Blue

On the last night of the boy’s tour before their month long break, we commandeered one of the Ritz-Carlton Dubai’s six swimming pools for our own, private party. And when I say private, I mean there was a huge sign posted at the pool entrance. And it said: Closed for private party.

And it was flanked by two hotel security guards.

The Ritz-Carlton Dubai was more like a shimmering palace, hued in burnt orange sandstone and stark, crisp whites. The pool area we’d been given was like some kind of wet-dream from my childhood viewings of Aladdin: there were plush, round lounges in the water, heavy with blue and purple silk pillows and, in another area, white silk cabanas and silk cushions for lounging on the ground. Silk canopied chaise lounges and round single seat plush chairs littered the pool area which, in actuality, was separated from the private beach only by a low, stone wall. Music was blaring, people I didn’t know were dancing. There was a huge blue, purple, and white, glass topped bar at one end of the pool, complete with partially submerged stools. And, as if that wasn’t fabulous enough, the Jacuzzi looked like it was fused seamlessly into the pool itself. Harry and I had stayed in several fancy pants hotels since I joined him in Tokyo, but this was the pinnacle of extravagant. This was like being a pearl perched on a mound of silk and draped in satin.

So, of course, I tripped on my flip flops the moment Sophia and I strolled into the pool area.

We were met by a bevy of wolf whistles from the boys, all four of who were already well on their way to being drunk. Which, of note, didn’t seem like a particularly good idea seeing as there were no actual lifesaving personnel around the pool. But Sean, Paul, Mark, and…and….the other guy whose name I never remembered were trying to look casual gathered at a table together. They were good at not ogling or asking questions. I liked that.

“Baaabyyyy!” Harry managed to turn it into a four or five syllable word. He reached his arms out to me, flashing his dazzling smile. “Come to Harry!”

I picked my way around the lounges and pillows, sending a dirty look over to several seats occupied by gorgeous girls I didn’t know (there were too many gorgeous women around to adequately address them all with disdain), and crawled on the circular lounge with Harry. He was dressed in yellow swim trunks that were, not surprisingly, on the tight side, and no shirt. Just his cross necklace, his tattoos, and his sunglasses. Sweet. “So, the fact we’re late is only partially my fault. It’s true I had a difficult time picking out a bathing suit. But those two guards at the entrance? They didn’t believe we were who we said we were. Of note, they didn’t accept our VIP lanyards from the concert. Soph got the manager. I got a cocktail.”

“Fire ‘em all!” He pulled the strap of my bikini top down and kissed my shoulder. “You look fucking amazing in a white bathing suit. Fuck, if I’d known it would look like that, I’d have sent you two shopping together earlier.”

“By the way, you owe Liam two hundred dollars. Apparently the credit card company shut my card off because of suspicious charges. Suspicious as in, hey, wait, she’s not in New Jersey.”

“Liam knew the risk when he sent you two off with his card.” Harry rolled onto his back and pulled me down on top of him. “What kind of drink do you fancy, baby girl? Never mind that, have some champagne.”

I took the champagne bottle from his hands and took a long drink. The bubbles tickled my nose and I giggled, then planted a champagne flavored kiss on his lips. “So, let’s get this out of the way right now. Who are the bitches over there?”

“I dunno.” He shrugged. “Louis is casually fucking the blonde.”

“There’s like, thirty-four blondes over there.”

“Sounds about right for Lou these days.”

“Who’s up for ordering food?” Liam turned so rapidly on one of the bar stools that he nearly catapulted himself into the water. “Come on, I’m not the only fat kid here. Laney. Laney, split an order of fried cheese with me. Does that translate to fried cheese? Excuse me. How much is an order of that one? Is it cheese?”

“As tempting as fried cheese sounds…”

Liam pointed at me. “I’m not entirely sure it’s cheese.”

I chugged more champagne and then pointed back at him, balancing the bottle on Harry’s shoulder. “Nooooo. You forced me into eating that prosciutto and mozzarella pizza with you at dinner and do you remember the look on the waitress’s face? Her smile said ‘charming’ but her eyes said ‘Fatty Mcfat fat.”

