I Just Want You

“…so, I was running around the house sooo dramatic and violently threw open our front curtains to scream ‘canons’ and apparently my mother had neglected to tell me she was having the gutters cleaned. So I’m face to face with this horrified roofer who was evidently not a fan of Les Mis because he screamed and quite nearly fell off his step ladder.” Louis laughing so hard he almost spilled his Jack Daniels on his pants. “My mother was like, really Lou, I can’t leave you at home without worrying you’re going to cause some kind of disaster.”

I couldn’t stop laughing. We’d been drinking for two hours straight and smoked too many cigarettes and not enough pot. Security had tried to get the hotel bar to shut down for our ‘private party’ but it hadn’t worked. So, instead, Chad and Paul went out and bought us tequila, whisky and bourbon—and lots of it.

The entire seventh floor was reserved for the boys, their band, and their security team. There were a surprising amount of people, most of which left us alone. The boys in the band were partying with us…well, it was a lot less party and a lot more just being unattended in the hallway. Someone had a skateboard. Liam was sleeping face down on the floor.

Harry was sprawled out on the floor with his head resting on my lap, his hands firmly positioned on my legs, with his fingers gently caressing my skin. He sat up suddenly, first standing and then pulling me up to my feet. “Let’s go talk.”

“Talk? Or talk talk?” I cocked my eyebrow upwards.

He laughed, sliding his hand down my arm and lacing his fingers around mine. “Our own private party, Kenz.” Without letting go of my hand, he leaned over and grabbed a bottle of Jim Beam. “I’m taking this.”

“Make sure you buy her breakfast.” Louis smirked, slowly shaking his head. “I’m fucking jealous of you, Harry.”

I glanced at him over my shoulder as Harry led me away. “He taught me to ride a bike, dude.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll teach you to ride a space ship if that means you’ll fuck me too.”

I thought for a minute and then shook my head. “No, thanks. I’ll pass.”

Harry chuckled and pulled me down the hallway, studying the room numbers until he stopped in front of one. 7345. “I refuse to let you hook up with any of the boys in the group. Absolutely not.”

“I’m not interested in any of them.”

He winked at me, letting go of my hand long enough to swipe his keycard and hold the door open for me. “I’ll be honest, Kenz, I’m selfish. I wanted you all to myself for the rest of the night.”

My brain said: Kick ass.

My mouth said, “Sweet.”

He turned the lights on. The room was actually a suite, with a plush couch, work station, and huge flat screen TV in the main room. There were two doors leading off from the living room: one to the bathroom (which looked massive) and the other to the bedroom. I could see the bed from where I was standing; the sheets and blankets were all twisted and messy. There was something strangely sexual about that.

Wow. I was going need my inhaler if I kept up that kind of internal dialogue.

But, you couldn’t tell me sex wasn’t on Harry’s mind. Because it had to be. Why else would he bring me here? Because he’s a nice guy?

Because he’s a genuinely nice guy?

Umm…..

“So, Kenzie.” He plopped down on the couch and patted the seat next to him. “I have so many questions for you, love, I want to know what happened to you in the last ten years.”

I sank down beside him; he immediately dropped his hand to my leg, tracing his fingertips over the tattoo on my upper thigh. His eyes were still intense. “Well….I moved to America. Quit dancing because I wanted to spend more time being artistic and dramatic. And then I dropped out of college to just start tattooing full time.” I paused. “So, I’ve quit, mostly, over the last ten years I guess you could say. Except smoking. I’m still struggle with that.”

“You have asthma.”

“Well, yeah.” I pursed my lips together thoughtfully. “I’m basically a hot mess.”

“Hot, yes.” He ran his fingers down my jawline. “God, I’ve missed you. It’s one of those things I tried to just block out for years but I always come back to thinking about you. Wondering what happened.”

“Did they tell you what happened? Or did people just say we moved?”

“My mum said there’d been an accident with your mum. She said that you and Marcus were sent to America to live with family until she got better.” He adjusted, turning to look at me more directly, and brushed the loose strands of hair out of my face. His hand was so gentle; his touch alone made electricity shoot down my lower abdomen. “She told me what happened was…really bad.”

