Written by: loveinslowmotion on archive of our own

Posted on: April 26, 2016

Description: From a mistaken kiss to a cleverly crafted affair, Harry and Taylor are in the midst of an intense game with more than a few secret little rendezvous in their repertoire.

Official Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6663946

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

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"I just checked in. Give me half an hour."

"Room 603."

"I know. I'll see you soon, babe."

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One knock. Three quick taps. Three slow ones.

There was only one person that could be, and it was exactly who Harry was dying to see.

As soon as he opened the door – only just enough for her to quickly slip inside – the smell of her floral perfume filled his nose, stimulating his senses with a spark of mischievous energy. It was dangerous that scent – it lingered on his own clothes, was worked into her belongings that she "accidentally" left behind. It was most intoxicating when mixed with her sweat.

"Remind me again why I wore these jeans on the flight over here? I tried to curl up and get comfortable and I swear I was going to lose circulation in my legs. Completely impractical!"

Harry knew the feeling, but he also knew very well why she had made the fashion choice. As Taylor swept into the hotel room, her presence dominating the space as if it were her own, his eyes trailed down the back of her. A loose-fitting white top floated over her torso, while black denim clung to her toned legs and reminded the world that she was as equal part supermodel material as she was popstar. It reminded him of what he'd been missing while he was in London and she was in New York, and as Taylor looked over her shoulder and smirked her red lips at his appreciative stare at one of her best assets, he wondered how he'd lasted these last few weeks without having her here in person.

"If they're that uncomfortable, maybe you should take them off," Harry replied casually as he walked over to where she'd stopped on the elaborate patterned rug decorating the cream carpet. The wonder surrounding the grandness of the hotels they stayed at had worn off years ago; now it was all about what they did inside them. For Harry and Taylor, there was never a dull moment.

"I think I might need you to help me with that," she said flirtatiously, and all the tension they'd been building up since they'd last seen each other was relieved when they finally stepped in and pressed their lips together.

Time wasn't something they often had the luxury of, so it was days like these where they took full advantage of the privacy they had. They kissed long and heated, left no inch of skin untouched when they moved into the bedroom and indulged in their forbidden desires. With nowhere else they had to be for hours, they more than happily spent it wrapped up in each other, alternating staring up at the ceiling and admiring the gorgeousness of each other's bare bodies. That was the thing about too often having to be quick: there wasn't time to fuss around undressing and getting everything back on neatly afterwards. It wasn't so sensual, sure, but they certainly made up for it during opportunities like these where there was no chance of anyone walking in or hearing them in the act. Times like these, they never held back.

Almost unfairly, Taylor was awfully good at preening herself to perfection in record time, no trace of having just gotten down on her knees or had her dress hitched up around her hips by a man who was most certainly not supposed to be doing any of that with her. Even now, after she had just been so thoroughly fucked and cuddled within an inch of her life, she carried herself as if she was doing nothing wrong. It was impressive.

"So are you definitely going to come to the after party tomorrow?" Taylor questioned from her spot in the ensuite. She was touching up her hair and make-up, standing in only the underwear she'd slipped back on.

"Dunno," Harry answered jokingly. "Should I come?"

There was a pause, and even still lying on the bed with his eyes closed and his hands tucked under his head Harry could tell she was rolling her eyes.

"I can guarantee you'll be disappointed if you don't come and you see pictures of my outfit later," Taylor assured him confidently, having moved to the doorway to point this out to him. Tube of lipstick ready in hand, she strutted over and cupped his face with her other, stroking her thumb over his cheekbone. "Did I tire you out, baby?"

"Maybe a little," he smiled gently, fluttering his eyes open to see her looking warmly down at him. "Can you stay for a bit longer?"

It was one of the painful, futile questions – "Can you stay?", "When can I see you again?", "Where does he think you are?" – and he got the exact answer he was expecting.

"Not today, babe," she sighed and leaned in to give him an apologetic kiss. "But we'll see each other again tomorrow, okay? I promise."

"Pinky promise?"

"Pinky promise."

