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R.HAMILTON
If Saturdays were half days, Sundays had the right to be closed days. It gave plenty of opportunity for the staff to enjoy their access to the Hamilton Clubhouse—or as most preferred, away from it.
Most but not Harry Styles.
Surprise struck River from head to toe when she happened to set eyes on the enemy. Dramatic approach perhaps but true nevertheless. For no one opposed threat to River Hamilton like Harry Styles. Their arguments, though verbal and never harsher than what she experienced with her brothers, nicked away at her with every occasion. Entertaining, certainly, so maybe she had no reason to have such stand against the man.
Harry positioned himself. Measured the distance. Swung.
Almost perfect. The fault in his swing laid in his posture. No foundation to build great stability. His hands gripped the golf club just as someone who's never played golf before would.
Looking at his form now, River understood why he lost that random game between them a while ago.
The one they played the week of the theatre. It was impulsive on River's end because she made herself sweaty and late for a board meeting. Granted, she had a swell time beating the manager into the green grass with every perfect swing.
Now, though, as she watched and physically cringed, she chose to stop her own game.
"Stick out your ass," she heard herself say, voice echoing back to her. River leaned on her golf club and crossed her foot over the other.
Harry seemed caught off guard as he snapped his head backwards. Voice low, he swore, and palmed his chest over his white crewneck like it would ease the rapid beating of his heart. Silk-like chocolate curls blew with the wind, parted down the middle like a Prince. River couldn't help it when her eyes shifted lower, and lower, then leisurely took in the firmness of his thighs, both of them revealed by the forest green cotton shorts he wore.
Unaffected by River's obvious stare down, Harry turned away, slotted his golf club with the rest then started pulling it away from her. Without a comment.
The—lack of—reaction made River tilt her head in confusion. What was his issue? Usually, he couldn't wait to bite back, and leave River with her blood boiling. Every time they interact, tension lingers in the air like the constant nagging feeling of anxiety. Strange, River concluded, how much she missed the come back from Harry.
Then again, to state she missed the reaction would imply she cared about the man. An assumption which couldn't be farther from the truth. No foundation laid beneath those ideas because... well, River didn't know Harry to begin with.
Besides, based on the fact that Harry disliked River for some unknown reason to her, is enough of a reason for River to not want to bother with him. Why waste energy on people who do not deserve it?
It would've been easy for Harry to give up. No one, especially not River, would've stopped him if he chose to up and leave the field.
Yet, for whatever reason, he stuck it out.
Tens of missed hits and he sucked it up. Took it on the chin like it didn't hurt his ego to be quite so terrible at the game. All along, River worked her way across like the pro she had grown to be. Each swing was perfection and it drew Harry's attention. Never when River looked at him—only when she focused on the ball.
"I don't mind giving you some tips," she heard herself say after she hit the ball, attention still on the flying globe. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Harry snatch his head away from her direction once he figured he'd been caught.
River took time to face Harry as she lived for the dramatics of life. The smug grin on her face was an added bonus until she saw the frown on his face, the pureness of his irritation. It seemed like every time River spoke, Harry turned into himself and did everything in his power to push her away, to deflect, and only radiate negativity towards her.
"Is something the matter?" River asked like she would of if it had been anyone else. All her life, River cared. Whether it was about someone she didn't gel with or someone closest to her heart, she gave, she nurtured, she cared. Harry seemed genuinely troubled.
"Why do you care?" he questioned with coldness that resembled icicles and crisp snow in Courchevel in France. While it was the expected response from Harry, and somewhat understandable if he truly had something going on, River would've appreciated a nicer answer.
"Your mood is ruining my game," she said with a little bit more of the directness that she usually approached him. Some definition to her tone to even out the softness of her question from a moment ago.
"Move," he said. "No one is holding a gun to your head."
River raised her eyebrows as she dared him to go on but he remained quiet and sulked more. When she didn't respond, Harry continued on to the next hole like their conversation didn't happen.
"You know..." she kept on to push Harry to ease her curiosity. From the first moment she laid her eyes on him, she thought he was interesting. If not because of the way he kept her at an arm's length, then because River thought everyone was interesting. Harry appeared closed off, and incredibly private. Both of which River didn't feel she could relate to. "I come here a lot when I can't make sense of things."
Once again, as River anticipated, Harry left her hanging. Similarly, his lack of hit backs from earlier, and right now, further poked at River's curiousness and wrestled with her until it won.
"There is something freeing in minimising your feelings into the swing and hitting the ball away with the force like you are ridding yourself of what's troubling you," she explained, even though Harry likely ignored her. Somehow, the raw honesty felt right to show, to be vulnerable with him because he didn't care enough to make River feel any type of way. Interestingly, she realised in that moment, she enjoyed the conversations—bickering—between them for that very reason.
Suddenly, Harry stopped and turned on River. The distance between them didn't feel spacious enough. "I came out here to be alone in silence. I do not need tips, I do not need lessons in golf. I do not want to listen to your voice, and I do not want to listen to my own. Am I being clear, or do I need to rephrase myself?"