“Yeah, it was. And it only ever keeps getting worse because she keeps getting worse.” I took a deep breath and then took the Jim Beam bottle from him, throwing back a deep drink. “I was at your house that night, remember? It was late July, the 28th, and Marcus and I had spent the whole day with you and Gemma. Breakfast, lunch, movies and popcorn and dinner. We’d all gone bowling and then your mum had Marcus and I stay because, as she said, she’d made cookies and they were best warm. We ended up watching another movie and ate all the cookies…and…I’ll never forget, it was almost ten o’clock and Marcus commented how odd it was that Mum hadn’t called for us to come home. So, we left.”

He was looking at me, his eyes serious and intense. His hand was cupped over my wrist, his thumb gently caressing my arm. “I remember.”

“When we got home, my Uncle Matt was waiting for us. The police hadn’t gotten there yet…but…basically, my dad had come home drunk. As usual. That was his thing, you know, avoid us all day, get drunk at night, and come home to pick a fight or start demanding things. His dinner was cold because he was three hours late and Mum was tired of waiting for him. And he just went ape shit on her. He beat her with his metal lunch pail until he’d crushed it, then he hit her with a fire extinguisher until she stopped moving.” I felt my lower lip quiver.

“Shit. Kenzie.” He pulled me into his arms, tucking my head down on his chest. I felt him press his lips to the top of my head. “You don’t have to tell me any more if you don’t want to, Little One.”

“No, I want you to know what happened. And…uh, why we left. No one let us in the house, we just sat outside in Uncle Matt’s car while he and my great-aunt talked to the police. The ambulance got there and they eventually took her away. It seemed like it took hours. The next day we were sent to America to live with my mum’s sister, Aunt Jane, while Mum was in surgeries. Fuck, she’s had so many surgeries. But, back then, they had to put her on a vent and a catheter. My father had broken her cervical spine at C6 and C7 and her thoracic spine in three different places. She was left paralyzed from the neck down. The doctors are still amazed she’s alive at all. My dad had always smacked her around, so I can’t say I was entirely surprised—maybe more in shock—and then he went to jail. Everyone was so afraid he’d come after us and we weren’t allowed to contact anyone back home. That’s how I lost you.”

Harry was quiet for several moment, gently running his fingertips down my back. “Did he ever hit you?”

“Sometimes.”

He exhaled deeply, his arms tight around me. I’d never felt so safe and so utterly relaxed in my entire life. Sure, I was tipsy. But it was like old times, it was like being in Holmes Chapel again, with no worries. Just me and Marcus and Hazza. And now, it was just me and Hazza.

“I used to lay in bed at night and think about you.” He dipped his head down and pressed his lips to my forehead. “I’d wonder if you were okay and if you ever thought about me.”

“I did, Hazza. Like, a thousand times a day. By the time I was old enough to do whatever I wanted and didn’t have to live with Aunt Jane anymore, you were already this super star and I knew I’d never see you again.” I looked up at him. “Well, obviously that last part was wrong. Because here you are.”

“I didn’t think I’d recognize you, honestly.” He ran his hand down my arms. “And then, there you were, with this half smile on your lips and those big gray eyes. Fuck, I’ve always loved the color of your eyes. Like storm clouds.”

“Please, I’d rather have your green eyes. And dimples.” I poked my finger into his dimple, then let my fingertip trace the strong curve of his jaw. “So, I have to ask, do you have a girlfriend, Hazza? Someone who might try to shank me in the elevator tonight?”

“Nah,” He shrugged his shoulders casually. “I hook up with girls, but I haven’t had anything serious in ages. It’s hard…I mean, no one wants to deal with all the shit. The touring, the paparazzi, the rumors, the hate from fans. They want sex, yeah, but I’ve never made that connection with a girl yet, you know?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I totally get that.”

He touched his fingertips to my thigh, tracing the lines of my tattoo of Monet’s Water Lilies. “What about you, beautiful?”

“No, just me being lame and hanging out at the shop or with my mum.” I glanced down at his hand caressing my leg. “You like that?”

“Yeah, both the leg and the tattoo.”

“I actually did this one myself.”

“Really?” His gaze trailed down my body to my leg and then back up to my eyes. His grin was delightfully lopsided, his dimple perfect. “You’re very talented, Kenzie.”