Little fingers linked, they laughed at each other. It was ridiculous – they were ridiculous. This whole thing they had going on was crazy and yet it meant so much to both of them, took up so much of their lives and yet they were the only two who knew about it. They'd made the impossible their reality.

After Taylor had dressed and swiped on some lipstick to instantly complete her freshened look, Harry delayed her a little longer.

"I have something for you," he told her, extending out a small jewellery box he had taken out of its safe place in his suitcase while she was back in the bathroom. Taylor looked at him curiously, a little warily too, but she walked over and accepted it without argument.

Inside was an expensive ring, though not quite the kind every girl dreamed of receiving one day. It was a simple and classic design, a white gold band holding a square cut turquoise stone surrounded by a circle of diamonds. Harry liked to go a little understated with his gifts to her, often choosing timelessness over extravagance. He had an eye for picking things she'd like that perhaps she wouldn't think to buy for herself. Exchanging these small things – like the Lanvin clutch he'd last given her and the Saint Laurent boots he'd received in the mail two weeks ago – was a subtle way for them to carry a piece of each other around with them without anyone giving it a second thought.

Rotating the box around to face open at him, Taylor was smiling sweetly as she held out her right hand to him. Harry carefully took the piece out and slid it perfectly onto her ring finger, grinning as she inspected how it looked on her hand.

"Thank you," she gushed as she met his eyes again. "It's gorgeous, Harry, thank you."

Taylor wrapped him up in a tight hug, more than just for the surprise he'd given her. While they at least had tomorrow, there was no telling when would be the next time they would get to see each other again. Secret Skype sessions, as exciting as they could be, could never compare to seeing each other in the flesh. Even then, they couldn't do all the things normal people did, because what they had was far from honest. They were two massive liars, and yet as Taylor thanked him more with a slow kiss, it didn't feel like they were doing anything wrong at all.

"I really should go," she reminded him before she had the chance to properly mess up her lipstick again. "'Til next time?"

"'Til next time," Harry echoed, sneaking one last kiss on her cheek and getting one last smile before following her almost to the door where she saw herself out.

He could almost picture her walking down the hall, taking the elevator down to her room where she would spend the night with her boyfriend.

The only unpleasant pang he felt was jealousy.

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This whole thing had started out as an accident.

Five months ago, Taylor was blissful to have reached the three-month mark with her new boyfriend, relieved to have safely set all lingering feelings for Harry in a tiny locked box in the back of her brain and to be getting on with her life. At least, she'd thought that was the case – all it had taken was one unexpected night together for that resolve to come crashing down.

Neither of them had been aware that they were in the same country, let alone invited to the same party. It had taken them by surprise when they bumped into each other at a swanky house party in London, their reunion a little too over-excited hug that partly had vodka to thank. Their encounter was only brief, with them unable to properly catch up when there was bass thumping and dancing bodies all around. Taylor had been whisked away by another friend, and it wasn't until later that they met again.

It was like the routine of old times when Harry caught Taylor's eyes from across the room, tilting his head towards the doorway and having her give the slightest nod in return. They manoeuvred their ways through the other guests who were still jumping and drinking heartily despite time passed, and with two full glasses Taylor detoured to pick up they found an empty room upstairs to take a break and hide away in.

For someone who had plenty to drink, Harry remembered that part of the night well.

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"When did you get here?" Harry asked when they were settled on the soft carpeted floor. They were in someone's bedroom, and as inviting as the neatly made queen bed looked propped against the olive feature wall, they weren't up for upsetting whoever occupied it by messing it up like they'd taken full advantage of the privacy.

"A couple of days ago," Taylor answered, tugging the hem of her black bodycon dress down as she stretched her long legs out in front of her. "I've got some business to do here."

"Sounds a little sinister, Swift," he teased naturally, a smirk already playing on his lips. "What are you working on?"

"Top secret, can't tell you," Taylor brushed him off easily. She lifted her glass and took a slow sip; she couldn't remember how many she'd already had. Harry watched her dark red painted lips in fascination.

"Can't even give an old friend a little hint?" he pressed innocently.

"No," she deadpanned, "'cause you're younger than me."

And just like that, a stupid joke had them dissolving into giggles.

