The Road Trip Edit
Song: 'Dancing on the Ceiling' - Lionel Ritchie
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I landed on American soil precisely 38 hours ago and my feet have not yet touched the ground.
As soon as Gemma and I pulled up outside Harry's LA home, he literally flew out the front door and raced down the steps, taking two at a time. He yanked me out the car and hugged me so tightly, sighing into me with relief. With Harry in between us and his arms around both our shoulders, the three of us ventured inside. He could not contain his broad smile at what he called his 'special cargo' arriving safe and sound. It was corny but adorably cute all at the same time.
He then proceeded to talk non-stop for over an hour. His verbal diarrhea was only silenced to give me kisses; something he did a lot and often mid-sentence, after which he forgot what he had been talking about and went off on another tangent! In the end, Gemma suggested we definitely needed to get a room! Never before have I felt so missed and so cherished, a fact I told him when we finally sunk in between his sheets later that night.
Despite dozing on the flight, I was tired and he was so comfy that I ended up falling asleep tangled around him. The sound of his deep sexy rasp was still recalling what he had been up to during the time we had been apart. He seemed to have forgotten about the fact that we had talked every day but his enthusiasm was genuinely infectious!
My slumberous luxury did not last long because I woke in the middle of the night. I relished the moment to rest on my side and admire him. He looked so peaceful in sleep. His head was tilted to one side and relaxed purrs escaped his lips. His hair has grown longer during the month we had been apart and his curls lay haphazardly over his pillow. I enjoyed soaking him in until he stirred and his sleepy croak brought me out of my daydream. He knew I was tired earlier and I was impressed with his self-restraint but the lustful look in his eye when he half smirked and his dimples dipped in, I could not resist peppering him with kisses. Despite our weeks apart, our coming together was not desperate and sloppy. It was sleepily sensual, re-exploring every ounce of each other with curious fingers and greedy tongues. We lovingly tempted out each other's satisfied release with me moaning into Harry's mouth as he pulled at my hair and devoured my lips between his. Reuniting with Harry was nothing short of incredible.
Waking up in his home is a beautiful experience. The surroundings are an extension of his personality. The truth of the magic that waits inside is not at all evident from the street. From the outside, the residence appears as though it is understated and small but it is deceptive. Once inside, the whole house opens up to glossy, glass, wood, minimalist open spaces that contrast to the garden that is a contradiction of an overgrown but manicured jungle of vibrant colour. I feel like Jane to his Tarzan and the rate his hair is growing, he will look like Tarzan soon! He laughed at the analogy as he kissed me awake.
Harry had to attend a meeting about the tracks to be included on the new album so Gemma and I began day one browsing around The Original Farmer's Market before grabbing early lunch at Marmalade Café. Afterwards, we jumped aboard The Trolley; the shiny green and gold 1950s Boston style streetcar. My boots scuffed along the red oak boards before we climbed one of the two spiral staircases that lead up to the upper deck. As the 'car' wobbled along the rails towards The Grove and the afternoon of shopping that awaited us, we managed to grab the last two seats upstairs as we giggled like schoolgirls.
We indulged in retail therapy galore. The most important purchase of mine was for Harry to say thank you for my trip. With difficulty deciding, I perused the stores and settled on a Swarovski, twisted black leather bracelet with infinity pendant. Gemma thought it was original and for me, it represents perfectly everything that is us right now. Of course, I had to step inside Barnes and Noble because, well, you just have too and on Harry's recommendation I treated him and me at Kiehl's. We passed American Girl Place and I could not resist a sneak peak. I have never seen anything like it. If I ever have a daughter I will go back there to buy her a doll. I walked around in a daze with my mouth open in a mixture of wonder and horror at the bizarreness of it.
It was late afternoon as we headed back. Harry messaged to say sorry but his meeting had overrun and he would be home later than planned. So with Sprinkles cupcakes to go, we returned back to Harry's, kicked our shoes off our weary feet and enjoyed tea and our sweet treats by the pool. I made a mental note that if I keep eating like this whilst I am here I will not fit into the clothes I have just purchased. We both then enjoyed a dip in the pool before preparing a light supper just as Harry walked in. He seemed tense about something but I decided to leave quizzing him about it until another time.