“So are you.” I bit my lip, sucking in a sharp breath. His lips were so close to mine and his body felt amazing. He was with me, after all this time. And damn it, he had me so turned on…

…I realized I was just staring into his eyes. So much for looking like one of the cool kids. “I mean, um, singing. You’re a fantastic singer, Hazza, how do you not have girls throwing themselves at you?”

“I do, actually. But I haven’t found the right girl yet, the one I want to be with forever.” He trailed his fingertips down my cheek. “Or maybe I have.”

I rested my hands on his chest and gazed up into his eyes. “Hazza, please. Don’t get my hopes up like that. You had to have known the insane crush on you that I had in like…all of the time we’ve known each other.”

“Really?” He moved his hands to my waist, pulling me more up onto his lap. I was half straddling him, half sitting on him and he held me against him, locking me in place with his arms. “You never, ever told me that, Kenzie. You should have.”

I shrugged. “You were always snogging Diana Seifer and Abigail Howser. I figured if I couldn’t be your girlfriend, I could at least be your best friend. And I loved being your best friend, Hazza. I got to spend the night at your house and they didn’t. Maybe if I’d lived in Holmes Chapel past age twelve I would have.”

“And then I could have kissed you.”

“Absolutely. Abigail always bragged you were this amazing kisser…God, I hated her.”

Harry laughed, lifting one hand to my face. He caressed my cheek gently and kept his other hand on my waist, slipping his fingertips just below the fabric of my shorts. “Can I…kiss you now?”

My brain ceased correct function. Those beautiful eyes, that shy smile…I nodded. Yes, I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted him to kiss me all night long.

He pulled me closer to him, guiding my face to his. His face broke into a shy smile and very, very gently pressed his lips to mine. It was soft and sweet, his lips gentle against mine with just the hint of his mouth parting and caressing my lower lip. It…was possibly the most romantic kiss of my life.

“That was for when we were kids,” his eyes were locked on mine, “and this is for now.”

He kissed me again. The kiss deepened almost instantly, his tongue lapping against mine and exploring my mouth at a maddeningly gentle pace. He pulled back with a soft smack. “It was worth waiting for.”

Before I could say anything, he dipped his head down and kissed me again. It took my breath away; his lips were soft, the rhythmic movement of his tongue in my mouth turning me on to the point I adjusted my hips so I was straddling him. I wanted to feel him against me.

He responded right away. He scooted into a more upright position, rocking his hips forward and pressing against me. Our bodies pressed together in just the right place. Jesus, if he felt this good on the outside, I couldn’t imagine what he felt like on the inside….

I sighed softly in my throat. His kisses were like cocaine, I just needed more; I craved him. His arms were tight around me, his hands sliding underneath my shirt and flattening against my back. It felt like his fingertips were hitting pressure points—like sparks were shooting right from my back to between my legs. Our kisses were getting deeper; more frantic.

He moved his kisses to my throat, trailing his lips from my neck to along my jaw. “This escalated massively fast, Kenzie.”

“I’m okay with that.”

He chuckled, sliding his mouth back up to mine and peppering my lips with soft kisses. “With you, though, I want it to be special. I don’t just want a hook up, I want My-Kenzie.”

My Kenzie. I remembered now: we were in fifth grade, the beginning of my horrifically awkward stage. It was during a field trip, some of the “popular” girls—Abigail, Jamie, and Bridget—cornered me and said especially cruel things about my hair. My dirty nails, my not so stylish clothes, and how I still played with toys, whereas they were more focused on boys and makeup. I was devastated. I sat in the pavilion with the coolers of food and juice boxes and cried. That’s when Harry found me. He’s put his arm around me and wiped my tears away with his sleeve. I remembered those green eyes staring into mine, that lopsided grin. He held my hands in his and said, “You’re My-Kenzie. You always will be.”

I nibbled on my bottom lip, staring at up at him seductively. “Am I still your Kenzie?”

“Absolutely.” He kissed me again, we took turns exploring each other’s mouths. He pulled back again and tightened his arms around my waist. “Stay with me tonight.”

I tried to bite back a smile, but my lips pursed out into a coy grin anyway. “Hazza.”