While their lives had drifted apart for quite some time now, they never had a problem reconnecting. Their personalities seemed to slot together uncannily well, and as wonderful a feeling as that was, the logistic part of Taylor feared her romantic side that could too easily fall into the trap of "could this mean we're meant to be?"

Unfortunately for her, her logistic side didn't function as well when alcohol was involved.

They got to talking for a while, losing track of time. Surely there were people wondering where they were by now, but they'd only been interrupted once and that was by a wasted couple who quickly backed out when they realised the room wasn't vacant. They'd long since finished their drinks and with neither of them wanting to leave each other to refill them they stuck to lounging around, chatting and laughing over nothing important. It was comfortable and relaxed and felt so much like who they once were that it wasn't entirely surprising that they'd both slipped back into that mentality.

Harry had been the one to make the move. He hadn't meant to do it, really, but when Taylor shuffled closer to him as she told him another one of her classic cat stories, smiling at him with that gorgeous enthusiastic grin of hers, all he was thinking was how much he missed her. She'd been so good to him and he'd just let her slip between his fingers. Even after all the times they'd hooked up after they reconciled, he'd regretfully never tried to win her back properly. Now it was too late, she was with another man, but for some quite frankly horrible reason that didn't stop him from leaning in and kissing her.

It was only a gentle kiss, a sweet moment of their lips pressing together perfectly. Taylor should've been pushing him away, should've reminded him of her relationship status and told him he was out of his mind. It turns out they were both crazy, since with a rush of suppressed emotions that one kiss turned into many more.

It turned into cuddling up close to each other, to reacquainting themselves with wandering hands over tight fabric. It turned into parted lips and contented sighs into each other's mouths, to a familiarity that they hadn't realised how much they'd been craving.

It was wrong, but they weren't wrong for each other.

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While they hadn't taken it any further that night, it all escalated from here. Taylor had later told him that she wasn't going to confess to what had happened between them, that it was going to be their little secret. And maybe that was where they had gone wrong: what was more tempting than an illicit romance? It was certainly the most intense and addicting thing they had ever had.

Taylor never talked to him about her actual relationship, and from the first night they'd slept together Harry had decided that he wanted to keep it that way. He didn't want to know a thing, as curious as he was about why she suddenly didn't care about infidelity or hurting anyone. He had pondered it plenty of times – maybe this guy she was with was dull, maybe he was shit in bed and couldn't keep up with her, or maybe he was cheating on her and she was trying to get back at him by giving him a taste of his own medicine – but whatever it was, Harry wasn't going to ask, and there was no way Taylor was going to tell, especially when she didn't really understand it herself.

It hadn't actually taken them too long to seal the deal with sex. A week after the party Harry was relaxing in Miami for a change and suddenly getting a call from Taylor asking where he was staying. She showed up a couple of days later and snuck into his hotel room at night; it turns out she hadn't been able to get their spontaneous kissing session out of her head either.

"I can't stop thinking about you," was the first thing Taylor had declared when she stepped through his door. "You're driving me crazy."

"How crazy?" Harry had asked, because he couldn't keep his teasing mouth shut, not that he gave a damn when he got the answer to that question in the form of an insanely hot fuck on the pristine hotel bed. Every ounce of Taylor's frustration – with him and herself – had been poured into her scratching nails and her hard tugs at his hair and her teeth nipping at his lip and his bare skin, carelessly loud moans fuelling the fire. Taylor hadn't seemed to give a fuck about anything that wasn't the feeling of Harry on top of her, and, well, could you really blame Harry for never wanting to question her desires?

After that came a string of scandalous rendezvous, all crazy intense. Hotel rooms, broom closets, the back of Harry's car parked in the middle of nowhere at 2am – if it was private, they made the most of it. Their houses were too risky – the only action they got there was some Skype sex, which, as it turned out, was quite the adventure. If their texts ever got leaked they were totally fucked, but at least Taylor hadn't followed Harry's lead and sent any career crushing nudes. The best part about all this was that nobody else knew a thing.

Keeping the secret wasn't always the easiest thing to do. On more than one occasion Taylor had almost spilled to her girlfriends, but thankfully had stopped herself every time. She trusted them wholeheartedly, but she wasn't prepared for the reaction she would get if anyone found out she was a dirty cheat. No, keeping it between the two of them was much wiser.

