Song: 'Happy' – Pharrell Williams

-*-

What a week! My back rests against the wood and at the sound of the lock click, I close my eyes and breath a sigh of relief.  Despite my head swimming from information overload, I have survived week one, have made a good impression and I am still in one piece. Giving myself a mental pat on the back, I smile and push off the door to head toward the stairs.

Despite Fridays being office dress down, I change out of my uncomfortably tight jeans and into some slob around clothes.  I am just skipping back down the stairs when Harry texts to confirm he will be back within the hour.

First thing first is to pour a much needed glass of Viognier then quick scan inside the fridge for supper inspiration.  For some unknown reason I was unable to face all of my Harry homemade salad at lunchtime and the 'white wine effect', as Harry calls it, kicks in immediately!  I turn on the radio and blast out some seriously out of tune vocals to Pharrell Williams whilst throwing crazy dance moves around the kitchen.

I am so completely lost in my own little world that I do not sense Harry arrive home until his arm is around my waist. He pulls me to shadow his body and I flop my head back on his shoulder.

"Hello gorgeous, someone has clearly had a good day at work," he mumbles through his lingering kiss on my neck.

"I did but I'm happy, happy, happy it's Friday, time to relax! Did you have a lovely day?"

"Hmm, it was productive.  What's cooking, smells amazing?" He rests his chin on my shoulder to survey the assortment of pans on the range.

"Pan seared tuna steaks with avocado, soy, ginger and lime, noodles and stir fry veg," I reel off the ingredients I am about to cobble together. 

"Smells great," he hums still caressing my neck, "I'm absolutely starving for food and you."

"Good, it'll be ready in about ten," I chuckle, becoming increasingly giddy at his amorous intentions. 

"Is that the food or you?"

"Your are insatiably distracting," I giggle whilst staring down towards the avocado I am trying to chop but failing because Harry's tongue has joined in his party on my neck. 

Reluctantly, I shrug forcing his lips from my skin.  Rather than pull away, his arm rises over my shoulder to hold in front of my eyes, on one finger, the handles of a bag.

"Happy one week at work anniversary and before you argue, it's just because I can."

I glance round at him, "But-."

"I said no arguments!" He stresses, squeezing me tighter against him.

I twist in his embrace to look at him.  I wonder, how I am even here with him?  It is a question I ask myself every day and I still have not figured out the answer.

The luxury brown paper-like bag is now sandwiched between us.  Not removing my eyes from his, I fumble around and grab a box as Harry discards the bag on the counter.  It is only now my eyes leave his to look down and I frown at the box then back to him grinning at my reaction.

The words inscribed in white on the lid make it unmistakable about what is inside. My frown switches to such a goofy smile my cheeks stretch until they hurt.

Flipping the lid, the red dust cover inside is soft between my fingers.  Prizing open the drawstring cord, the smell of fresh and new wafts between us. I reach inside and pull out a pair of Christian Louboutin, black Pigalle high heels with the distinctive lipstick red sole.

As shoes go, these shoes are incredible shoes and I am speechless at his gift.  I am so lost for words I simply fling my arms around his neck.

"I hope you like them but if you don't you can exchange them," he chokes out at my thankful hug.

"Like them? I more than like them, this is an amazing gift, you shouldn't have but I love them, thank you."

In my over excitement and much to Harry's bemusement,  the shoes must go onto my feet this minute. Resting my hand on his shoulder for support, I yank off my slouch socks and slide my feet into each shoe like Cinderella. I admire the gorgeous fitting shoes from the front, from the back, from the side.

"Oh Harry, they are amazing." My newfound height brings me closer to his eye level and I pucker a sloppy kiss on his lips.

"I'm glad you like them. Shall I put them back in the box?"

I shoot him a glare, "No! I am going to wear them!"

"What, around the house?" He asks surprised.

"Listen, I know you wear luxury footwear that costs most people's monthly salary but I do not. I plan on enjoying my shoes as much as I can. Anyway, I need to practice walking in the height of them."

He lets out a little chortle, "well ok but don't break your neck will you?"

"Now I know what it's like to be your height," I say, leaning into him to rest against his chest.

He clasps his hand around my lower back and nose rubs us together before pecking a kiss on my lips. "Enjoy your shoes, I'm going to change."

Through stir-fry, more wine, talk about our day and my weekend moving plans, filling the dishwasher and watching some TV, I do not removed my new shoes even when I get into bed which makes Harry throw his head back and howl with laugher.  He pulls them off my feet and places them on the floor beside the bed.

"I draw the line at shoes in our bed Natasha!"

"Spoil sport," I reply with a pout.

-*-

The smell of leather welcomes my introduction to the new day.  A gleeful glance over the side of the bed and I see my gorgeous shoes.

Leaving Harry peacefully sleeping, I rise quietly, grab my book and slip my feet into my shoes before tottering downstairs to make him breakfast.

When I return, he is sat up looking through his phone.  Placing the tray on top of the duvet on my side of the bed, he takes his mug and puts it on his side table. I do the same before grabbing a piece of the toast in one hand whilst continuing to read my book held in my other.

"Morning, thanks for breakfast." Harry slurps his tea.

