ISABELLA
One of the most satisfying feelings in the world is knowing that your undergarments match. It's a powerful feeling. Being able to match your bra to your underwear was liberating almost. As I stand here in front of the Lonsdale Publishing Company, in my black pencil skirt. I clutch tightly on to my leather bound folder, where my business plan lays.
I take in a deep breath. My nerves growing as I stand out in the blistering cold. A few more minutes pass, before I pull myself together, and walk up the steps. Walking towards the reception, I take another breath, settling my nerves. An older woman sits at the reception desk. Her dark red hair pinned back into a low bun and thin, black rimmed glasses covering her eyes.
My heels click against the tile floor. The sound vibrating throughout the lobby. "Hello. May I help you?" The lady greets me. A warm smile on her lips.
"Yes. I have a meeting with," I pull up the text from Ty with the details of today's meeting. "Beatrice Stephens?"
"Name please?" She asks me, her eyes preoccupied with the computer in front of her.
"Isabella Maxwell."
She types a few things on her computer, before looking up at me. "Right, here you are. Second floor, first door the the right is her office."
"Thank you." I give her a small smile before excusing myself, and head upstairs.
The journey up the elevator feels excruciating slow. Everything that's inside of me is going a mile a minute. My heart beats quick against my chest. This was actually happening. This was the first step towards my future. My career depended on this meeting. Who knew what the outcome could be?
"This is it," I say to myself before walking out of the elevator.
A secretary desk is the first thing I see once entering the office. "Hello, I'm here to meet with Ms. Stephens." She continues to type, not looking up at me once.
"Hello?" She holds her finger up and I quickly shut my mouth. She continues to type while my patience grows thinner.
"Alright, she'll see you now." Not once does she look up at me. Her steady gaze held tight by her work in front.
"Okay..." I turn on my heel and head towards the door. The tall, daunting door that separated me from potentially the beginning of my life.
-
"It was a pleasure meeting you, Isabella." Beatrice Stephens shakes my hand, smiling at me kindly. "You are a bright young woman and this plan is well thought out."
"Thank you, Ms. Stephens." The meeting had gone smoother than I had ever thought of.
Beatrice Stephens was a driven woman. She had started this publishing company all on her own when she was only twenty-eight. She was everything that I had hoped to be in this business. Her passion for literature was admirable. A pure representation of my own passions and dreams.
"Now," she leans over her desk. Taking her glasses off, she folds them shut, and holds them in her grasp. "When I was first starting out, I had done all of this on my own. Just like you, I went to university and built all of this from the bottom up. However, I never had anyone to guide me. Help me learn the ropes of publishing. I had a passion for books and that was all that I had to go off of. I never had any hands-on experience to go by."
I sit straight in my chair. Listening with intent as she continues on.
"I see a lot of potential in you, Miss. Maxwell. You have a drive that I had in myself when I was your age. You are bright and this," she holds up my folder, "Is very thought out. I think it could work out well in the long run. But, before we can start it up, I have a proposition for you."
"What's that?" I ask her.
"An internship," she continues. "I would like to offer you an internship here at Lonsdale Publishing. It would be paid - not much, but enough. You would work alongside me here. Shadow the business and how everything works here. I think it will be a great asset towards your final destination; your own business."
Internship. That was not what I had expected to hear, but a great opportunity at that.
"When would you need an answer by?"
She smiles. "Think about it. Give me an answer in a week?"
"Alright," I nod. "I can do that. Thank you Ms. Stephens."
"Oh, please call me Bea." She chuckles, standing up reaching her hand out to shake.
"Bea, right." I laugh lightly, reaching my hand out to shake her own. "Thank you again for this opportunity."
"It's my pleasure." With one final handshake, I walk towards the door of her office. "We will talk next monday?"
"Yes. I will. Thank you once again." I give a quick glance at the receptionist who, of course, is still focused on the computer.
