through with it she would be allowed to be a part of that process, not entirely trusting some of the others to make those decisions, if some of their past stock was anything to go by. All she wanted was to give people what they actually wanted, which didn't seem like such a big thing to ask.

The odds looked to be in Taylor's favour once the meeting came to a close. Anything they did had to get a stamp of approval from head office first, but at least her proposal seemed to have the most support from the band itself, which had to count for something.

"At least someone around here has a functioning brain," Louis muttered when they finally exited into the hall, his smile landing on Taylor.

"I wouldn't hold your breath on them going through with it," she shrugged plainly. "Apparently, I'm just the girl who makes sure you lot don't have any scandals all over the news."

"And you do that well," Louis assured her, something nice to hear for a change. Taylor was always up to date with almost everything the band was and wasn't doing, was quick to spot rumours and knew how to handle them gracefully. She didn't always agree with what the PR team as a whole decided on, which was probably why the boys preferred coming to her with any concerns they had. She actually gave a damn about them and their feelings, and while she couldn't change everything, at least she was someone they could talk to where it felt like their voices were actually being heard.

So it wasn't a surprise to anyone when Harry called from just behind them, "Um, Taylor? Can I talk to you about something for a minute?"

"Sure," she said over her shoulder, the casualness in their open interaction the perfect cover for what they really had in store.

They stood next to each other in the elevator for the short trip down to the next floor. They said quick goodbyes to the rest of the band who Harry would meet again for another appointment later, Taylor reminding them that they could contact her at any time before they stepped out and she led Harry down to her office. The door shut behind them and talking was the last thing on their minds.

At her last job, Taylor hadn't had an office of her own. She had a cubicle in a room with glass walls – she had embarrassingly walked into the closed door on more than one occasion, in front of everyone. Having her own private space with no glass for people to look in and see what she was up to had come as a blessing, one she certainly hadn't expected to take advantage of in the way that she was now.

Harry had her pressed up against the door with his lips desperately on hers. He kissed her so urgently that Taylor was glad to have something stable to lean back against. He was always so intense with her that in these moments it had her believing that he was actually hers and that they were sharing something totally real.

Taylor shortly pushed him back, took him by the hand and walked him over to her desk which she had cleaned earlier, where she dropped her things down on one corner and sat herself down right in the centre. She kicked her chair away so it rolled back against the wall, and Harry stood in the space she made to kiss her again, their hands immediately all over each other and her legs wrapping around his waist to bring them closer. It was hasty and irresponsible and both of them loved it.

Now, Taylor couldn't pretend like she wasn't overwhelmed with an immense amount of guilt after every time she was with Harry like this. In fact, the first time he had tried to make a move on her she had said no. She had politely reminded him that they were working together and he already had a girlfriend. Both were very solid reasons not to let anything happen between them, though apparently not significant enough.

Harry's girlfriend was an actress Taylor had only had the pleasure of meeting just the once. It was before anything had developed between them – thankfully, since Taylor didn't think she could handle seeing her in person again now – and she had said nothing more than a hello to Taylor, ignoring her as if she held no importance just because she wasn't a star. Her first impression had been that, well, she was a bit of an arrogant bitch, but nobody deserved to be cheated on.

Taylor's mind began to change when she learnt that their relationship wasn't entirely legit. Before she had started working there, words had been exchanged between teams and it had been decided that it would be good for both celebrities if the two of them saw each other for a while. Harry didn't need the publicity, but as an upcoming actress looking for more work, being associated with him was sure to boost her profile. It was a shitty arrangement, one Harry had disagreed with right from the start.

It was in this very office that Harry had opened up to Taylor about the whole thing. From the night he had met the girl at a party and they had admittedly hooked up since yeah she was pretty but he hadn't considered dating her, to now, where he really just wanted out because his feelings laid elsewhere. He had openly said that while he enjoyed spending time with her, what he and his girlfriend had was mostly just a sexual thing that he could live without, and his brazen honesty had taken Taylor by complete surprise. He had sat right there, in a chair he pulled up to her desk, and said: "I'm far more attracted to you." Taylor conceded and agreed to have dinner with him at her apartment, where she let him kiss her goodbye for the first time that very night.

Riddled with guilt, Taylor had worried herself physically sick the next morning, went home from work early and replied to Harry's text to decline his offer to see each other again. Once he learnt it was because she wasn't feeling well, he had later showed up at her door with a container of soup like the generous man he was. They sat together on the couch for hours, talking and half paying attention to the TV, and it was that early on that Taylor knew there was no way out. Harry was kind, handsome, determined – all things she wanted in a man. A part of her had known she was going to do the wrong thing with him, but that same part didn't really seem to care.