“I don’t want you to leave me tonight. I just want to be close you, Kenzie. You’re like home to me.” His mouth was on my neck again, hot against the tender flesh above my collarbone. “I want you to me mine now. I could make you feel so good tonight.”

My pulse was throbbing between my legs. I wanted him, I craved him. I wasn’t entirely sure how to respond for several moments so, I finally murmured, “I should text Marcus.”

He murmured something against my neck that I didn’t quite understand and moved his hands to my thighs, wrapping my legs around him. “We should just go to the bedroom.”

Simultaneously, he stood and lifted me up; fuck, he was strong. I crossed my ankles behind him and locked myself into place. “If we keep this up, I’m not going to want to stop.”

“I already don’t.”

He slid one hand up my thigh and my hip, touching his forehead to mine. Those green eyes were locked on mine again and, for several moments, I completely forgot this was the boy from my childhood. He was so tall, his shoulders broad, and his face so angular and chiseled that I just wanted to…

Kenzie. Child the fuck out—no hook ups. He said it. Like, two seconds ago.

He carried me into the bedroom and eased me back down into a standing position, anchoring me against him. His thumbs dipped beneath the fabric of my shorts, slowly running down my skin. “Soo…I usually sleep naked. How do you feel about that?”

“How do you want me to feel about it?”

“Mmmmm.” He winked at me. “You can borrow one of my t-shirts if you’d rather get more comfortable. Or, if you want to sleep naked too…”

I reached up and trailed my fingertip down his jawline. “I’ll take the t-shirt.”

He slid his hands off my hips and tugged his shirt over his head, holding the warm, white fabric up to me. “Here you go, beautiful.”

“Cheeky boy.” I unabashedly looked over his chest, taking in the tattoos there and on his abs. I nibbled on my lower lip and then looked up into his eyes. “Soo, lets chat about these.”

“We can talk about yours next.”

“Okay, fair enough, but you have a lot of ink.” I ran my hand down his arm and then back up, resting my palm on his bicep. “And I totally dig it.”

“I have some under my trousers too.”

“I don’t doubt that.” I turned around in his arms, glancing quickly over my shoulder, and pulled my shirt over my head. “When are you going to let me tattoo you?”

“Hold up, now, you can’t look at my ink and not show me yours.” His hands tightened around me, caressing my sides and my hips. “You filled out in all the right places, Kenzie.”

I sucked in a sharp breath as his fingertips ran across my lower back. “Is that a pick up line, Hazza?”

“Is it working?”

“No.” I giggled and again looked at him over my shoulder. “You like what you see, sexy man?”

“I do.” He again ran his fingers down my back. I knew he was examining all the tattoos I had, from the angel wings that stretched from my shoulder blades to my hips, to the song lyrics on my lower back: ‘but the fighter still remains.’ “God, your body is a work of art.”

I pulled the t-shirt over my head, wiggling it down my body and relaxing in the overwhelming scent of his cologne. “Well, you know. I have to show off a decent body of work.”

“Fuck, Kenz, your body is…..wow.” His fingertips dug into my flesh, his thumbs gently rubbing my sides. “You aren’t the little girl from Cheshire anymore.”

“Nope.” I squirmed out of his grasp and pulled the shirt down. It reached to my mid-thigh; I pulled my arms inside and wiggled out of my bra, tossing it to the floor. “And you’re not that green eyed little boy anymore. You grew up to be fucking sexy.”

His arms were around me again, pulling me against him. “And what do you think about that?”

“I like it.”

“I like what I see too.”

I could feel his body responding, the bulge in his jeans he was trying to hide. I’d never made his body respond like this and…just the fact that it was actually happening made it hard to think.

“Kenz…you grew up to be flawless. I just…damn it, I can’t even explain it. I didn’t expect to want you this bad. Now it’s all I can think about.”

I shimmied out of my shorts and let them slide to the floor, taking a few coy steps backwards to the bed. “Well, you are grinding against me.”

“I could do it better without these jeans on.”

I giggled and sank down onto the bed, crooking my finger to him. “Come here.”

He was at my side before I even had the words out completely. Catching me in his arms, he eased me down onto my back and crushed his mouth to mine, his hand running up and down my side. “I’m trying so hard to behave.”

“Hey, I’m fine with going crazy in hotel rooms.” I kissed him. “You should probably take your jeans off now.”