Harry ran his hand up and down my ass, kneading his fingertips against my lower back. “You only got upset when she said her personal pizza eating record was three pieces and you ate, what, six?”

“To be fair, you ate three quarters of one piece.”

He started laughing and then rolled me onto my back, burying his face against my throat and holding the champagne bottle out just out of my reach. He trailed kisses across my skin. “And then when Niall refused to eat his meatballs and you said, ‘awesome, more balls for us’ offensively loud?”

“Even that nun in the corner laughed, please.” I squirmed underneath him, trying to snag the bottle from his grasp. “Let them report about that outburst in Teen People or Bop or Tiger Beat or whatever all the cool kids are reading these days.”

He pressed the bottle to my lips and gently poured champagne into my mouth, then put it in his mouth and chugged the rest of the bottle. “J-14 reports that you are ‘quirky’ and ‘unique’ but they find that your style is ‘awesome’ and ‘boho-mod glam.’ They insist that it’s easily achievable even for the strictest budget.”

Niall perked up from his position draped across a chaise lounge, his sunglasses upside down over his eyes despite the fact the sun had long gone down. “Do you always read J-14, Harry?”

“Only to cut out and collect the pictures of you, Nialler.”

“Harreh!!!” Liam had wandered away from his perch on the barstool. “Let’s go down the waterslide.”

“It’s turned off, Liam.”

“Because it’s late, Harreh, not because it’s broken.” Liam sighed dramatically and scanned the pool. “Lou Lou. You in, mate?”

Louis leaned backwards into the water, wetting his hair so that it slicked back neatly over his head. “No.”

Thirty minutes and five bottles of champagne later, Louis and Harry had scaled the three steps to the top of the waterslide. They’d commandeered two plastic water glasses from the fitness center and were, very seriously, dumping water down the slide. I had my doubts that this alone was going to make us…uh…slide on the slide, but I couldn’t stop giggling.

“This is how uncouth rumors get started about you, Mr. Payne.” Sophia crossed her arms in front of her chest and giggled. “You put these nice boys up to this.”

“Oy, no one asked you.” Liam dissolved into laughter so loud, it knocked him off balance and he swayed lightly from one foot to the other, holding onto the side of the slide for balance. “You hear my Missus over there, Harry? She thinks I’m a bad influence.”

“My Missus knows I am.” Harry tossed his cup aside and lowered himself down onto his stomach. “Enough of this nonsense. I’m goin’ for it.”

My Missus? Was he talking about me? I didn’t entirely trust my judgment at that moment, so I brushed it off. I mean, that was weird. And it was weirder to for me to think he was ready to marry me, I mean, we’d been together like, three months and we were both super young but so, incredibly in love and I knew that I didn’t want anyone else but him—ever—not even if I lived to be one hundred and ten…

I was getting tired of listening to myself think and switched my attention to Harry. He pushed off from the slide—

--and squeeeeeeealed his way slowly down towards the water. He came to a complete stop at around two feet from the bottom. “Arrrgh, that was such a bad idea!” Harry squirmed down and slid face first into the water, breaking the surface and shoving his wet hair back. “All my nipples hurt. All of them. Am I bleeding?”

“You’re such a pussy.” Niall crawled up to the top of the slide and sat down, promptly launching himself forward. He immediately stopped and tried scooting forward. The descent to the pool was hilariously slow; coupled with the fact he kept yelping every time he’d slide, I couldn’t stop giggling.

Harry hoisted himself up out of the water and wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me up his body. He was cold and wet. “You need to go down the slide, baby girl. Just don’t involve your nipples.”

I giggled, squirming against him as if I was trying to get away. I wasn’t, of course. And he totally knew that. “Wow, that sounds….the opposite of awesome.”

“Noooo, it was so much fun.”

“Hazza,” I pursed my lips together and ran my fingers through his wet hair, “you asked if your nipples were bleeding.”

“You should kiss them.”

I giggled and swayed against him, running my lips across his shoulder. “Let’s just go party in our room. You and me. Remember, I’m not allowed to do sexual things to you in public. And public is everywhere. It’s like, all over me.”