Besides, that way it was easier to pretend that the feelings they had for each other didn't extend past being purely physical. Whenever they were together there was always some sexual aspect, even a lot of their video chats involved something of the sort, but that didn't discredit the true bond they had. They were great friends – they trusted each other, could have plenty of laughs, and were totally comfortable with each other that they could more than happily spend a couple hours together doing nothing. As rare as it was, when they had the chance they did regular things like play card games and chill on the couch watching a movie, Taylor's legs laying across his lap and Harry running his hand up and down her bare calf in simple intimacy. It wasn't all sweat and saliva – their emotions went deeper, and that terrified the both of them.

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The morning – or rather, afternoon – after Harry and Taylor had spent those glorious hours catching up together, Harry woke to a series of SMS reminders letting him know his schedule for the day. He knew how these things went by now, though it was always nice to know he was being looked out for.

After showering and dressing and eating some room service, Harry met up with Niall so they could prep for tonight's award show together. It was less chaos than having all four of the lads get ready together, which was much kinder for their team. They spent a couple hours playing video games in Niall's room, chatting and enjoying simply hanging out with each other again. It had been a few weeks since they'd last seen each other too, thanks to a break in their latest tour. It almost felt like home being here with him.

In true Styles style, Harry's outfit of choice was no ordinary suit. Alessandro Michele had not disappointed, and soon he was hitting up the red carpet with his band mates in a well-tailored Gucci suit in an elaborate and classy print, impressing the collective around them and giving everyone something to blog about. It was still strange to have such an impact on people, but it was kind of liberating, too.

Their position in the front row might've just been all about popularity, but the entertainment factor of it couldn't be passed off. Before the show started, they were already messing around, unable to stop themselves from exemplifying their playful demeanours. Harry, seated between Niall and Liam, was trying to ignore that he had the blonde to his left touching his hair and Louis two seats to his right encouraging it. Needless to say, the group were reprimanded when Harry couldn't take it any longer and started a play fight that was louder than it was violent. They'd never really grow up.

Of course it would never be the best front row it could be without a certain sweetheart shimmying her way unashamedly through the night's performances. Taylor was placed towards the other end of the row, accompanied by best friend Selena and her (supposedly) stellar boyfriend. Harry couldn't help but wonder if he had the same sort of magnetic pull that was making him look over just as she was finding her seat. Something made her notice him too, and she smiled his way, tilting her head in acknowledgement. Harry gave a friendly smile in return, trying his best not to avert his eyes in even the slightest to her date for this evening, who, for the record, was nowhere near as attractive as he was. He was no Harry Styles at all, and it had Harry completely perplexed as to what kind of game Taylor thought she was playing. She was definitely getting the best of both worlds here, while Harry was stuck in a land of "'til next times"s, never having the chance to wake up in the morning next to the girl he loved. If he didn't care so much about being with her in even the slightest way, he'd call it all off.

Sitting through award shows was a combination of honour and tediousness. As amazing as it was to be invited, they all tended to go the same, with exception to the special performances that livened things up a bit. It generally wasn't too hard to pick who was going to win what, heart-warming still to see someone genuinely excited to be recognised for all the hard work they put into their records. It was a tough industry, but at the end of the day it didn't matter how many awards they won when they were making music that meant something special to a lot of people. There was no greater reward than bringing light into someone else's life.

By the time the event was through, One Direction had two more statues to add to their shelf and they were all itching to get out and celebrate the rest of the night away, even if they weren't doing so as a four. Louis and Liam had already planned to go off together, while Niall had decided to go with the flow, pick the rest of his night spontaneously. That was how they'd wound up doing their typical duo split.

Once the crowd had started to shift, Taylor had taken the opportunity for some casual public contact.

"Hey, congratulations," she grinned a red lip smile as she appeared in front of the group, now up from their seats and mingling around until things quietened down a bit.

Harry got in first, which, really, was expected of the other lads. "Congratulations to you too, love," he said of Taylor, unsurprisingly, taking out almost all of the categories she was nominated for. She'd accepted each with her well-known enthusiasm and appreciation for the people who had put her there.