If River thought she received a hateful look before, she was wrong. For the fury blazed in Harry's eyes, set his jaw in a firm line which made it seem sharp enough to cut through flesh. He made her feel small and embarrassed, regretful for caring and wanting to help him in any way she could. To be honest, River never encountered anyone who didn't appreciate being related to in a bad moment but she supposed there was a first for everything.
Unlike her usual self, Hamilton felt herself close up physically as her shoulders curled forward, her skin covered in goosebumps from the intensity of his stare, the harshness of his gaze.
Without another sound, she turned away from Harry and continued to play golf like the man was not there. She positioned herself, swung, then moved on. Each time, more aggressively than before. River practically threw her shoulder out as she worked her anger into the swing and aimed for the ball, representing Harry's head, to hit successful.
"Jesus Christ—can you calm down?" she heard the rumbling waring of Harry's distaste after she nearly took his head off with her golf club. In her defence, she did not see him as he appeared from behind her but she said nothing as she simply walked away from him. "Are you seriously pissed because I said I wanted to be alone?"
"I am not," she said before she swung again. The head of curls, and globes of green eyes, soared through the sky. River looked at him, and smiled, overbearingly sweet as she said, "Pissed."
Surprisingly, Harry laughed with his face towards the sky, his throat bobbed as the sound travelled from his chest. It was deep and almost felt comforting, a strange way to describe it but similar to a warm embrace at the end of the day.
"You are swinging around that golf club like you are hunting down your dinner."
"I'm sure you would know what that looks like."
"How else would I have made the comparison if I didn't know?"
River's mouth opened. Then closed. She exhaled and pressed her lips into a tight line. While the rapid back and forth came easy to her, she somehow always walked into situations that she couldn't get out of. Especially with Harry.
"You know what?" she addressed him casually. Calmly. Harry raised his eyebrows as if to dare her to go on, speak. "I don't have to talk to you. I don't have to tell you anything."
"I never said you did," Harry shrugged, his weight pushed to one side as he leaned on his golf club. A position in which River found herself in on more than one occasion. For whatever reason, she felt like he mirrored her actions. "But then I'm sure you understand why I came out here."
Unable to hold back, River rolled her eyes. Time to admit: he got her there.
The words were on the tip of her tongue. The thoughts that she wanted to spew and be honest with him. To tell him she asked because she cared—even if it was for a moment. Once he set his hateful gaze on her, she wanted to be as far away from him as possible. No one who's as mean as Harry looked deserved her kindness.
"So you could've just agreed with me when I explained why I usually come here alone," she commented to say something. There was only so many times she could let him have the last word without her feeling gobsmacked.
"I could have," he replied.
"Why didn't you?"
Harry shrugged, picked up his golf club, and walked to the next hole.
Alright, she thought. Extremely weird but then again, this was Harry. If River knew one thing, it was how weird he could be. Entirely different to the people she was used to, though she didn't yet know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
As she watched him swing, and miss again, she decided instantly that it was a bad thing. People she knew were decent at the game. Harry was terrible. If it had been up to River, she would've banned him from any and every golf course in existence, merely to save lives.
Hamilton took it up on herself to pause her game, and said: "I will tell you why I'm here if you let me teach you how to play."
"Like I said, I don't—"
"You do," she insisted. "You can't keep that form and expect the ball to go where it needs to go."
"I'm not here to practice for a championship or—"
"Why not?"
"What?" his voice went high-pitched. "I have a job. Why would I be practicing for a champ—"
"Don't you have goals? Don't you want to aspire to be the best?" she hammered him with questions as she cut him off for the third time. The displeased look on his face didn't go unnoticed by River but she didn't stick to it longer than to acknowledge. "You must excel at everything you do, otherwise you shouldn't even do it."
Harry gave her a hateful look before. Now, he gave her a look that made River feel stupid. How was he capable of communicating so much without uttering a word? Better yet—how did River understand everything he conveyed through those emerald eyes of his?
"That mentality is not healthy," he told her without the judgement she was prepared to hear. Judgement and Harry meant the same thing to River, and she couldn't lie about it. Something in the way he perceived her, and everything around her, gave her this expression. "I hope you're not living your life believing that."
"What should I believe, then?" she wondered, a slight tilt to her head that proposed challenge. "That doing things half-assed will lead me to success? That things will fall into my lap simply because I wish for them?"
"Considering where you come from, yes," he admitted. Blunt as always. River almost took it to heart but then remembered this was just another chat with someone who made no difference to her life. This was just another chat that she'd have at a fundraiser, at an auction, at the goddamn race.
A conversation to shrug off.
River sighed, and offered anyway. "Like I said earlier, you need to push your ass out more and palm the golf club so your pinkie touches your thumb. You need to tower your body on top of itself like when you play Jenga to give you a good foundation."
Whether Harry listened or ignored her advice was unclear until they both continued to play in silence, then River glanced back at him randomly. River tried her best to be as inconspicuous as she could be while Harry followed her advice.
Although his form was nowhere near perfect, he towered his weight like she suggested. Perhaps scared of humiliation, Harry continued to keep his butt under himself but at least his hands gripped the club much better.