He laughed and scooped me up in his arms. ”Let’s go upstairs. Right now. Right now.”

“Harry! No!” I shook my head, poking my fingertip into his chest. “I get to go down the slide first. Then you can ravage my body.”

He chuckled again, dipping his head down and pressing his lips to mine. He was drunk. There was something so innocent and sweet about him when he was drunk. His big, green eyes took on this sheepish look and his smile was lopsided. He’d giggle and nuzzle his face against me a lot….that is, until he just got horny and started licking me or kissing me or sliding his hands into my pants. I liked drunk Harry. He was just as sexy and dirty as sober Harry, but he giggled more. “One time. I am so hard for you right now that a paparazzi could photograph it from raft in the middle of the ocean.”

I stumbled towards the slide, almost running into Niall, and slooowly crawled up the steps to the platform above. Louis was standing at the slide and winked at me. “I was going to go down, but you can go first if you wanna.” He was drunk too, but a far less likable drunk than Harry.

“Um, well hey, if you’ve got your heart set on it, don’t let me steal your thunder. Ride that slide.” I had to admit, Louis had beautiful eyes. They were framed by thick lashes that almost made him look like he was narrowing his eyes. The more I thought about it, the more I decided he used this to work to his advantage: he was the sassiest, most sarcastic guy I’d ever met.

He shook his head, his eyes locked on me. “Ladies first. Especially Harry’s lady.”

Ehhhh…..no, he needed to keep that leer to himself. I tried to sprint around him—difficult while drunk on the narrow platform at the top of the slide—and edged towards the top. “Okay, well, thanks.”

As I sat down, Louis caught my upper arm and pulled me back. His voice was loud. “Hey, wait. You need more water or you’ll get stuck. Nialler! Douse it again!”

Niall dumped a glass of pool water on the slide and, as he did, Louis trailed his hands across my shoulders and slowly down my back. I bristled at his touch. The fuck was the matter with him? Was he completely blind to the fact Harry and I were in a relationship?

Maybe he didn’t care.

I jerked away from his touch. “Stop. You’re drunk and I’m not fucking interested.”

“He won’t care.”

“Yeah, well, I care. Fuck off.” I didn’t even want to say anything else to him. All I wanted to do was get away; I launched myself down the slide and then wriggled the last several feet before dropping into the warm water. It wasn’t fun, it wasn’t silly or rebellious or whatever it was supposed to be. I’d never been interested in Louis and he fucking knew Harry and I were together. He knew I loved Harry. So, why? Why did he have to be gross?

Harry was waiting for me at the edge of the pool, holding a big, fluffy white towel. My heart sank a little in my chest. He’d be furious if he knew Louis was coming on to me. But Louis was trashed. Maybe…uh…maybe that was why he was being a letch.

Sure, that was it. That had to be it.

I sloshed my way to Harry and smiled at him, letting him wrap the towel around me as soon as I was up the steps and out of the pool. “That was dumb.”

“I’ll make it up to you, baby girl.” He kissed my forehead and then leaned against me, sliding his hand into the towel and untying my bikini top from around my neck. “Last night in Dubai, sweet girl.”

“And then?”

His fingers worked the knot around my back, loosening the ties and tugging the top away from my skin. “And then a month off to record our new record and, more importantly, be with you. No interruptions, no concerts, no interviews or autographs. Just us doing whatever we want.”

I raised up on my tip toes. “Sweet.”

“What do you think about going to London for a week?” He pulled the bikini top off me and tossed it over his shoulder, easing me away from the pool. “Or a trip to Italy? Have you ever been to Italy? Or would you rather go to France? I’ll kiss you at the base of the Eiffel Tower.”

I felt weird, like I was hiding something from him. Was I? Was there anything to say about what Louis did? It wasn’t like, he’d tried to kiss me or anything. Maybe I was making too much of it. Maybe he was just being friendly. Louis was friendly. Yes. That was it. “That sounds insanely romantic, Hazza.”