With a quick hug, Harry was left longing for later while she did the same with the others. Even the thought of it gave him a small spurt of adrenaline, a taste of what was to come.

"Where are you guys off to now?" she asked conversationally, and Louis replied with where Team Lilo was headed. She nodded and wished them a good time, her gaze gliding back to Harry with a smile he knew well. "What about you?"

"Dunno. I've got a couple of invites to choose between," he said with mock arrogance, the tilt of her head and the glint in her eyes exactly what he was going for.

"Do you want an even better offer?" Taylor tempted, and he gave a slight shrug as if he hadn't been hooked on it when she'd suggested it weeks ago.

"I like your ring, by the way. Very classic," Harry complimented slyly. Purposely she was fiddling with one of her earrings just to show off the sparkling turquoise that was remarkably still on her finger.

"Thank you, someone special gave it to me," she replied gracefully, the others assuming the person in question was her beau. "I'll text you the details," she continued, glancing to his left. "Niall, have you got plans?"

"I do now," he chuckled, happy to be included in on it when he enjoyed both of their company.

"I'll see you two later then," Taylor smiled her departure, leaving Harry with three sets of curious eyes on him.

"What?" he shrugged it off, none of them daring to ask the age old question of "Do you still like her?" when A), it was pretty easy to tell just by the way he looked warmly at her, and B), because last time one of them asked it had resulted in Pouty Harry making a reappearance, and no one wanted to see him like that again. It was easier just to let him pine from what they thought was a safe distance.

Harry always wondered if they had some idea of what was going on. They did spend so much time together after all, and there weren't many secrets between them. As completely weird as it was for Taylor not to confide in her friends, it was strange for him too. They must've noticed how his mood changed in the few days after a meet up with Taylor, how he still had that charge of electricity running through his veins from doing something so exciting and so forbidden. Maybe they just assumed he'd had a particularly saucy hook up with someone, anyone. They wouldn't be wrong.

It should've concerned Harry that Niall was going to be around, but he was actually embracing it. With him there, at least he knew he was going to have a good time in between all the fuss of scouting a hiding place and waiting for the perfect moment(s) to escape off with Taylor. Waiting around wasn't the most fun part, especially not when Taylor had her own company in tow.

Now that should've concerned Harry. The thought of having Taylor's boyfriend at the same party should've freaked him out so much that he'd insist they couldn't do it here, but he was past all that. Horrendous, huh? The idea that someone could be so numb about fooling around with someone else's girlfriend while they were around was astounding, the opposite of how anyone expected Harry to end up. If anything, the added danger of it only amplified the thrill.

It was really all about that moment of ecstasy, wasn't it? That incredible feeling of invincibility when they got away with something they weren't supposed to. It was one that wouldn't dull; Harry remembered the first time they had snuck off together at a party after this started. Shutting themselves in a laundry wasn't the classiest, but Harry had lifted Taylor up onto the top of the washing machine and kissed her like it was the only think in the world he wanted to do (which, FYI, it was). They had been out of practice with each other, giggly as they figured out the routine of un-buckling his belt and slipping off her underwear and trying to keep quiet again. They'd done this sort of thing when they were dating and occasionally in the years after it, but it was different now. Now they had more to lose.

* * * * *

By the time Harry and Niall arrived at the party after a stop to get changed, it was already going off. A DJ blasting a remixed Rihanna track had everyone up on their feet, a sea of bodies bopping and grinding like nobody's business. If there was one thing A-listers knew how to do well every time, it was throw a killer party.

The bar was buzzing, though they managed to get served fairly quickly. Harry tried to focus on the cold liquid sliding down his throat instead of whether or not his phone was actually vibrating in his back pocket or if it was just the pumping bass reverberating through the room. He could be stupidly impatient sometimes, scanning the mass of bouncing heads for the blonde bob he'd came here for. No such luck, with that or with getting a text back.