"Morning," I mutter, resting one knee on the bed and leaning over to kiss him with my buttery lips. "I'm going to shower."

I wander into the bathroom, place my open book face down on the counter and pull off Harry's tee. Reaching to remove my specs before showering, I realise my contact lenses are in the drawer by the bed. Any excuse to carry on reading, I pick my book back up and walk back into the bedroom to get my lens case and another piece of toast, shoving it in my mouth as I turn the page.

"Natasha, what are you doing?" Harry asks, inquisitively.

"Umm, what?  Oh, crucial part of the story, can't put it down," I reply without so much as a look up.

Although I am obliviously engrossed in my book, Harry continues and all I hear is, "you seem very tall today, you're not are you?"

I notice out the corner of my eye that he pushes the tray to one side and sprawls out on his stomach across the width of the bed to peer over my side.

"Yes, there they are, my goodness, she's wearing the shoes," he says to himself. He rolls onto his back, placing my pillow over his face and all I catch is, "help me," mumbled into the silk cover.

"What?" He's now got my full attention.

Harry lifts the pillow off his face to look at me upside down. His head hanging off the edge of the bed dangling his flowing his curls towards the floor.

"Natasha, Natasha, Natasha, what are you doing to me?"

"What are you going on about?" I jut one hip out to the side.

"Stop saying what," he smirks knowingly.  He rolls back onto his front and drags his stare from my shoes, all the way up my body, finishing with an intense meeting of green to brown eyes.

"Natasha, you really have no idea do you", he rolls his eyes and then with a shake of his head, buries his head in his hands.

I take a moment before following his same route. I realise I am standing in front of him, book in hand, toast in mouth, specs on, hair piled up on top of my head, wearing only my Louboutins and my panties.

I let out a small giggle and turn back towards the bathroom unable to resist exaggerating the sway of my hips followed by a manic wiggle of my rear.

"Natasha." Harry's sexy low gravel rings a warning through the air.

I glance over my shoulder and smirk suggestively at him before purposely slow winking.

That is it. I have never seen him move so fast. He scrambles off the bed, nearly falling flat on his face as the duvet gets caught round his foot.  He comes for me at such speed my heels fail to carry me fast enough to escape his clutches. He catches me around the waist, turning a squealing me and pushes me up against the wall. His whole body weight pins mine as both hands cup my cheeks.

"I love and I want," growls from the depths of his throat.

His lips unleash repeated passionate rough kisses that I wantonly return.  Instinctively, my leg hooks up to his hip and he grasps my thigh, sinking his fingers into my flesh then tracing his fingertips down my calf to the shoe.

"I knew these would be a good investment," he coos.

My index finger pushes him away at his chest to cease our frenzied kissing. "So that was your ploy all along was it? I thought you didn't like shoes in bed?" I cock one eyebrow at him.

He stills, leaning forward to hover his lips inches from mine and brush his sexy words across their surface. "Who said anything about the bed?"

The glint in his eye says all it needs and I can only breathlessly whisper, "really?"

"Yes, really," he smirks, dragging my specs down my nose and throwing them onto the duvet.

Motionless under his gaze, my leg slips from his grip and my book tumbles to the floor.  He resumes his relentless kisses, ramming his body against mine.  Teasing fingers stroke up my thighs and tickle against the lace of my underwear.

For the fifth time this week and the second morning, Harry is on a sexual rampage and his readiness grinds against me.  I rest my head back on the wall and close my eyes as I relish in his eagerness to satisfy me.

Suddenly the air switches up an electrically charged notch and he cannot get my panties off quick enough, so he pulls them with such a sharp force that they shred between his fingers.  I push his boxes down, sinking my fingers into his buttocks and rocking my hips to meet him.  He taps my legs to jump and catches me as both legs wrap around him to cross at his back. My head hits the wall with a loud thud when his lips and tongue are desperately running wild again.

He throws his head back, his curls flying free as he fills me.  Gripping his shoulders for dear life, I cry out in both pleasure but surprisingly a bit of pain too.  The feeling of every hungry thrust is so raw. His forehead rests on mine and his hot, quick breaths sweep across my face.

Harry growls my name, pushing me to a suspended state of uncontrollable shaking and shuddering joy.  Every muscle in my body tenses, pulling his ecstasy to release from him to me.  My legs remain around him holding him still there. His forehead falls upon my shoulder and we are both completely out of breath; breathing so heavily, I can feel my heart racing.

I release my grip around him to place my feet on the floor. He pulls away from me but does not let go. He never lets me go afterwards; always pensive, always holding me.

He hugs me to his chest and I run my hand from his shoulder, down over his muscles and tattoos.  My other hand soothes across the muscles in his broad back, feeling their strength. His eyes close as he kisses my hair. Primal animal Harry replaced with gentle loving Harry.

I smile at him as he whispers, "I will never get enough of you," running his hand under a few stray strands to smooth them back off my face.

We both stand still for a moment to  soak each other in whilst our breathing calms back to a simple rhythm.

Our bodies are glistening with beads of sweat from our labours.  Harry grabs my hand and leads me towards the bathroom stating, "let's shower."  As my heels hit the porcelain floor tiles with a tap he laughs, "and no, you can't keep the shoes on!"