“I am, romantic.” He led me towards the elevators, leaning heavily against the wall as he hit the button to summon the elevator car. After a moment, his smile faded and his face loss all expression.

The sudden change startled me; I glanced over my shoulder to see what he was looking at. Two girls were standing towards the lobby, focusing their cell phone cameras on him.

I’d noticed this change in Harry the longer the tour went on. I wasn’t sure if I should attribute it to him just being tired, or him being tired of people constantly taking his picture. He wasn’t smiling in fan photographs anymore. He’d look serious or, at the most, his lip would curl up in an uninterested smirk.

He wasn’t even giving them that much. He draped his arm over my shoulders and pulled me against him. “I’m sorry, love.”

“It’s okay.” I smiled at him, rising up on my tiptoes and touching my forehead to his. “Just take me upstairs.”

The elevator doors slid open and he guided me inside, promptly slamming his index finger into the ‘close doors’ button. He leaned his head back against the wall and sighed loudly. “One of these days, I just want to take you to a private island or something. Some place where we can just be together without people taking pictures or scrutinizing our relationship. I feel like a fucking caged animal.”

When the elevator doors opened on our floor, he wrapped his arm around my waist and we walked to our room in silence. He was reflective tonight. There were two sides to him: Public Harry and Private Harry. Public Harry was always very cheerful and spunky, polite and without fail, positive. Public Harry said random things on Twitter or pointed out funny signs in the crowd at concerts. Private Harry was so much more. He never quite showed who he really was when he was Public Harry. Private Harry was sweet and romantic; he’d write me love notes on hotel stationary before he left for the day and hide them for me to find. He wanted everyone to like him. He hated thunderstorms. His favorite picture of me was one he’d taken at the National Gallery, me from behind, standing in front of John Constable’s The Hay Wain. He’d captioned it “Better Still, be my Winding Wheel” when he’d posted it on Instagram and the girl’s swooooned. Hell, I’d swooned. He was fiercely protective of our relationship and of me—so when he posted something about us online, everyone seemed to take notice. Of course, there were the Debbie Downers who posted on Twitter and Instagram that I was just a slut, using him for his fame, or his ‘flavor of the day.’ The negative posts made him cry. He confided to me still, even after five years, the cruel posts and jokes hurt him. He hated when people insinuated he and Louis were in love—it’d broken their friendship—and hated being called a man whore or player. He wasn’t. He loved passionately and once you were his friend, it was for life. All he wanted was for people to respect his music and just leave him alone when he didn’t want to be the center of attention.

It broke my heart.

He held our room door open for me and guided me inside. In one fluid motion, he closed the door and tugged the towel off my body, tossing it to the floor and my bathing suit top in the general direction of the sleeping area. Sinking down on his knees, he wrapped his arms around my waist and nuzzled his face against my stomach. “Promise you’ll love me forever, Laney.”

“Longer than forever, if there is such a thing.” I tangled my hands into his hair. As it dried, it was getting even curlier than normal. “No doubt.”

He kissed the studs by my hips, running his tongue along the skin above my bikini bottoms. “It’s our last night on tour.”

“Well, you’re on tour. I’m just here for the passport stamps.”

He chuckled, then tugged my bikini bottoms down. Stumbling to his feet, he scooped me up into his arms and carried me to the bed, laying me down and shimmying off his swimming trunks. His eyes were intense: when he looked at me, it was like I was the only person in his universe. It didn’t matter if we were alone or in a stadium filled with thousands of screaming girls. When he looked at me, everything else around me stopped.

Easing himself down on top of me, he gently cradled my face in his hands and kissed me. His kisses were tender, his tongue lapping against mine and his full lips soft against mine. Running his hands through my hair, he pulled away and smiled at me, his eyes droopy from the champagne. “I adore you, Laney.”

The thought of Louis’s hands on my shoulders and back made me inwardly cringe. Harry would be so mad…I couldn’t tell him. I felt guilty, almost ashamed that he’d touched me. But Harry couldn’t know. He couldn’t. “I love you more.”