Instead, Harry and Niall found some other people they knew on the outskirts of the crowd and tried to engage in conversation despite the difficulty in hearing. They drifted around, from dance floor to bar to the adjoining lounge they'd discovered which was a more relaxed zone, if you ignored the few couples pawing at each other on some of the couches. The pair had buddied up so much that finding a secret spot for later had slipped Harry's mind.

That was until he got a message from Taylor.

Text: from T

Shots with Swift! Coming to a bar near you soon

A smile he couldn't hide tugged at his lips, and he nudged Niall with his elbow, startling him out of the conversation he was having with a couple of other guys. "Wanna get some more drinks?" he asked pointlessly, the answer an obvious yes.

On their way back to the bar, somebody got a hand on Harry's bum and he wasn't entirely convinced it was accidental, but what the hey? He had some good alcohol in him, he was enjoying himself, and he was horny anyway. Carpé dium.

They found Taylor and her gang taking up one end of the bar. Niall seemed to find it a happy coincidence they were bumping into each other now, and Harry praised all the beer he'd already downed that stopped him from joining the dots. He also thanked all for his for erasing the intimidation of marching straight up to her and her tight group of friends.

"Wondered when we'd see you again," Harry called over the music, sliding his arm casually over Taylor's shoulders as he slunk in beside her. Really he wanted it around her waist, guiding her in close and landing them in a kiss. There was no room for those kind of fantasies in their world.

"You didn't look hard enough on the dance floor," Taylor told him, turning her head to look at him with smoky eyes that made the blue especially shine. Her classic red pout had consequently been replaced with a nude lip that wouldn't smudge so obviously, and Harry thought that maybe he should stop staring at her mouth before one of her friends noticed.

When Taylor called "Can we get two more with that?" to a bartender who was lining up their tray of shots, the boy banders found themselves immersed in the group of musicians/actresses/models/their plus one men. They gulped down two rounds of vodka shots before the girls disbanded with high pitched squeals into the dancing crowd when an all too familiar beat started coming through the speakers. They were quickly Shaking It Off, screaming the lyrics and dancing like they were at a slumber party instead of a wild awards show after party where one of them was actually the real singer. It was amazing how everyone else shifted too – the body rolls were replaced with jumping and hair flipping, proof that wasn't even necessary to know the track was pure fun.

Some of the others requested new glasses, while Harry tried not to be too blatant in watching Taylor. She hadn't been wrong in yesterday's comment about him wanting to see her outfit of choice – a black romper with shorts that only just covered her, long sleeved and deeply V-necked. It was edgy, a bit more than he'd been expecting, but with her tussled hair and a figure to die for, there was no doubting that she pulled it off incredibly well.

Now if only they could've been here together, because it would've gone perfectly with his sheer button down and skinnies (and his own tussled hair, for that matter).

While it might've seemed difficult for both of them to get away without arousing suspicion when they were now hanging around each other, they were well practiced in the art. It was natural to drift around at a party, so when Harry found someone else who wanted to talk to him, it was no big deal. He gave Niall a bit of a nod before taking off with a guy he sort of knew from another party they'd both been at not long ago. He sipped at a cocktail he didn't really need in the lounge until he got the magic message.

Text: from T

Upstairs there's a room at the end of the hallway with a killer ensuite xxx

She didn't need to tell him to hurry.

Downing the rest of his drink, Harry politely excused himself to go to the bathroom – the timeless manoeuvre that never failed to work for them. He wormed his way back through the party, trying to make it back to the foyer where he recalled a staircase leading off. He bounded up on long legs, walking down the near empty hall and slipping into the right room, thankful to find no one had taken to it during his journey up there. With their secret knock, he was let into the adjoining ensuite almost immediately.

It was a fancy one alright, with sparklingly clean everything (most guests were using the bathroom downstairs) and stunning fixtures. There was more than enough space – the benefit of luxury – and plenty of opportunity for a pair like them.

Harry didn't get to admire it for long, since he was soon locking lips with Taylor, who tasted like lipstick and liquor and liveliness and it was all Harry wanted. He hugged her waist and she cupped his cheek, together moving away from the secured door until they bumped into the counter, intensity already taking over so that their bodies coursed with the reckless adrenaline that came with getting away with an affair.

