♥ HOW MUCH FOR AN HEIR'S HEART? - ZARRY ♥

Four (1)

With a nod, he shut those thoughts down and rose.

An excruciating hour later, Zayn's usually tighter control was in tatters. They'd gone through every floor in Tomlinsons, and he'd spent approximately sixty-two minutes in Harry's orbit, his gentle fragrance alternately arousing and frustrating Zayn. His animated voice had tripped over Zayn's senses, torturously reminding him of the kissy-mole every time Harry smiled. When Harry walked ahead of him, Zayn had ashamedly found his attention riveted to those curvy hips.

And Harry's smell.

Zayn had breathed in deeply, guiltily, more than once. Since when had a man smelled so damn good?

The only time he'd not been thinking about touching Harry was when they'd passed Yaser's trophy wall.

Zayn had barely been able to contain a sneer. Disgust bubbled up and with a scowl, and he choked it back down.

"Let's move on."

Zayn jumped at Harry's soft intrusion, only to have his body react on a more primitive level when his eyes focused on Harry's curves once again. The grey pinstriped pants moulded his hips. His shirt was a mysterious shade of green, making his eyes stand out.

Zayn kept wondering how Harry would take in when he finds out about Zayn's real identity. Would Harry be surprised? Probably not. Zayn had noticed more than once the fact that Harry was a deep thinker. It mirrored in Harry's expressive eyes. Was it bluer? No, not blue, greener. Like the complexity of shades in Nature, in the green forest.

His thoughts halted. Since when had he obsessed about a man's eyes before?

Yet despite his control, an unwanted ache started in his groin an hour after the tour was over. So he decided why not hit the Tomlinsons' executive gym?

Instead of solitude, a stretching Harry on the treadmill.

Zayn only stared and stared some more. In short bike pants and a tank top, Harry was in a quad stretch. Zayn's mouth went dry, and Harry rolled his hair up in a small bun, a few strands sticking to his damp skin.

His bag dropped on the floor. Harry kept stretching, his shoulder blades flexing and contracting with the effort.

Deep sigh.

Zayn groaned ready to beat a hasty retreat, but Harry must have sensed him because he whirled, pulling out his ear-pods. He quickly dropped his leg and grabbed his towel, his chest rising as a trickle of sweat ran down his throat and disappeared beneath his damp tank. Zayn's eyes followed that journey until he unwillingly dragged his eyes back up to meet green.

"Leaving?" Zayn murmured.

"Yes." Swiftly, Harry pulled a sweatshirt over his head then scooped up his bag, quickly heading for the door.

Zayn just stood there, as Harry quickly walked past him, leaving him cold and empty. Then he heard the door click.

As the gym doors closed behind him, Harry wrapped his arms around his body to ward off the chill. Escape first, then put on your track pants. He thought he'd nearly succeeded when Zayn appeared beside him.

"Yours," Zayn said, holding out his water bottle. Harry paused, glanced at the older man's hand, then up at his face.

Harry slowly took his bottle, and couldn't help but notice Zayn tried and succeeded in giving back his bottle without making skin contact. "Thanks." He turned back to the elevator, repositioned his bag on his shoulder and stared at the ascending floor numbers.

When Zayn remained still, Harry shot a quick look in his direction. "Working late?"

"This is early for me."

Harry smiled thinly but said nothing.

"But...?" Zayn prompted.

"Don't you ever take a day off?"

Zayn shrugged. "Too much work to do."

"What's the point of making all that money if you can't enjoy yourself?"

Zayn frowned this time. "I'm not unhappy with what I've achieved, Harry. Money doesn't make you miserable."

"No. People do that all by themselves." The elevator doors swung open, signalling the end to their strange conversation. But to Harry's surprise, he followed him in. The doors closed, and in the next second, he pushed the stop button.

"And to answer your question, I enjoy myself plenty."

Harry stilled, his breath rattling around, too harsh in his throat, his heart beating too loudly in his chest. He looked at Zayn, noting his narrowed eyes, the sudden tension in his body as it sizzled, not with anger but something else, something indefinable that he struggled to hold back.

In the next moment, Zayn fixed on his mouth, and Harry felt a hot flush start in his belly. He parted his lips, the air in his lungs thickly seeping out. Was Zayn thinking of actually kissing him?

Zayn moved quite quickly, so smoothly that it took Harry's breath away. Or maybe it was the kiss stealing his will to function. It froze his limbs, stuttered his heartbeat and erased all the memories of other kisses that had come before.

When Zayn's hot mouth covered Harry's in deep possession, his hand buried in Harry's curls, preventing escape, a low groan escaped Harry. The kiss, the power and force of it made Harry forget about everything. The command of his lips sliding over Harry and his tongue invading his mouth.

Harry took a deep, shuddering breath as his eyes fluttered closed. Zayn's smell was so different from anything he'd experienced, the heat, the passion. When Zayn's hands cupped his face, holding him in place, Harry kissed him right back. 

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I'm really sorry that it's taking so much time to post a new chapter. The brain juices just refuse to flow sometimes, lol. Hope you're still with me reading this chapter. Love you all!!!