Irresistible Touch (A Harry Styles Fanfiction)

13: Pretzels and Shop Talk

(A/N: ^Harry whenever Edmund is mentioned. Enjoy.)

I will always be impressed by how easily the tides can change between us, even under the most emotional of circumstances.

One moment we are both hurting, talking about someone who barely deserves a mention and the next we are tangled together so completely that it's hard to notice where he ends and I begin.

Almost instantly our lips take total control, Harry's dominating side peeking out little by little as he overwhelms me with sensation. Hands on my hip and in my hair, pressing his entire body against mine.

I keep up as much as I can, my hands sinking in and pulling at his hair and my legs curling up around his like a pretzel begging for more twists and knots in the dough.

That sounds insane... but it's the only thing that makes any sense.

A Harry and Mia pretzel.

I'll never tire of this feeling with him, especially since I never knew a feeling like this existed before.

I'm loving this sudden turn of events and yet I have zero ideas how Harry can wake up with a hangover, process all the new information I gave him, and now be so enthusiastic and ready for some Harry and Mia lovin'.

I guess this is a good hangover cure.

Oh god, I'm starting to sound like him.

We are a pretzel.

"Baby, baby..." he says breathlessly as he tries to speak, kiss me, and untie the knot holding my robe closed at the same time. "Need this off..." I don't think you could even say he's speaking sentences, they are more like words in between inhales and smooches. "Fuck, what did you do to this thing."

Frustrated beyond belief, he pulls himself away from me, suddenly directing all his attention to his fingers that are desperately trying to untie the fastened sash on the robe that I stole again.

"You're never going to make this easy for me, are you?"

Where there would normally be a smirk is a pathetic frown, a silent plea for easy entry.

Deep down I am an easy target because it's Harry, the man I love. However, my man needs some perspective. He could probably walk down the street right now and find half a dozen woman who would be willing to come up here with him. I know he doesn't think that way but he still needs a little challenge in life.

So for the man can get everything easy, he's going to need to work for this...even if it is the small knot on this robe. 

"No, definitely not," I giggle as I watch his ringless long fingers fumble with the knot on my hip. "Oh just move," I swat his hands away, only getting a little resistance before Harry flops on his back in defeat.

"My head hurts again," he whines, rubbing his forehead. "Maybe we should just–"

"There, it's untied."

He pounces on me, literally pounces on me, and the only thing I see before his lips land on mine is the blur of his wide toothy smile.

Playful or horny, I'm not sure which emotion is spurring him on but whatever the reason, I'm here for it.

While his lips move with definite precision, his hand roams freely, sliding up my thigh, dipping under the robe, taking full advantage of the skin to skin contact.

My legs are covered in goosebumps instantly as I gasp at the cool feeling of his fingertips.

Just like a few moments ago, I feel him stutter against my lips as his fingers tip-toe up my leg. It's like he's searching for something but he hasn't found by the time he gets mid-thigh.