It didn't take long for Taylor to slide her hands down his chest and reach for his belt, wasting no time in tugging his jeans down around his thighs and palming him through his underwear. Harry immediately groaned into her mouth, pulling back only slightly to start to say. "'Ve got one–" before she cut him off with another kiss.

"I've wanted to do this since I saw you earlier," she admitted quickly, disappointing him a little when she added, "And I can't let you take this off me now."

"Why'd you wear it then?" he asked in confusion, sure that she would've known in advance that wearing an all-in-one was too risky for their business.

And she did know that. She'd done it on purpose, just to make it more valid when she said, "'Cause we're going back to your room later," before promptly pulling down his pants and dropping to her knees, taking him in her mouth with hasty enthusiasm.

Now, Harry had considered this many a time when he was alone at night with nothing but a tub of lube and his right hand, and he was exquisitely torn between which of Taylor's blow job techniques he loved most. There was like how she had done it yesterday where she teased him a lot, looking up at him as she drew long strokes of her tongue with a twinkle in her eye. She was painfully good at taking it slow and was well versed in giving him exactly what he wanted. Just like how she knew now, only this time she intensified it with fast swirls of her tongue focusing on the head, while she had one hand on the base of his cock and the other massaging the small of his back with her fingertips. Mostly it was a draw – he used both kinds of memories liberally. Besides, where was the need to pick a favourite when both of them had him reaching the edge like no other?

So now, as Taylor worked wonders with her tongue, Harry found it infinitely difficult to keep quiet. That was always the struggle that they faced, and it was damn well that neither of them minded having a hand clamped over their mouth to muffle their sounds. If anything, it was kind of an added turn on (even that time they were in someone else's bathroom and Taylor had accidentally bit down particularly hard on Harry's fingers when he was going at her from behind and he almost completely blew their cover with a loud reaction).

With her hands wonderfully preoccupied, Harry pressed his balled fist to his lips, his face scrunched up like he was in pain rather than pleasure. They were fluent in each other's body language, so he needn't give any warning when he couldn't take it anymore and he spurted a mouthful of come that Taylor swallowed in satisfaction.

Pushing herself back up, she kissed him with her lips parted so he could taste himself on her. As always Harry never wanted to let her run off again, especially not after she whispered with hot breath in his ear, "I can't wait to make you do that again later, baby," but he couldn't stop her from walking out that door after she planted a kiss on his cheek and gave him another "'Til next time."

* * * * *

Despite their lack of face to face planning, Harry and Taylor managed to later slip away back to his hotel room unnoticed. They'd gotten away with their cheeky meeting without anyone questioning where they'd been, and it was almost too easy for Harry to let Niall know he was heading in for the night long after he'd re-composed himself in that bathroom. God knows what Taylor said to get herself back to the hotel unaccompanied, but Harry wasn't going to ask.

No, Harry was stuck in his room by himself for over half an hour, since leaving and arriving at the same places too close to the same time could raise eyebrows if they were caught by any paps, so one of them was always left playing the waiting game. He lay on the rug and ate some grapes from the fridge while the time passed, in danger of falling asleep if she took too long. That had happened a few times, actually, with knocks on the door or his phone going off near him surprising him awake and making her laugh when he let her in and she saw his sleepy eyes.

It was nice when things were normal like that, like how when Taylor eventually arrived now they didn't jump straight into things again. Instead, she stepped out of her heels and stretched her limbs before falling into a simple hug. She noticed the bowl on the floor and asked what he had been up to, and they sat down and finished off the last of the fruit before Taylor crawled onto his lap and kissed him.

From there, they found their fervent rhythm easily, still on a time limit. They fumbled out of their clothes and told each other the things they hadn't had the chance to.

"I loved your suit tonight."

"You looked amazing in that dress."

"I couldn't stop thinking about you."

"Thank you for the blow job."

"Thank you for always looking so handsome."

"Fuck you're wet, Tay."

"Told you I've been thinking about you."

"What do you want, baby?"

"You."

With Harry lying on his back, the soft rug cushioning underneath him, Taylor groaned when she sat down on his hardened cock. She started rocking himself on him, feeling every inch of him deep inside. Well-endowed he was, Harry loved watching her like this, loved seeing her in control of their enjoyment. She loved it too, for the feeling of being able to get exactly what she wanted and for how much pleasure she knew he got out of having her ride him.

