H
You’re just like Louis.
You’re just like Louis.
You’re just like Louis.
Four simple words have haunted me for the past two days. Getting groceries, writing songs, hell even when I was inside Amanda did that statement reverberate through my head. I just can’t seem to shake them.
Or maybe I can’t seem to shake how disgusted and hateful Aspen sounded when she spit them at me.
Either way, I’m pissed.
I’m aware that I may not be the nicest, most selfless, gentlemanly, considerate… Okay, what the fuck? I’m kind of an arsehole sure, but to compare me to that Tomlinson fucker? That’s like comparing Strawberry Shortcake to Satan.
I’ve had the displeasure of meeting Louis a few times and each time he becomes more and more of a twat. Cheater, liar, drug-addict, skeeze, the list goes on. But, none of those aspects affect me as much as the fact that he hurt Aspen. I don’t know to what extant or why, but I know the scar is deep enough for her to stop doing something she loved and for her to hate the male species.
Or just me.
Whatever the case, the fact that she compared me to the man that tore out her heart and spit on it hurt more than it should. Not because I like her –because I don’t- but, simply because I owe Aspen a lot. I’ve owed her for almost two years now.
I owe her my whole career, my whole life, and she doesn’t even know it. I promised myself then that I would find a way to make it up to her somehow, but the fact that I have a constant urge to bend her over a table is proving that keeping that promise may be harder that I thought.
I know that attempting to fuck her in the bathroom of some dingy club while Amanda was right outside was probably the wrong thing to do, but fuck if I couldn’t take the tension between us anymore. The second that I saw her in that tight, low-cut dress I almost finished in my pants right then and there.
But, I’m choosing to focus on how angry I am at her for going too far and by the constant glare that Aspen has been giving me, I’m assuming that she is doing the same.
The rest of the band is currently arguing over the set list for the next gig, but Aspen and I remain silent, only glowering at each other in a silent battle. Despite how livid I am mentally, physically, my body is betraying me. My skin is practically on fire from her steady hazel gaze and I shift in my seat slightly when she runs her tongue over her lip.
The same lip that I had captured between my teeth just two nights ago… the same breasts that are pushed up by her crossed arms are the same ones that fit perfectly in my palm… those long tan legs crossed at the knee were once wrapped around my hips…
“Earth to Haz! Earth to Aspen!” Avery’s high-pitched voice pulls me from my dirty thoughts and I casually grab a throw pillow from the leather couch to cover my growing bulge. But, by the smirk on Aspen’s full lips, I know she saw it. However, her flushed cheeks and rapidly rising chest tell me that I wasn’t the only one reminiscing.
“Jesus, what is up with you two lately? Starin’ at each other like that and refusing to speak. If I didn’t know any better, I would say that you two banged or something.”
Avery immediately begins to cackle and I see Aspen choke as her cheeks flush. She begins to sputter incoherently before I look up at Avery with a devilish smirk.
“Well, actually-“
“Actually, Harry has erectile dysfunction, so he won’t be “banging” anybody.” Aspen sends me a glare along with a satisfied smirk since it’s my turn to choke.
By now the rest of the band has focused their attention on the two of us and all begin to laugh hysterically at Aspen’s accusations. I feel my anger growing and I lean forward with my elbows on my knees to face her properly.
“Or maybe my willy just shrivels up when you’re around.”
“Oh really? Why don’t you remove that pillow, Curly? Let’s test that theory.”
“You would like that, wouldn’t you? Any excuse to get near my dick.”
“Please, I wouldn’t touch that thing with a ten foot pole.”
“Don’t you mean ‘I would touch your ten foot pole’?”
“You’re disgusting.”
“And you’re a bit-“
“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Enough, you too!” Liam scolds us with a scowl on his face and his hands on his hips as the rest try to bite back their amused laughter. It’s only now that I notice in the course of our banter we have leaned into each other so close that our breaths mingle in the space between us.
My heart hammers in my chest wildly and my eyes dart from her eyes to her lips and back again before pulling away with a cough. I notice that Aspen does the same with a dazed expression on her face before looking up at her brother.
“I know you guys have a lot of hostility towards each other, but you both just better suck it up for the sake of the band. You’re acting like children.”
“But, Liam, Harry is the one-“
“I don’t want to hear it, Aspen. You better make an effort to get along or I’m taking Yoda back to Mom’s.” Aspen is up on her feet in seconds at her brother’s threat and I notice that her skirt has risen considerably from her sitting position.
“You can’t take my dog!”
“It’s a family dog, so I can do whatever I want.” By Liam’s harsh tone, it is clear that this is the end of the discussion and we all watch the exchange with discomfort. Aspen turns from her brother with a huff to send a vicious glare my way.
“This is all your fault.” She spits and I know she is referencing our heated session in the bathroom. As if she didn’t instantly shove her tongue down my throat as soon as my lips touched hers. But, before I can even open my mouth to defend myself she is already stomping out of the room and down the hallway.