The following day Gemma went out for lunch to catch up with a friend who happened to be visiting LA from New York, leaving Harry and I to enjoy a lazy day together. Our month apart catching up continued in more ways than one and guaranteed the day flew by. That evening, we had dinner reservations at Il Ceilo.
Loving an excuse to dress up, I took the opportunity to wear one of my new purchases. As I was struggling to do up the lace dress, Harry came in to change. He immediately took over zipping up duties but not before kissing all up my back and tingling my skin as he went. He hugged me from behind, pulling me into him and caressed my neck with his lips. His eager hands fondled at my breasts as his grip then tightened around my waist. He had spent the whole day indulging me in affection but if we went there again we would miss dinner. Reluctantly, I to stopped his eagerness in its tracks but not before reminding him there was always later!
We ate dinner under the stars at Il Ceilo. His choice of restaurant was perfect; the food was devine, the wine absolutely delicious and the dancing intimately seductive. Even though the restaurant was full, the whole evening felt like it was just us alone surrounded by empty tables. All the sensuality of the previous evening faded away, replaced with passionate intensity and if I could have jumped him there and then, I would have done. We just about managed to make it home without acting on the sexual tension that was raging between us both. In his haste to get naked, Harry broke the zip on my dress but it held little consequence because we were making up for lost time and nothing was going to get in the way of that for either of us.
This morning I woke with bright sunshine streaming in through the vast windows. My head rested on his chest as I watched my fingers circle patterns across the softness of his skin. He smiled and apologised that I had unpacked all my clothes but that I needed to pack a bag as we are going away for a couple of nights. I rested my chin on the back of my hand and stared at him. He rolled over on top of me and kissed me deeply, flushing my cheeks with contentment. I tried to quiz him about the location then tickle it out of him but his lips remained puckered for kisses only not divulging surprises.
And here we are. We set off after breakfast that was actually later than planned because Harry joined me in the shower that lasted until the water ran cold and he had satisfied me again! Flying on a wave of happiness, I packed a small bag as requested and with water and snacks in hand for the journey we set off.
Today is stuffily warm but the air-con in the Range Rover keeps the temperature cool at a steady even flow. Harrys tells me to get comfy because the estimated journey time is 2 hours and 45 minutes. As soon as the car is in drive, his hand rests on my thigh. When we are together, wherever that might be, he always has part of himself connected to me. Even sat opposite each other at dinner last night, his legs extended under the table and he sandwiched my foot in between his boots.
We drive away from LA on the US-101 past Calabasas, Thousand Oaks, Camarillo and Ventura. Once the heavy traffic has dissipated, the car follows the road that runs parallel along the coastline towards Santa Barbara. All I can see is the glistening ocean and stunning stretches of beaches. Harry says cannot wait to share with me the little hidden coves he knows but they will have to wait for another day. The sea out of my window is a glorious shimmering blue as is the sky out of the panoramic sunroof. I relax back into the leather seat, sunglasses on, the radio down low playing old tunes as Harry taps the steering wheel with his fingers. We are just happy 'being' together in silence as the wheels rotate on the tarmac and it is so relaxing. However, I sense his pensiveness and in this quiet moment decide to broach it with him.
"What's up?" I ask outright squeezing his hand under mine.
He turns his head to glance across at me, his eyes hidden by his Ray-Bans. "Nothing, why?"
I shrug now unsure of my instincts. "You seemed tense after your meeting."
He smirks a little. "Perceptive! It was long and drawn out by too many people being in attendance and giving their two pennies, or rather should I say, two cents worth of opinion."
I snicker at his little joke. "Did you reach agreement on the album tracks?"
He sighs. "Yes, but getting there was painful. We've got 23 possible tracks for max 12 spots on the standard version and 16 spots on the deluxe version."
"But you agreed in the end?" I question.
"I wouldn't say agreed, it was more like concede. None of Zayn's songs made the cut. He became so angry that he stormed out of the meeting." I can see Harry's frown forming on the bridge of his nose just thinking about it.