Caressing her hips and her thighs, Harry moaned as Taylor found a steady rhythm with her hands on his tattooed chest for support, the band of her ring cool against his skin. Her breasts bounced with every movement and Harry's gaze was understandably transfixed, until she bluntly pressed her thumb to one of his nipples and his eyes squeezed shut and he inhaled a sharp gasp.

Taylor slunk forward, forearms resting either side of his shoulders as she leaned in to kiss him, their tongues sliding together as their bare bodies moved against each other. It was wet and hot as Harry's hands wandered her smooth skin, stopping to pay special attention to her breasts while he had the chance. He was rewarded by her moans reverberating in his mouth, though he soon had her lips moving to his neck and sucking a bruise where she knew made him weak every time. Every time was also a cruel reminder that he couldn't leave a mark on her perfect skin without it ending in disaster. She could get away with doing anything to him, bruising and scratching, and it would hardly matter at all.

See, this whole thing was a crazy power trip for Taylor. Taylor was the one who had come to him after that first night, the one who better organised how and when they could meet up next, the one who had him so wrapped around her finger that he wouldn't bat an eyelid at her any request. He was always at her beck and call, would do anything just to talk to her let alone sleep with her. Her boyfriend wasn't the only one she was manipulating with the fantasy that she cared about him and only him – she'd somehow crafted a vision for Harry that was somewhat similar, one that made him think that there was real hope that one day she was going to leave her relationship and start a proper one with him. And maybe that was true, maybe they would get their happily ever after. But right now she was the head of a wicked game that didn't have an end in sight.

With Harry's hands having glided down to squeeze at her ass, helping guide her harder in her continued movements, Taylor pushed herself back up to get her proper bounce back. She quickened her pace mostly for his sake, emitting an unexpectedly loud cry when Harry's thumb moved from her thigh to rub circles over her clit to make sure she was stimulated enough, too.

"Harryyyy," Taylor whine as she shifted her hips slightly for more friction against his thumb as she bounced. "Ahh– ah, fuck–"

"You're so good, baby," he encouraged, meeting her with tiny thrusts up of his own. He was so close by now but he needed to know she was there with him too.

Mere seconds later Taylor was arching her back and moaning in ecstasy, her orgasm hitting her just as hard as his did as it was swept out from underneath him just looking at her, maybe a little more so from having to wait so long. She stayed sitting on him while she caught her breath, running her hand through her hair with shaky fingers. She smiled when she realised he was watching her in admiration.

"You're incredible," Harry sighed almost dreamily, correcting himself from moments before.

Taylor leaned back in to kiss him, gentle this time. "You are," she whispered before rolling off him and glancing around at their discarded clothing. She was flying back to New York tomorrow. It could be weeks more before this happened again.

As if sensing what she was thinking, Harry sat up and softly kissed her shoulder, closing his eyes as he rested his head against her. They let themselves take in the quiet moment, the sweetness after what they'd just shared proving what they refused to admit.

They really cared. They cared so damn much about each other, they'd created this twisted world where they could actually be together in some way. It was so much more than some dumb affair that was built on purely physical attraction. They were two people who had failed to cultivate their romantic relationship and were now destroying another. They'd fallen in love years ago, but oh no, they couldn't admit that, especially not Taylor. The second one of them caved and confessed, it wouldn't be just a bit of fun anymore. It would be all too real. Neither of them were ready to handle that yet.

So Taylor slipped back into her clothes and spent a couple of minutes in the bathroom, while Harry put his underwear back on with every intention of taking them off again and diving into bed as soon as she left. He waited on the couch and followed her when she went to retrieve her glittering shoes, having a moment of déjà vu when she pulled him into a lasting hug.

"I'll text you when I land," she whispered into his hair, inhaling the familiar scent of his shampoo.

"Have a safe trip, love," he wished.

One tight squeeze before they broke apart, their eyes locked and they smiled as they gave their departing promise.

"'Til next time?"

"'Til next time."