-
I didn't think it was possible to become completely in awe of another human being. To be at the point of absolute admiration over everything about them, and over everything that they do. It was a mind-boggling idea when I thought about it. Here was this guy. This amazing guy, who chose me. Who one day decided, "Hey, this girl is pretty neat. I think I'm going to like her." Then one day decided to pursue that decision. Which, at the end of the day, could possibly become the best decision you could ever make.
Harry loves me.
For some reason, he decided to love me. He chose me out of all the girls he could give his heart to. For some godforsaken reason, Harry saw something in me and pursued it. Which has led us to where we are now. Fighting with him was horrible. Not something I wanted to experience again. It was a wake up call to remind me of how much he meant to me.
I look at him. Completely taking him in.
He was in my favourite position. Relaxed, with his feet up, and a book in his hand. His bright green eyes were focused on his novel. His thumb and index finger of his free hand holds tightly to his lip. Ah, those plump lips that I have grown very fond of. His brows furrowed in deep concentration. It was a position that I have come across many times over the past year, and it's a position I could never quite grow tired of.
"How's the book?" I ask, breaking him from his reading. If there was one another thing I enjoyed most, it was hearing Harry's thoughts. They were thought provoking. Blunt. Straight to the point. He never shied away from what he thought, regardless of how controversial it could be. It was one of the many things I loved about him.
"It's dry." He comments, placing the paperback down. "I'm not sure where the author is planning on going with it."
"Then why are you still reading it?" I question him, finding it funny that he was still reading a book that was more or less uninteresting.
"I'm only a few chapters in. It could pick up," he shrugs his shoulders.
"That's fair." I smile, placing my own book down.
He turns his body around, giving me his full attention. He smiles at me. The crevice in his cheek showcasing his dimple. Just another part of him that I love so much. "C'mere," he opens his arms up, nudging his head to the side.
Without hesitation, I crawl over towards him. I lean my back against his firm torso. The heat of his body warming me up. Harry's arms wrap around me, bringing me into him completely. "Much better." He whispers against my neck. Goosebumps surface my skin. A direct result of his deep voice murmuring into my ear.
"Mm, I missed you."
"It's only been a day." I gasp. His cold fingers run up and under my shirt. Rubbing lightly against my sides, before his hands fall to my hipbone. One of his hands move to my upper thigh. Where as the other stays put on my hip. His thumb slides into my leggings, resting on the skin.
"Too long." Harry nuzzles his head into my neck. His lips leave warm kisses along the side.
I bite my lip to stifle a moan. His lips continue to kiss my neck, sucking and biting onto the skin. "Harry," I breath out. The name gets caught on my tongue, only to end in a moan. His hair tickles my neck. The long curls becoming more unruly with each day that goes by. Not that I was complaining. His long hair was my favourite style on him.
"So beautiful." He mutters under his breath as he continues to kiss my skin. "Mm, hate fighting. Let's not fight anymore."
"Okay." The more he kisses my neck, the warmer my body grows. I can feel myself become desperate for his touch. The need growing increasingly fast with each wet kiss he leaves. I can feel his growing excitement from under me, only fueling my own desperation.
I shift in his arms. Moving my body around so that I am facing him fully. I take his face in my hands, bringing my lips to his own.
"I really, really hate fighting." I say against his lips. Harry doesn't reply, only bringing his lips back to mine. Gentle fingertips move against my back, back down towards my hips. His grip on my sides loosen as he brings my leggings down.
"Mm, up baby." I do as he asks, hitching my hips up. He slides the thin fabric off of my body, throwing it on the ground. His hands firmly grip my thighs. His fingers digging into my skin. I melt into him. Touching every inch of his body, memorizing every dip of his muscles and hair on his skin.
In a swift motion, he stands up, bringing me with him. "Bed," he tells me as he carries me towards his room.
Tugging his bottom lip into my teeth, I pull it back. Letting go of his lip, I run my fingers into his hair, pulling the ends tight. Harry lets out a low grunt. His own arousal becoming more prominent. I smirk to myself, pleased with his reaction.