My skin warms again in anger, but also desire as I watch her hips sway in that tight skirt as she is walking away from me. She is fucking doing this on purpose, I know it. I’m already hard as a rock and with my elevated anger, I know I need to let off some steam.
“I’m out of here. See you tomorrow.”
I adjust my shirt to cover my bulge and make a mad dash out of Niall’s apartment, ignoring the protests from Liam. I try to calm myself down as I make my way through the chilly London streets. George Bush, my nana, stale coffee, Aspen drinking coffee, Aspen’s mouth tasting like whiskey and coffee, Aspen’s tongue tracing my ear…
A groan shakes my chest and I yank on my curls at the turn of my thoughts. The point was to make my semi go away, not to make me unbearably hard. A sigh of relief escapes my lips when I see my apartment complex in view and I make my way inside quickly.
As soon as I unlock my door and walk into my loft I unbuckle my jeans. I waste no time in slipping my tight jeans down my legs and welcoming the relief I get from getting rid of the restriction. Tossing my jeans on my couch and making my way to the bedroom, I try to push away the images that cloud my mind to no avail.
All the dreams and fantasies I’ve had of how Aspen would taste, how she would feel, what she would look like have become a reality and it’s driving me insane.
The way Aspen felt pressed up against my body, how perfectly her bum fit in the expanse of my grip, how her tongue slid easily against mine, the way her teeth nibbled into the skin underneath my jaw…
A growl escapes my throat as I plop down onto my bed. It’s wrong, it’s so wrong considering how livid I am at her for her harsh words. It’s so wrong considering I went home that night and fucked the shit out of Amanda, but had to refrain myself from calling out a different name.
Even though I know it’s so wrong, my hand trails down my body in a desperate attempt to relieve the almost painful pressure in my groin.
In a very Aspen move, I find myself thinking of a certain word she had defined for me just a week ago: Suc·cumb/verb: fail to resist temptation.
As soon as my fingers make contact with the rough material of my briefs, a low moan slips past my lips. My chest heaves as I palm myself through the fabric, imagining a dainty hand instead of my large one. I close my eyes to rid myself of the dirty images in my brain, only succeeding in intensifying them and my hand slips beneath the band of my underwear to pull them down my thighs. As soon as my hand makes contact with the silky skin a shiver crawls up my spine in relief.
I imagine Aspen in front of me now; her hair as wild as it was after I ran my hands through it, her lips swollen and pink as evidence of my assaults, her eyes wild with lust and drink, and that fucking pink dress hitched all the way up to her thighs.
I can almost feel her nails lightly trailing down my chest, her soft lips molding against the skin below my ear, her voice calling out my name in a desperate whisper.
A whine leaves my throat as I slip my palm down my length easily, grasping the base before sliding up to roll against the tip. My breaths become shallow as I imagine that it’s really Aspen’s hand working me. I imagine her lips trailing my skin, tongue tracing over my tattoos as she continues to stroke me.
The pressure builds continuously as I imagine her body pressed against mine, her mouth at my ear calling my name. I bite my lip harshly completely succumbing to the images my mind is creating; reveling in them.
My actions grow more desperate as the pressure begins to build. The muscles in my forearms flex as I work faster, more desperate. My torso tightens as the pressure builds and my moans are completely uncontrollable. Images of her sitting on the bathroom counter mix with the fictional one of her stroking me until they blend into one.
As soon as I recall the way my name fell off her lips in a moan as I groped her breast, I’m done for. With one last harsh stroke, the pressure built in my stomach releases and I see white.
“Aspen.” A moan rattles my chest and my limbs shake as I come into my hand, my body sizzling with the aftermath.
My lungs continue to gasp for air as I finally open my eyes and come down from my high. I instantly feel disappointed in myself once I am able to think coherently and I scold myself for being so weak as I wipe myself of on my sheets.
No woman has ever made me so desperate and weak enough to the point where I can’t even wank without images of her popping up. I know that Aspen and I have an undeniable chemistry and I would give anything to fulfill the fantasies and dreams that plague me every day, but that’s all it is. Sexual chemistry.
You’re just like Louis.
And that’s all it will ever be.
____________
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
I had to, whoops. (THE SONG ATTACHED I HAD TOO AHAHA)
Anyway, any predictions on why Harry owes Aspen his career/life? Hmmm? This is a little perspective into how Harry is feeling. I won't always write in his POV, but they will be there sporadically.
BTW, This story reached 10K reads which I think is PFM (Awkard. reference) I know that isnt a lot to some people, but I want to think every single person that takes the time to read this story and comment and vote, you all rock ok. ILY SO MUCH!
Dedicated to Karry because Anchor makes me curl into a ball and cry in the best way possible. Seriously. So good.
Vote + Comment