Ferocity | Harry Styles

Chapter 13

"God, yeh smell so good." Harry nudged the door shut with his toe and gripped an edge of Melody's towel. She clung to the fabric, pressing it to her chest.

"Harry," she warned, though there wasn't a note of authority in her voice. Her skin was already tingling where his fingertips brushed her thigh.

"Mel," he retorted in a flat voice. He took a step forward, until she could feel his body heat radiating through the back of her towel. And before she could escape his grip, there were lips grazing her shoulder, a hand folding her wet hair away from her neck. Harry inhaled the scent of her soap and grasped her hip, pulling her against him.

In the past few weeks, since Harry had developed enough strength in his legs to take the lead in bed, he'd been relentless. And this week he'd forgone his cane completely. He still wasn't satisfied with where he was at, but it was enough for Melody, especially when her rib made it nearly impossible for her to do much more than lay there. And she was having trouble denying his requests for "physical therapy."

"Harry," she repeated as his mouth worked its way up the side of her neck. His hand slipped through the gap in her towel and pressed to the bottom of her belly. She was already thinking about the way he'd felt last night, when he'd had to take it slow because Bea was in the living room. Slow didn't mean gentle, he'd reminded her. Her thighs still ached.

"We don't have time."

"We could just stay here," he mumbled against her ear. She shivered. "Let me fuck yeh into next year."

"No," she whispered, though it was weary. Her fingers were growing loose around her towel. "No, I—"

"Just say your rib's hurtin' yeh too bad, yeah?"

"Harry," she whined, and it was a testament to her willpower that she was able to pull away from him. Her heart was hammering wildly against her tender ribcage. "Later. Please." She took a breath just deep enough that it wouldn't bother her injury as she turned around. "Please," she repeated.

Harry looked put out. He tipped his head back and sighed, then nodded. "Yeah, later. Sure."

"I'm sorry," she told him.

"Mel, shut up," he said with a chuckle.

She smiled and took a step closer to him, rising onto her toes to deliver a slow kiss to his lips. He groaned into her mouth and hooked an arm around her waist.

"Is it later already?"

She laughed, slipping out of his hold with a final peck. "Not even close."

"Fine. Can yeh put some clothes on, then? Before I change my mind." There was a smirk on his lips, but the words sounded distinctly threatening. Melody wasn't taking any chances. She slipped around him and began to rifle through the closet without another word.

***

In the years that he'd lived in this city, Harry had never seen Brute's so full. The bar was so packed with people that they were overflowing into the street, dancing near the entrance to the warehouse despite the cold December weather.

"Of all the places to spend New Year's Eve," Harry muttered beneath his breath.

"Josie is working," Melody reminded him from where she clung to his arm.

Harry rolled his eyes, facing away from her so that she wouldn't see. Bea might have begun to grow on him, but Josie had not. And he still didn't like Bea enough to spend a holiday at Brute's just so she could be near her girlfriend.

Any other bar would have been crawling with cops if there were this many people drinking out in the street. But this area was safe from their slimy hands thanks to Goodman. Which also meant that anything could happen tonight and the police wouldn't be there to help. Harry was surprised to realize that after everything they'd done to him, to Melody, he found their lack of presence unsettling.