"You play dirty." He growls, pushing me hard against the bed. I tug on his shirt. He get's the hit, grabbing the ends of his white shirt and pulling it over his head.
"Much better," I say, admiring the view in front of me.
"I'm sure. But, it'd be much better if this was off too." He motions towards my own shirt. I don't say anything as I pull the long tunic over my head, throwing it to the ground.
Harry doesn't hesitate before his lips are back on mine. Fighting for dominance as he kisses me deeply.
His jeans are tugged off.
Then my bra.
Soon enough, the only fabric left is the thin material of his CK boxers.
"I love you." Harry mutters.
"And I love you," I tell him. Reassuring that in fact, I did feel the same way about him. Regardless of our previous mistakes, I was in love with him. A feeling that I wasn't certain would leave me anytime soon.
Harry hovers above me. His long hair falling against my face. "Mm, so pretty." He leans in to kiss me. He runs his tongue over my lips, deepening our kiss.
He removes his boxers, leaving us completely bare in front of one another. Gently, he runs his thumb over my cheek. "How are you mine?" He mutters to himself. He watches me thoughtfully, his hand cupping my cheek lightly. He moves his body over me- careful to not place all of his weight on top. I feel every inch of him against my skin.
His fingers slip inside of me. I gasp as his cold fingers rub against me. "Mm, so wet. Always so ready for me." I moan loudly as he adds another finger. I feel myself become more aroused- closer to my brink.
Harry removes his hand. "Spread your legs a bit." He leans down, leaving kisses along my thighs. He kisses my lips once before he enters. His movements are slow and steady. His eyes watching me in careful concentration. "Oh," I exhale, shift my body under him. I screw my eyes shut as he fills me completely. I feel myself stretch around him.
"Love, you feel so good around me." I blush at his confession. He eases out of me slowly before carefully reentering. Each motion is steady. His eyes watching me with adoration.
"Baby, what do you want?"
I am at a loss of words. His steady movements bringing intense pleasure whenever he brought our bodies together. "Right there. Oh God." I tilt my head back as the pleasure continues to build. He takes note of each moan that escapes my lips. His brows furrow in concentration as he connects us over and over again.
"Iz." He buries his head into my neck. His hips moving in a slow, steady rhythm. "How do I feel, baby?"
"So good," the words come out in a muffled moan. I move my hips up. Meeting him thrust for thrust.
"That's it." He runs his fingers through my sweaty hair. Tugging at the bottom, he keeps a hold on the long tendrils. "Fuck. That's it, baby."
My heart beats rapidly in my chest. The heat in the pit of my core grows with each slow movement. "Faster," I breathe out, unable to hold it in. I needed him to move. My body slowly becoming unable to hold it in much longer. My desperate need for him becoming unbearable.
"Fuck."
"Harry." I gasp, biting hard onto my lip.
He picks up speed. Moving faster, he shifts up and onto his elbows. He grinds his hips forward, moving at a new angle. He runs his hand down my torso, moving his fingers towards our connection. He starts rubbing me, bringing a whole new sensation.
"Shit," I cry out. My walls clench against him, bringing me closer to the brink. I run my fingers down his back. Sure to leave scratches in it's place
"Holy fuck." He moans out loud as his head tilts back. I can feel my body bounce with each movement he makes. Harry kisses me with an intense passion to match each of his precise movements.
I finally clench tightly around him, bringing us to our brink. We come together, moaning out loud. I feel him spill into me. My name rolling off of his lips. His eyes screwed shut in ecstasy.
Harry pushes me back down on the bed. His eyes look at me with admiration before he is kissing me softly. "Pretty, pretty girl." He whispers, looking at me with gentle eyes. He lays down beside me. He pulls out, leaning his head against his pillow.
"Mm, I hate fighting."
"But the make-up is definitely worth it." I smirk, running my hands over a very, prominent and very purple hickey under his collarbone.
He laughs, bringing me back into his side. I am jelly in his arms. Completely exhausted from our post-argument activities. "Yeah. Very worth it."