"Oh. Why were none included?" I ask feeling it should be obvious but really having no clue.
"The team were not backward in coming forward that his contributions were not '1D' enough. His songwriting is brilliant but evidently it doesn't meet the 'chosen audience dynamic'. I felt sorry for him but we all tried, especially Liam, but we failed to convince the team." He sounds defeated.
"You do surprise me. So you don't have complete creative independence then?"
"No, not absolute independence. At the beginning when we were novices, I deemed it ok to listen and learn but it is getting to the point now where we want that independence but it doesn't appear to be as forthcoming as we would like." He sighs resignedly.
"Have you spoken to Zayn since he left the meeting."
"Yes, on my way home last night. He had calmed down but I'm worried because this isn't the first time this has happened. He seems detached."
"How do the others feel, do they share your worries?" I feel as though I am bombarding him with questions but he is clearly happy to share it with me.
"They feel much the same as me. Louis is meeting Zayn for lunch today and is going to talk to him. He'll let me know later. Anyway enough of this, I am sure it will all work out. Time to enjoy some down time with my girl." Harry smiles across at me.
"Oh, so I am your girl now am I?" I tilt my head with attitude.
"Always." I caress his thigh with my fingers, stroking them a little bit higher than he can clearly handle as he drives along. "If you keep doing that I am going to have to pull over and have you by the roadside and then we might get arrested for indecent behaviour."
I throw my head back and giggle. "Sorry, I can't help it. I am so happy-." My sentence is interrupted by the radio as Lionel Ritchie 'Dancing on the Ceiling' streams through the speakers. "Turn it up please!"
"What, Lionel?" Harry gasps in jest!
"Yes, yes, Gemma and I danced to this at the Dancing Fountain at The Grove yesterday. We got so many funny looks but we didn't care, we had such fun." I slip off my shoes and pop my feet up on the dash, rotating my shoulders to the beat and fist pumping the air as I wiggle my bum dancing in my seat.
Harry laughs out loud at me. "What are you like?"
I slip my sunglasses down onto the end of my nose and raise my eyebrows at him. "I am your girl and you love me, that's what I am like." Then I pucker my lips and blow him a kiss.
"Can't argue with that, it is all very true." He beams switching his eyes back to the road.
'What is happening here?,
Something is going on,
That's not quite clear,
Somebody turn on the light,
We're gonna have a party,
It's starting tonight.'
I give Harry my best model pout as I clap my hands in time to the beat. He shakes his head and beams at me disbelieving.
"You love it!" I lean over and kiss his cheek.
"Yes I do and I love you, lots."
Before we reach Santa Barbara and more traffic, we decide to stop off at the seaside town of Summerland for refreshments. The Beach Café is a charming and rustic Victorian home offering home cooking and a friendly service. We sit at a table on the outside patio under the vast trees that welcomely shield us from the sun and enjoy the smell of the sea being carried on the gentle breeze.
I opt for a simple bowl of soup whilst Harry selects Todd's Amazing Fish Tacos and proceeds to protest loudly when I pinch some of his homemade chips. No one bothers us at our table but when we get up to leave a few fans approach us in the car park. They politely ask Harry for pictures that he obliges. As I turn to head back to the car he does not release my hand but rather pulls me back and introduces me to everyone. The group is mostly friendly, all apart from one girl who looks daggers at me. Harry notices and with his hand firmly gripped around my waist he whispers into my hair, "just ignore it."
We set off again passing through Santa Barbara where we lose sight of the ocean for just a little while. It quickly comes back into view and I marvel at the sheer beauty of the calm water. We enter the Gaviota Tunnel that shields us from the blazing sun for a moment and cools the car down. When we emerge out the other side, we are driving away from the coast and the landscape changes to fertile green expanses of flat ground. When we reach Buelton, we turn off onto Route-246 and half way along the road when Harry indicates right, all becomes clear.
The simple sign on the roadside states 'Lompoc Winery & Vineyards.' He has brought me to my idea of heaven in a glass; Californian wine country.
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