Chapter 12

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. The plot, Bex and her cohorts are my intellectual property. One Direction...not so much.

Shall we see how the desserts went down???

Enjoy...                                                     

Change Your Ticket

Chapter 12

April 2, 2015

There’s no way I’ll taste vanilla and pears the same way again.  

“Pear...” I sigh as he breaks the kiss.  

“Hmm?” He kisses me softly again.

“Where the hell did the pear come from?” I ask against his lips.

“Um...second plate...” he says as he takes a breath. “It was with the orange and date puree.”

“Mm hmm...dates...” I manage before he takes my bottom lip between that perfect heart shaped mouth of his.  

He nips at it gently, “Do you want to talk about the room service or do you want me to kiss you?”

I open my eyes, “um...”

He growls and sits back, “You need to think about it?”

I grip the chain around his neck, pulling him towards me.  His hand slips across my waist, stopping gently on my back. We end up on the floor, between the couch and table.  After a few pecks, he sighs.  He stands quickly and holds out his hand.

“Come on. If we stay on the floor, I won’t be able to move tomorrow,” he pulls me up swiftly once my hand is in his.

“That wouldn’t be good,” I say adjusting the robe.  I start for my room, but he stops me by taking my hand again.  He guides me gently, his head down as if he’s shy all of the sudden.  He turns and faces me, walking backwards as we pass the in-suite gym.  We enter a set of doors leading us into the private master suite area.

After a second set of doors to the bedroom, I notice his leather carry-on on the cream colored chaise lounge.   I can’t help but take a look around the room.  I never actually made it this far into the master suite.  I’d hung his suit coat in the door for the small hallway and not the bedroom itself.  

This room is decorated in dark wood with cream and gold accents like the entryway.  The headboard on the king size bed is inset into the wall, made of cinnamon colored tiles. A brown, blue and gold geometrically patterned rug covers a large amount of the floor.  His saddle colored, suede boots rest on the floor, next to the small bench in front of the bed.

“What’s wrong?”

Shaking my head, I turn toward him, “Nothing...”

“You’re surveying the room. Haven’t you been in here?” He says pulling his hair out of the bun.  He slips the tied band around his right wrist. He shakes out the curls before flipping it back away from his face.

“No. It was your space. I didn’t want to intrude,” I shrug.

“Hm...I came in the other night and I swear I could smell you all over the room,” He says looking out the patio door.  

“Maybe it was from your suit coat,” I make my way over to the chaise lounge and lightly touch the leather bag. Immediately recognizing the trademark emblem, “Saint Laurent,” I remark.  “You seem to wear a lot of their stuff.”

“I do.” He smirks. The dimple again. “Are you sure you’re not a fan? They seem to know exactly what I’m wearing and how much I paid for it...” He saunters over to the patio door and pulls the curtain closed.  

“I’m a fan of Saint Laurent...not Saint Styles,” I joke.

“Saint Styles...hm...I’m definitely not a saint...maybe a wee bit of a sinner.” He says the last bit in an Irish accent.

I draw in a nervous breath as he walks toward me.  His eyes travel the length of me as he toys with his bottom lip.  He stops mere inches from me, tucking his hair behind his ear.  Both of us in bare feet, he’s still several inches taller than me.

“Well...now that you have me here, what are you going to do with me,” I stare into his eyes.

“Ha...loaded question,” he grips the tie on the robe and pulls me against him. “What I would like to do and what you’ll let me do are two different things.”  His hands make quick work of the tie between us.  He slips both hands under the soft cotton, gripping both my hips.  “What are you going to let me do, Rebekah?”

I feel my skin grow warm from his comment.  My mother has always been a blusher.

Thanks, Mom.

“You’re blushing...” he smiles, running his finger along the apple of my cheek. “That’s promising.”

“You’re a naughty flirt...”  

He shrugs at me. He lifts my chin with his index finger and places the softest kiss to my lips.

My mind starts to race.  What will I let him do to me?  I shouldn’t even be entertaining anything. This is probably the worst idea...

All thoughts cease as he nibbles on my top lip.  Out of natural reflex, my mouth opens. He takes advantage of this.  His tongue brushes mine teasingly.  Again with the pears and vanilla. When I don’t protest, he does it again.  I slowly close my lips around his tongue and suck gently.  He groans as I release him.  

“Dirty Pool, Miss Oliver,” he says as he digs his hand into the back of my hair. He tilts my head to the side and smiles.  As I am about to protest, his mouth covers mine.  Our tongues twist and twirl around each other.  Neither fighting for dominance, just a steady dance for two.