When he swung, the ball flew straight ahead, rather than to the side like it had done all morning.
A faint version of a proud smile wanted to brighten River's face but she honed in her facial expressions. No feeling proud of this man, she convinced herself. Not when after this they will continue to act like they don't know each other. And especially not when he's been nothing but against her on every occasion.
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River couldn't stop thinking of Harry.
Hours had gone by since she left the golf course. In those hours, she'd already been to the bank for a meeting, signed up for all the classes she had her eyes on this week, and planned a cocktail party with Mila and Aaliyah because it had been a while since the last one.
Plenty to do, plenty to consider, and yet—Harry. The way he took her words and applied them to his approach then succeeded. Pride burst through her chest like the bath bomb she dropped into the freshly filled tub before her. She'd never been one for these trends but it smelled amazing—vanilla and sandalwood—and she couldn't help herself.
Stripped naked, jewellery placed into the tray along with her watch, she sank into the deep tub until the water covered her chin. The jets turned on eventually, easing the pain in River's lower back as she thought of Harry. Eyes closed, she welcomed the sight of him even as she grimaced and fought the awkwardness of it.
Why would she think of him in such a vulnerable moment? Naked, and in the bath.
Yet all her mind could focus on was the way he held the golf club earlier. Precision and strength applied until the veins in the back of his hands became visible, ran up to the crook of his elbows. She imagined they'd provide him with ample support to remain above her, never faltering even as he used one hand to dip beneath the warm water.
River sighed as her nipples peaked beneath the bubbles and sent a shudder through her body, straight to the sensitive apex of her thighs when she ran a hand down her chest. The feeling left her thighs to squeeze for friction but her thoughts told her otherwise. The thoughts of Harry as he kissed his way down the curve of her soft neck, only to replace his lips with his hand around her throat.
One hand imitated the thoughts she wished for while the other sank between her thighs. Warm and slick from the images, the caresses of her light fingers, she sucked her bottom lips into her mouth as she ran her forefinger down her slit.
Empty walls echoed back her satisfied moans when she touched her swollen clit, wet from her arousal, eager from the need to be brought to a heaven safe between the walls of her home.
River's toes curled and she mouthed a desperate, "Harry," as if she pleaded for the non-existent person above her to give her the ecstasy she needed.
Switching between her throat, and her heavy, pebbled breasts, she found her rhythm to pleasure. Teasing and taunting, pure bliss beneath the scented water. River's heart pounded in her chest and filled her ears the longer she teased her clit with her fingers, Harry appearing behind her closed eyelids, his hands, his lips that spew hateful words—but gods.
"That feels so... so good," she sighed into the quietness, into the nothingness, as she aided her happiness, hidden in the water. Never close enough to let herself finish because she'd pulled herself back. "Fuck," she panted when the thought of Harry watching her pleasure herself invaded her mind. "God damnit," she cursed as she continued the motion of her fingers, half excited, half mortified.
All of it felt so good. Too good to stop. Amazing enough to push herself around and closer to the edge of the bath where the softest jet continued to push the water out. River didn't need to overthink it as she spread her legs, one slightly bent, and held onto the edge for dear life.
The things he would say to her continued to colour themselves to life in her mind. The filthy words that he would use to instruct her, to praise her—'that's my good girl' and 'are you gonna make that sweet pussy of yours come for me?'.
"Oh, my god," she whimpered as her head fell back, the lights soft against her closed eyes. The pressure of the jet against her clit was phenomenal. It never got old. "Mhm—yes... please," she moaned as she chased her high, hips beginning to grind against the jet.
Starting to feel dizzy, stars sliding past behind her eyelids, River leaned her forehead on her arm for reprieve. At any point, she could've pulled back and stopped. It wasn't like she'd never done it before. But this time—that wasn't an option this time.
Not when she wanted the water pressure to be Harry's tongue more than she wanted to edge herself, and build up an intense orgasm for the next time she found some alone time. Not when her teeth sank into the soft flesh of her forearm as the burning sensation built-built-built, and she pinched, pulled, rubbed at her sensitive breasts.
"I'm gonna come, Harr—I'm going to come," the words were muffled and her throat couldn't take the moan that filled up her chest. "I'm com—coming," she whimpered as her hips rode against the jet, her clit too sensitive for the assault even though it felt so fucking good at the same time.
River whined and panted as the climax worked through her body, now weak, spent, but satisfied more than she imagined she would be tonight. Sweat made her armpits sticky, the nape of her neck covered in hair as it stuck to her skin. She remained leaning against the edge of the tub for what felt like forever, with a smile so wide on her face that she didn't even bother wiping it away.
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Happy Friday!
Today's chapter brought us something new, and something certainly exciting for River.
We also had a little look into what happened during their first game together, and tbh, it was expected. Harry against someone as skilled as River - he never stood a chance oops. She'll teach him though so no worries <3 She'll be the best gf!
Hope you enjoyed this one! Next week's chapter should be fun, too :D
See you then!
Love, B xx