Taylor tried to redeem herself in her mind by starting things slow between them. Naively she thought that maybe they could be content with just crossing the line with kisses, but she too was finding herself thinking more and more about taking clothes off. What was it like having sex with Harry Styles? She wasn't the first girl to fantasize over the thought and she sure wasn't going to be the last.

The first time they had hooked up had been desperate and really fucking hot. In a storage cupboard backstage at one of the band's concerts, a sweaty, adrenaline-fuelled Harry had hoisted her up against the door after politely asking if it was what she really wanted. With her panties on the floor and his jeans around his thighs, Harry had fucked her hard and fast, leaving Taylor sore and eager for more the following day.

Most of their encounters were like that. They didn't have the time to make it romantic – it was only when they had the sure security of apartments or hotel rooms that they let all their clothes come off and they paced themselves, indulging in the beauty of each other. Taylor's favourite was lying naked underneath him in her bed, feeling every inch of their skin connecting as Harry moved slowly in and out of her, but she would be lying if she said she didn't also love their riskiest of rendezvous.

Like right now, where she had her tongue in his mouth and her hands on either side of his face, Harry's jeans growing increasingly tight as she almost effortlessly turned him on. Taylor would easily lose her job if they ever got caught, but she always seemed to feel invincible with him.

Until somebody knocked on her office door.

Immediately pushing Harry back, Taylor's eyes blew wide, and in a panic she fumbled her way past him into her chair, wheeling it back to her desk while she hurriedly tried to fix her hair. Thank god Harry was just as fast acting, as he moved into a chair on the opposite side of her desk and artfully placed his arm across his lap so it wasn't so blatantly obvious that he had a hard on.

When Taylor called the disrupter in, her fingers distractedly playing with her swollen lips in an effort to disguise them (she had wisely worn a nude lipstick that wouldn't so noticeably smudge), she was relieved to see it was another intern who just wanted to tell her that someone wanted to see her.

"I'm busy at the moment, but I'll find him later," Taylor told the younger girl, mustering up as much professionalism as she could. "Thanks for letting me know."

She slumped back in her chair as soon as the door closed again. That was too close for her liking.

When she noticed Harry grinning at her stupidly, she narrowed her eyes slightly. "What are you smiling at?"

"You're really busy right now," Harry teased her, and Taylor closed her eyes as she tilted her head back and giggled despite herself.

"Maybe we should raincheck until tonight," she considered. At least nobody was going to be walking in on them in her apartment – except for maybe one of her cats, but they didn't really count.

"I thought you liked the danger of getting caught," Harry said with sparkling eyes, laughing at her instant scoffing reaction. "Alright, I like the danger. But I'm sure you do too, you just don't want to admit it."

"Yeah, sure," Taylor replied sarcastically, refusing to admit that he might have a point. "I love the idea that my boss could walk in at any moment and see me on my knees for a client."

Harry smirked, perking up hopefully. "You're getting down on your knees?"

"Since you said that, no," she cruelly decided, crossing her arms over her chest. The action drew Harry's eyes down from her face, and with a quick glance towards the definitely closed door, Taylor took a risk – she was always going to, no matter what she tried to tell herself. Undoing the top few buttons, she pulled her blouse open and took great satisfaction in watching Harry's eyes saucer as he inhaled sharply.

"Christ."

"Do you like it?"

She already knew the answer, but she needed to hear him say it. She needed to see him fidget in his chair and try to figure out words to say just how much he really fucking wholeheartedly liked it.

"Is it new?" he asked.

"I got it for you," she quietly revealed, and the knowledge that he was the only one to have seen her in that red lacy bra that pushed up a gorgeous amount of cleavage only seemed to work him up even more. Harry vaguely moved his hand over the prominence in his pants, jumped out of the chair like it was on fire when she beckoned, "Come here, babe."

Taylor shifted herself back up onto her desk while Harry rounded his way back around, their lips quickly connecting with an eagerness they reserved only for each other. She made quick work of his belt, knowing well that they had no time to waste and that every second between them was crucial. By now, they had quite a good routine of pulling off what they needed to, which was useful if not utterly inappropriate.

Harry cursed under his breath when he rolled her skirt up around her hips and discovered her matching red thong, the delicate fabric sticky with her arousal finding its way into the back pocket of his jeans once he snatched them down her long legs. His fingers rubbed roughly over her centre, his lips acting like they had more privacy than they did as he kissed her exposed piece of chest.

"Harry, please," Taylor whispered hurriedly, not that she didn't adore what he was doing to her. Rather, she wanted to lie down and have him replace his fingers with his mouth, but that was something she could count on later.

"Tay," Harry exhaled back, and as soon as his pants dropped to just above his knees he was grabbing her by the hips and pushing himself into her. No slow and easy build up, just solid rushed thrusts that always had their lips locking in an effort to muffle the sounds that threatened to leave their mouths from such a pace.