“I love you most.” He nudged my thighs apart with his knee, pressing the tip of his cock against me. He was hard; I tried to squirm against him to urge him inside me. He pinned me down with his hip and teased me, starting to slide in but then pulling out. I arched my back, trying to get closer to him. “Don’t tease me, Hazza! Ugh, that’s completely unfair.”

He laughed and moved his kisses to my throat, drunkenly starting to sing Tom Petty, “But not me, baaaaby. I got you to saaaave me. Yer so bad. Best that I ever had. In a world gone mad. Yer soo bad.”

I wrapped my arms around his broad shoulders, pressing my palms to his skin. The feeling of his muscles flexing and releasing as he cradled me was intoxicating. “I love when you sing to me, Hazza. Your voice makes me melt.”

He raised up to his elbows and pressed his lips to mine. “I know what else makes you melt.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah.” He shimmied down my body and wrapped his arms around my thighs, locking them in place. Dipping his head down, he pressed his lips between my legs and circled his tongue around my clit.

I sucked in a sharp breath. “Hazza.”

“Just let me play.”

He ran his tongue down my tender skin and then slid it inside me, quickly replacing it with his index and middle finger. Without slowing down, he moved upwards and lapped his tongue against my clit. “Hazza,” I moaned, “you need to fuck me. As much as I love this, and I do, you have me so hot that I NEED you inside me. Please. Now.”

“Say my name louder.” His tongue pressed against me, his long fingers crooking deep inside me and touching me in places it seemed only he was ever able to reach. The pleasure was building, etching its way down my lower abdomen. He knew exactly what to do to me. He knew he had me close to the edge.

“Hazza…god, Hazza…right there…” Whether it was the pressure of his lips or his tongue or the way his fingers moved inside me, I couldn’t hold off any longer. With another lap of his tongue, he made me cum—I nearly sat straight up. “Harry!”

He was up fast, but clumsy from the alcohol, and caught me around the waist with his arms. We were both up on our knees and he kissed me; it was full of desire and passion, but still tender. Gentle. I could feel his lips curl up into a smile as I slid up onto his lap, straddling him. “Hazza. Fuck me.”

“Dirty girl.” He lowered me onto my back and slid between my legs; I bit my lip in pleasure as he entered me. His eyelids fluttered and his lips were slightly parted. “Mmm…baby girl, I love when you’re dirty for me.”

I arched my back to get closer to him. “Harder, Hazza….fuck me harder.”

“I can’t. I don’t want to cum yet.”

I could hear my phone start ringing from somewhere in the room. God damn it, I forgot to turn it off again. Harry and I had been taking pictures before the show…and now it was ringing. Now. I wanted to throw a pillow at it and knock it out of the building.

Then I listened again. It was my kid sister’s ring tone. I hadn’t heard from anyone in my family in over a month. “Harry, wait, that’s Emily. I have to answer it.”

“I know, sweetheart.” He slid off me and flopped on his back. “I’ll just…push the tour bus back to America.”

I dashed to the chaise lounge next to the balcony and fumbled with my purse. The phone was thankfully still ringing when I yanked it out. “Ems? Hey sweetie! Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s great.” The voice that responded was not my nine-year-old sister. It was my brother, Ben.

I scowled. “What the fuck do you want? I’m busy right now.”

“Too busy for your family, still? Remember us? The Lee family of Richmond? Maybe you’ve read about us—no, wait. You’re too busy fucking some dickless pop star.”

“You’d better watch your mouth, asshole.” My voice surprised me; it was practically a low growl. Ben and I had fought with each other our entire lives, no doubt because we were so close in age, and he knew how to piss me off more than anyone else. Even Vi. “You have no fucking idea what you’re talking about.”

“Believe it or not, Laney, I can read. And everyone here in NOVA is making sure I read all these great articles about you and this kid. My sister: the girl who’s sleeping around with One Direction.”

“His name is Harry. And I’m not sleeping around, I love him. Maybe if Mom had actually listened to me instead of blowing me off when I tried to tell her, you’d have gotten the memo.”

“You’re so fucking hard headed, Laney.” He sighed loudly. “Do you know what Emily asked mom for her birthday? Of course not, you haven’t talked to any of us since March. Damn, since February.”