He did a push up and kissed the tip of my nose, then stood up and started unbuckling his belt. I propped myself up on my elbows and watched. “I’m interested to see you peel those off, Hazza. They’re pretty fucking tight.”

“This isn’t helping.” He ran his hand down the bulge in his jeans. “You did that.”

“Me?” I giggled, watching him slide his jeans over his hips and down his legs. He looked even better in briefs, his muscular thighs and an awesome tattoo on leg that I looked at for less than two seconds before my eyes wandered up to his v lines. “I didn’t do anything but be myself.”

“I like you. A lot. I always have; you’re the same girl I remember,” he kicked his jeans aside and sank down next to me, running his fingers down my cheek, “but you are so sexy and beautiful and…Jesus, Kenzie, I want you so bad right now. I’m in pain, beautiful, don’t you feel bad?”

I brushed my lips against his and then started pulling bobby pins from my hair. I shook the long, magenta waves free and let them cascade down my back. Leaning close to him, I wetted my lips. “I could make you feel better.”

He sucked in a sharp breath. “You know I want that.”

"And I want you.”

He lowered me onto my back again, crawling on top of me and nudging my legs apart with his knee. Rocking his hips against mine, he gazed into my eyes as he simulated his rhythm against me. It was mind blowing; tantalizing. “I want every inch of you, I want to kiss your body and be inside you. But not like a hook up.”

I bit my lip to stifle a moan. He was so hard against me; all that kept him from sliding inside was the thin fabric of my pink panties and his black briefs. “Not a hook up….right. Yeah.”

“I want you to be mine, Kenzie. Wake up next to you,” He pressed his mouth to mine, “fuck you whenever we want. But I want the first time to be special, gorgeous girl, because you’re special to me. My Kenzie.”

I ran my fingers through his hair, arching my back to get closer to him. “I don’t want to lose you, Hazza. Not again.”

“You won’t.”

We looked into each other’s eyes for several moments, our legs tangled together, until I tapped my fingertip into his dimple. “You’re tired, Hazza. I can see it in your eyes.”

“I’m coming down from my high.” He brushed my hair back from my face and then dipped his head down, softly kissing my lips. “I have to pack so we can head out to Chicago in the morning. Or is Indianapolis? Fuck, I have no idea.”

“The night maid will get it.”

He burst out laughing, his eyes twinkling with delight. “Shit, I can’t believe you remember night maid.” Rolling off me, he pulled the blankets back and snuggled into bed, holding them and opening his arms to me. “Between that, and the public toilet disguise kit, we laughed for months. Years even.”

I crawled into bed next to him, running my fingers down the tattoos on his chest. “Be honest with me. Night maid was sexual.”

He thought for a minute. “Of course not, night maid was just a woman who broke into your house and cleaned your bedroom. And change your sheets. While you slept. ”

I raised my eyebrows.

“Yeah, definitely sexual.” He laughed and leaned over to turn the light off. The digital clock on the nightstand said quarter to four am. Shit. “When you least expect it: night maid.”

I giggled and snuggled up next to him, taking in a deep breath of his scent. Cologne, sweat, arousal. I kind of loved it. “You know, Hazza, this isn’t the first time we shared a bed. Well, bedroom I guess.”

“I remember.” His voice was soft in my ear. “You and Marcus stayed one night. Was it…ehm…because of your dad?”

“Yeah. My mom was in the hospital with some busted ribs and a punctured lung. We didn’t have anywhere to go.”

His arms tightened around me. “Marcus fell asleep literally as he said ‘I’m going to fall asleep now’ and you slept in my bed. I remember laying on the floor next to you and we talked for what, an hour? Two?”

“Yeah.” I nuzzled my face against his chest. “It was about what we wanted when we grew up. You wanted to be an entertainer—“

“And you wanted to be happy.”

I sighed. That part I’d forgotten. “You held my hand, though. Until I fell asleep.”

He rolled to his side, wrapping his arms around me, and pulled me to him. “I will never, ever let you go.”

He pressed his mouth to mine, kissing me deeply. It was impossible to determine just how long we made out, but there, in the dark, we kissed and touched and laughed until we fell asleep in each other’s arms.

Notes