While she had made sure he knew this wasn't something she was well versed in, what Harry was unaware of was the extent Taylor risked for him. The list of people she had slept with wasn't very long and was almost exclusively comprised of ex-boyfriends, her desire to hook up with random men she was unlikely to see for more than one night almost non-existent. Intimacy meant something to her, and she wasn't always so convinced that Harry knew just how strongly she felt for him that she was willing to jeopardise her career to fool around with him in the most perilous of ways. She had much more to lose than he did, but she was addicted now. Calling it quits seemed like an unbearable choice.

Harry had shown her a little danger wasn't always a bad thing. He had shown her the blurred line between romantic and sexy through many thorough explorations behind closed doors. He had given her a new kind of daring confidence – the audacious, seductive Taylor that bought expensive lingerie for a man who could only be with her in secret.

She had shown him just the kind of woman he really wanted to be with, but she hadn't figured that out yet.

They danced around that truth: that they wanted something more than what they had. They texted all the time and met in person whenever they could, sneaking around because it was easier than admitting their reality: Harry was having an affair with a member of his PR team, something painfully ironic and oh so scandalous.

But in moments like these, it felt too right to be wrong.

Harry's hands squeezed almost too tight on her hips, his head buried in the crook of her neck and his hot, heavy breaths igniting her bare skin. That alone would've been enough to drive Taylor crazy; the rough snaps of his hips that were sure to leave her sore later guaranteed that Harry was going to be stuck on her mind, as if he wasn't already.

"Fuck, baby," Harry groaned quietly, his inability to ever keep his mouth shut always making her smile, terrified her in some situations.

With the sense of security that they weren't being heard, she felt fine to say, "I wanna change."

In that instant, Taylor hadn't a clue what possessed her to think it was a good idea to push him back and force him onto her desk instead so she could climb up and sit on him. It felt even filthier this way, sure to look absolutely appalling if anyone walked in now, but the utterly thrilled way Harry looked when she started grinding down on him was all that mattered to her.

"I can't wait to have your hands all over me," she told him to urge him on, getting another low moan out of him.

"Fuck me, Taylor."

And that was exactly what she did. With her hands clutching his shoulders, Taylor bounced on him with as speedy a pace as she could manage steadily. She leant in close, moaned softly into his ear, loved his hands grabbing her ass and encouraging her on. Eagerly she rode his lengthy cock right there on top of her desk, fulfilling a fantasy she hadn't realised she even had, had him orgasming seconds after he whined a warning. A few rapid rolls of her hips had her coming around him shortly after, her body shaking as a wave of pleasure suddenly jolted through her.

Fuck, she wanted to do that again. She wanted to do that all day.

She wasn't the only one.

"Fuck me, Taylor; I can't believe you," Harry gasped, and she started to laugh as it dawned on her what she'd just done.

"Me either," she giggled, smiling as he couldn't resist kissing her.

"What was in that coffee?" he teased her.

"Or the donuts."

"Think we could get some for tonight?" Harry joked, receiving a giggly kiss in return.

It was an effort to prise themselves apart. Taylor was the one to break free, carefully finding her feet back on the ground and neatening herself up, smoothing her skirt down and doing up the buttons on her blouse again. The fabric was a bit creased, but she hoped no one would notice. Harry fastened his jeans back up and let her fix his hair for him, her gentle touch one he kept reaching for.

This goodbye shouldn't have been hard. They had already planned to spend the night together at her apartment, and yet Taylor was still left with a too familiar pang of longing when Harry soon kissed her lips softly and disappeared out her door.

She was distracted for the rest of the day. She was more comfortable, at least, after slipping into the spare pair of underwear she had stashed in her bag in case Harry decided to walk off with her pretty ones like he had. With brushed hair, retouched make-up and a fresh spritz of perfume, nobody seemed to pick up on the fact she had been doing anything other than her job. Though, she remembered being told her job was to keep everyone happy, so in a twisted kind of way maybe she was just going above and beyond to achieve that.

When she eventually made it home, Taylor slipped into a slinky red dress that looked almost criminal on her, even more so when she took her comfortable panties off to convince him she had gone the whole day without any on. A pair of black heels and a swipe of red lipstick topped off her look, one that was sure to have Harry in the palm of her hand.

She felt attractive, but there was still that niggling little voice in the back of her mind reminding her all this was futile. Harry was never going to leave his girlfriend for her, and even if he wanted to there was no way it could happen, not unless she left her job, at the very least. She still hadn't figured out just how much she was willing to give up for Harry, wasn't sure she ever would.

The smartest thing she could do was surrender, find someone who she didn't have to hide with. But when Harry eventually knocked on her door, smiled at her so excitedly, said, "I missed you, beautiful," without a single trace of insincerity, Taylor knew she wouldn't.

She might love him, and that terrified her, but she wasn't going to let go until she was sure their story was over.

And it was only just beginning.