A Compelling Motive (h.s.)

eighteen

"What the fuck?!"

I pull the phone away from my ear, my sister's booming voice proving to be particularly annoying today.

"You were in a car accident and you fail to mention it to me. Or dad!" she yells, and Harry comes to sit beside me. He lifts an eyebrow, noticing my annoyance. I mouth that it's my sister, his head nodding. A smirk comes across his face and I lightly kick him, the action triggering a light laugh.

"Didn't think you'd care, that's all," I say, her groan on the other end of the phone heard. I lean my head back on the couch, Harry grabbing my thigh in an attempt to calm me down.

"Of course I care. Are you okay? Do you need anything?" she asks, my eyes rolling at her sad attempt of trying to be a sister. She did this once before when I had sprained my ankle in high school. She did it through pity, not care.

"I'm fine and I don't need anything. Thanks though," I tell her, trying to at least be courteous.

I hang up after she tells me to call her, my head resting on Harry's shoulder. He runs his arm over my shoulders and kisses my hair.

"Harry," I sigh, his lips beginning to trail into my neck. He knows what he's doing to me and I just reach up to his face, pulling it away from me.

"I need to shower," I blurt, interrupting his wandering hands and kisses.

"I can help with that," he says, standing up. My right hand is taken in his and he lifts me, elevating me to my feet easily.

"I think I can shower on my own, love," I tease, kissing his cheek before walking to the guest room. He trails behind me.

"Well, what if I say I want to be with you," he smoothly replies, my body freezing. It's then I feel his hands on my waist, leaning his head in my neck. My eyes close as his nose trails along the nape, his lips placing over the healing bruises.

"Let me help you," his lips whisper against my skin, my lips parting slightly. He begins to run his hands beneath my shirt and I open my eyes, pushing him back so I can turn around.

"Harry, I don't know," I say, and he gently places his hands on my face. His lips press against mine, but he pulls away too quick for me to even enjoy the feeling.

"I'll be able to help you wash your hair," he starts, kissing my cheek.

"I'll be able to wash your body," he continues, brushing his lips beneath my ear. I shiver at the touch.

"And I'll be able to feel your naked body, pressed against my own," he finishes, my lips gasping when he lightly bites the lobe of my ear. He trails his kisses down my neck and I put my hands on his chest, my heart beating so fast.

"Okay," I say, letting my body control me right now. I want him.

He smiles, leaning down and lifting me. He's mindful of my injuries, however the healing process is making it easier. I'm feeling much better than I had a week ago. No more stitches in my forehead and my bruises are growing less noticeable. There is a wrap now around my arm, enabling me to finally bed my arm. All movement is back, but I can't lift or put pressure on my arm.

My feet meet the tile of the bathroom floor, Harry standing in front of me. I smile up at him and he reciprocates, showing off his beautiful smile. All my thoughts are consumed with Harry, taking in the upcoming moments. I'm not nervous to show my body to him, but rather intrigued as to why he wants to do this. I have yet to see all of him; the time now arriving.

He takes off my shirt, letting the plain tee fall to the floor. His soon follows, my hands feeling over the skin of his tattooed torso. The patterns are touch by my fingertips and I can tell it's a feeling he enjoys. He leans into my touch.

Harry leans down, aiding in the removal of my pants. He kisses along my thighs, triggering my hand to grab his hair to keep my balance. The feeling intensifies as his long fingers trail along the outside of my panties. When he stands straight once more, he removes his pants just before lifting me up.

He sets me on the counter and I grab his face, his lips pressing to mine. The door is pushed close and his arms wrap around my body, his lips staying pressed to mine. I can tell there's a slight sense of urgency in his kiss, but I'm just as urgent. The connection we are developing is natural; craving each other.

When he retracts his lips, I watch him back up. His eyes stay on mine, looking at me with almost pure lust. But it's his smile that keeps me from drawing closer to my nerves. His smile is a cure to nerves, assuring me he's here for me.

The shower is turned on and I watch as Harry's torso bends as he reaches to the water, fingers feeling the temperature. I reach out to him, desperate to feel his touch again. Our fingers entwine and I tug him closer, my lips curving against his as they press together in another kiss.

"Let me get the cover on before I take those panties off," he whispers, my hands staying on his face. He kissed me every other word, but I don't want to let him go. I like kissing him.

He laughs as he pulls away, grabbing the wrap the doctor gave us. I watch Harry move it over the wrap on my arm, making sure no water can jeopardize the cast. As he does so, I peer up to view his face and take in the beautiful man. When he finishes, Harry allows me to wrap my arms around his neck. Our lips press back together and I feel his hands glide against my back, brushing over my spine before connect over the clasp of my bra. A shiver runs through me, my legs instinctively wrapping tighter around him to bring him closer.

He removes the pretty material, his bare chest pressing against my own. It's when I move my arms down and brush over his abdomen that I start to feel the intensity of the moment. In one slow motion, the briefs fall to the ground. I'm lifted onto him and he has me stand tall, his body towering over me. The response to him kissing my forehead as he grabs my waist is my eyes closing. The expanse of his hands brush over my bottom and he runs his hands into my panties, feeling my skin against his.

When I feel my panties touch my feet, Harry connects our lips again. He backs us up until we meet the shower floor, his hand shutting the door behind us. My body presses to the cool tile and I part from our kiss to look up at him, my hands pressed to his neck.

Harry looks down at me, his tattooed skin glittered with water drops. Drips from his hair fall on my face and I find myself unable to look away.

I'm unable to understand what it is I feel for him, but I know I'm attached to him. I've only been with him in such ways that most people in affectionate relationships act. These actions trigger much more meaning than what normally may occur. But I know now that he's trying to adjust to caring for me in ways he's not used to. He's trusting me, just as I am trusting him.

"Harry," I breathe, his lips brushing against mine. I can tell he's growing more affectionate with me, which has me fully aware of my feelings. He's making me fall for him, slowly but surely.

"Darling," he responds, starting to place light pecks to my lips. His hands roam over my body, pressing against my breasts and curves. I close my eyes, resting my head against the tile as he caresses me. I'm wrapped around his finger, easily melting into his touch.

"I don't want to lose what we have," I admit to him, his hand placing on my bottom. His head lifts, looking down at me. My heart stops when our eyes lock and I can't move, stunned by my own words. I'm not very clingy; in fact, I'm not much of a feelings person. Harry is making me come alive and own what I feel.

"You have nothing to worry about," he assures, landing his lips back on mine to kiss away my fears.