A Compelling Motive (h.s.)

fourteen

The hustle and bustle of learning the ways of the coffee shop has had me wired for the past two weeks. My life is a whirlwind of inescapable new events and this job has me on my toes and ten times happier than the job my father gave me out of pity.

When I look up at the time, I smile knowing who my next customer will be in a few short moments. As I finish the few frothy lattes I have before me, Harry takes a seat at the counter and I lean over to press my lips to his.

"Hello darling. Looking good," he smiles, giving me full view of his pearly teeth and dimples.

"How was work?" I ask, moving a damp cloth across the counter to clear crumbs.

"Enlightening. Working on new material," he says. "Publishing is proving to be difficult, but it usually is."

As I pour his cup of coffee, he reaches for my hand and pulls me towards him. My hand manages to carefully set his mug of coffee on the counter before my attention is moved to Harry directly.

"Harry," I blush, his head craned into my neck as he kisses the skin.

"I want you to come home with me," he mumbles, my body moving to get him to look at me. His green eyes look into mine and I smile, resting my forehead on his.

"We'll see, Harry," I tell him, his eyebrow lifting in suspicion. "I have to get through this shift first."

With that, I kiss his cheek and move back into the kitchen area to help with what's needed. The time is filled with multiple muffins and scones baked, as well as pounds of coffee beans transported from trucks to the stockrooms.

My apron is placed on the hook in the back and I walk back up to front, my coworker sweeping as Harry writes in a notebook on the counter. At my actions, Harry lifts his gaze to me and a soft smile forms upon his lips. I reciprocate and walk around to him. My body is tugged in by his strong arm and my hands meet the nape of his neck, my forehead resting on his.

"Ready to go?" Harry asks, my heart beating rapidly against my chest.

"Yeah," I whisper, just so he's the only one able to hear.

The two of us make our way out of the shop and his hand takes grasp of mine tightly, his body guiding mine protectively.

"Can we stay at mine tonight?" I ask, his head tilting to look over mine.

"Of course, darling," he responds, making our way towards my apartment. The brisk air chills my face, my body bundled in the warmth of my clothes. He extends a hand and I place my keys in his hand, my eyes watching him open the door to my building. As we walk the extents of the stairs, his hand never removes itself from mine. He opens my door and sets the keys on the counter, locking the door immediately after.

I move my bag off my shoulder and I reach inside to grab a cigarette. Harry takes one as well and the two of us light them, his body setting on the barstool while I move into the kitchen.

"Anything to drink?" I ask, moving a pot onto the stove.

"Earl grey," he says, and I turn to look at him as I grab milk from the fridge. He sends a wink my way and I blush. Earl grey is my favorite and I'm sure he knows that by now.

With the cigarette in my lips, I walk back over to him and blows out smoke. He smiles and I lean against my side of the counter space.

"What are your plans tomorrow?" he inquires, pushing ash onto the tray. It's an action I soon copy.

"The same as today," I answer, his lips capturing the cigarette.

"You have the weekend off though?" he asks, and I press my lips together as I ponder. I'm unsure if I have the time off, but I might.

"Possibly," I tell him, his eyes looking back at me. "I might work Saturday morning."

"Good, because I need a date," he tells me, my lips curving into a soft smile. Another event is coming up and my sister didn't even attempt to outreach to me. And when she asked if I was going to go with someone, I said yes with the assumption that Harry and I were going to go together.

"What's the theme?" I ask, extinguishing the cigarette and turning back to the stove. I pour the warm milk into mugs and then the tea bags, steeping them for a while before I receive my answer from Harry.

"It's black and white. Simple enough," he tells me when I return, handing him the mug. All I answer with is a nod and I take a small sip of the warm tea. My elbows lean on the counter and I look at him, his eyes closing lightly as he sips the tea. His long eyelashes rest lightly on his cheekbones for only a millisecond.

A few days of talking and many nights of phone calls, I was able to find a sense of ease with him. Harry made it seem as if he was only trying to act as a protector, able to be there no matter what happened. It's when I told him I was uncomfortable with constantly being watched that made him angry. The fear I had when watching him unfold due to my own feelings scared me off for a day. He had called to come over, but he was already outside my door.

We had to talk a lot and we stayed up late to make sure we understood each other. I'm not so much afraid anymore but building my trust will take time. He can't do what he was doing anymore; he needs to let me be alone. Besides, Harry knows a lot of my secrets already and I know a few of his; some of which I learned without him knowing.

"Harry," I break the comfortable silence.

"Rhiannon," he whispers, a certain huskiness covering his voice.

"Do you remember the night I stayed at your house?" I ask, memories flooding my mind. His touches to my body and the urge I have to feel those warm hands against me is growing more and more.

"Of course," he says, a small smirk forming on those cherry lips. My eyes cast towards my tea in the attempt to contain my breathing. I want him; a feeling no other man has ever come close to giving me.

The time I use to calm myself down is the time Harry takes to come close to me. His hand against my neck is the first touch inflicted softly to my body, his hand pushing my hair away. Then his full lips press to the base of my neck, my lips puffing out a slight moan.

"You have no idea how much I love how you react to me," he whispers in my ear, kissing the lobe right after. He spins me around and lifts me, my legs wrapping around his waist to catch myself. My hands grab his face and I press my lips to his, his hands moving down to my bottom and squeezing lightly. My lips part at the feeling and he takes it as an opportunity to slide his tongue against mine.

Due to my distraction of my own feelings, the next sound I hear is Harry kicking my bedroom door closed behind him. There have only been a few men in my apartment, those men lacking substance. I never went further with them to have full sex. When they tried, I turned them down. It was left at simply making each other feel good; not a full extent of intimacy.

"Harry," I gasp out when I'm laid on my bed. His head buries in my neck, sucking my skin as he grabs my wrists and pressing them to the mattress above my head.

"Let me make you feel good," he rasps out as a moan in my ear. I shakily breathe out, his lips moving against my jaw. Harry then presses his plump lips to mine, moving them slowly to grow my arousal. My heart is pounding, and he pulls his lips away from mine.

I open my eyes and he's looking into mine already, his eyes in a soft gaze. They ease me to know I can trust him at the moment, and I give him a nod.

"Say it," he whispers. I knew my nod wasn't going to be enough, but he assures me further knowing he wants verbal consent.

"Please," I whisper, his eyes focused on me. My lips quiver and I can't break my gaze away from him.

"Touch me."

Harry lets my wrists go and I watch him grab the back of his shirt, his tattooed torso coming into view. His body covers mine once more, his lips taking mine. He wraps one of his arms around me while the other arm props him up, but I feel his body resting on mine. I'm so comfortable and so assured that he will keep me safe. I want him so bad; something I've never felt before.