“Get to the point, Ben, I have to get up in the morning for a flight.”

“Emily told mom that she wanted you to come for her birthday. She misses you.”

My heart broke a little. “You make it sound like I’m the bad person here. I didn’t do anything wrong. I tried to tell mom and Vi that I was in love with him but do you know what they said? They said I was too young to know what love is. They said that I was letting him use me just to get his rocks off. How do you think that makes me feel, Ben? We’re in love.”

“Laney.”

“Ben.”

“Bring him with you, then. If he really loves you, then it shouldn’t be a big huge deal.”

“He’s really busy.”

“Yeah? Like Mark used to be busy all the time?”

I froze. My mind blanked for a moment and I stammered, not entirely sure what to say. Still another person who didn’t believe that a man could love me? And then bring Mark into it? “Fuck you, Ben.”

I hung up the phone and sat down on the chaise lounge. Damn it. Emily was so kind hearted and innocent. Ben hadn’t bothered to tell me how Mom had responded to her request to have me home for her birthday, now only a week away, but I was fairly sure it had been something along the lines of me picking Harry over my family. Maybe she and Joy hadn’t been the ones to unfriend me on Facebook. Maybe it had been my mother.

Technically, my aunt. But still.

The floor creaked as Harry walked across the room to my side. He sat down on the lounge next to me and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “Are you okay, baby girl?”

“It was just my tool brother, Ben.” I leaned against Harry and pressed my cheek against his chest. “He…um…said that my sister Emily wants me to come home for her birthday. As in, that’s what she wants as her birthday gift.”

“Oh, baby girl.” He’d heard the waver in my voice, even though I’d tried to rush through my words. His arms tightened around me. “She’s going to be ten, right?”

I nodded, squeezing my eyes closed against the tears threatening to spill over. Once again, here was my family trying to make me pick between them and Harry.

“So, let’s go.”

I looked up at him, tears trickling down my face. “What?”

He smiled, gently wiping my cheeks with his thumbs. “Let’s go to your house for your sister’s birthday. You’re, ehm, acting surprised, baby girl. You haven’t made that face since I tried to slide that sex toy into your ass.”

“Well, maybe if you’d warned me first.” I nuzzled my face against his hand. “But…I don’t want to like, be a bother or something. You’re busy. You know I totally understand that.”

“But I’m never too busy for you, Laney love.” He pressed his lips to mine. “You’re my girl.”

“My mother is a crazy, jealous lunatic.”

“And you’re my sexy, beautiful, amazing girlfriend.” He pulled me against him and touched his forehead to mine. “Does your sister like One Direction?”

“That’s the part that’s going to be awkward. Awkward-er. I mean, awkward-er than my mother glaring at you and my brother asking inappropriate questions.”

“Come here.” He pulled me onto his lap and kissed my shoulder. “I have to be in Los Angeles for a few days for a chat show, but if you want to go to Virginia early, I can just meet you there.”

I was in such a foul, angry mood after talking to Ben, that I had no desire to leave him. I really had turned into that clingy girlfriend. Besides, what did I have in NOVA these days? Um. Nothing. I grunted noncommittally.

Harry chuckled and leaned me back against the chaise. “Well, we don’t have to decide right now, Laney love. We can…sleep on it.”

I giggled. “Baby, baby, let me sleep on it.”

He slid his hand under my thigh and pulled it up, pinning my knee under his arm. His laughed, his adorable smile lighting up his eyes. “Why does that sound familiar?”

“Paradise by the Dashboard Light! Come on, by Meatloaf?” I wrapped my arms around his shoulders again, pulling him closer so I could kiss him. “Though it's cold and lonely in the deep dark night…”

He slid in between my legs and entered me, one arm gripping my leg and his hand pressed to my hip, his other bracing him up so he could look into my eyes. His deep voice, singing right in my ear, turned me on even more. “I can see paradise by the dashboard light. Paradise by the dashboard light.”

Notes

Sorry I've been MIA for awhile! Thoughts on this chapter?