I inhale deeply as he pushes me gently toward the bed.  When the back of my legs hit the bed, I grip onto his arm to steady myself. I’m not sure I’m ready for this.  I feel the hair tie against my palm.  I slip a finger underneath it and wrap my hand around his wrist.

Leaning his forehead on mine, “You alright?”

I’m still in a bit of a stupor, so I just nod.  He pecks me once on the lips as he removes my hand from his wrist.  He entwines our hands and brings them up to the lapels of the robe. I close my eyes and swallow hard.

“Rebekah...I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispers against my mouth. “You are in control. I’m not going to force anything on you.”  

I open my eyes to look at him. All I see is honesty. I nod, “Okay...”

With him guiding the movement, both sets of hands remove the hotel robe.  I self consciously cover myself. Looking down at my feet, I see my skin is still flush with embarrassment. He’s seen me in my underwear before, but for some reason this time it’s different. Maybe he doesn’t like what he sees?  

“Hey...where’d you go?” He rubs his hand along my arm.

“I’m right here,” I answer, avoiding his face at all costs.

“Look at me...”

I take a deep breath and slowly look up.  His brow is furrowed, biting his bottom lip.  He cocks his head at me.

“What’s wrong? If you’ve decided you don’t want to do this, we can stop right now,” He squeezes my arm gently. “I told you, I’m not one to force myself on anyone...and you’re not just anyone.”

“Nervous, I guess,” I shrug. He wraps his arms around my shoulders and pulls me close. Wrapping myself around him, my cheek settles against the soft skin of his chest.  I can hear the rapid beat of his heart. It lessens my nerves a little to know his is beating just as quick as mine. I can smell the faint cologne on his skin. The cool metal of his cross lays against my jaw.

“I’m nervous too,” he says softly. I sigh as he hugs me tighter.

I take a moment and think about all of this.

Should I get involved with him? Probably not...

Do I want to? If I’m perfectly honest with myself, Yes.  I do.

I’m drawn to him, and that scares me.  He is charming, smart. A bit mysterious. I think I’m just as intrigued by him as he is me. Yes, he’s gorgeous; I understand why the fans make such a fuss. But...I’m not one to focus purely on what a person looks like. I’m more apt to be attracted if I can hold a conversation.

Could things get complicated? Could things go sour?

As Gray would say, “That’s life, Love.”

Do I let go, forget about the past and take a leap of faith?

“It’s a long way down,” I mumble, pulling back to look at him.  His eyes search mine a moment.

“What?” He grazes my cheek with his thumb.

Instead of answering him, I make my decision.

My hands glide up and down his back. Still feeling a bit shy, I lower my head and run my nose up the hollow of his throat. My bottom lip drags gently across his Adam's apple. It’s his turn to swallow hard and I press a soft kiss to his skin.

“Rebekah?” His voice is low and raspy.

Gathering a bit of courage, I pull him tighter against me. He groans as I continue on his neck. He throws his head back a little, giving me more access to his skin. I feel the quick beat of his heart against my lips. I rake a hand through his hair, pulling it out of my way and run my teeth against the pulse point.

“Fooking hell...”

I turn us both and push him on the bed. As he falls, warm hands grip my arms taking me with him. I immediately go in search of another sweet spot on his skin.  

He gently moves my hair out of my face, “Are you sure?”

“Am I sure about this?” I ask. He nods. “Right now, yes...”  

“Okay.”

“But...please don’t make me regret it...don’t break me,” I plead softly.

“I won’t...” He says before flipping me over on to my back.

The weight of his body is more pleasant against me than I care to admit. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this.  

My mind tells me to let go of the past. Forget about how the last person who loved me, hurt me.

“You’re gone again...” he says against my lips. Sighing, he lifts his body off of mine.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’d like to know the name of the prat who did this to you,” he growls running a hand through his hair.

“He’s of no importance.”

“Still want his name...”

“Why?”

“His mistakes are making it hard for you to let me in. I’m prepared to put in the work, but I’d like to have a word or two with him.” His voice is angry, but his face shows sadness.

“I’m not going to tell you that. I don’t want you fighting someone who means absolutely nothing to me,” I say turning my body towards his.

“I’m a lover not a fighter,” he laughs. “Seriously though, he obviously does mean something to you because...right now? There’s three of us in this bed.”

“There’s two of us and memories from my past,” I sigh.  “His actions are the issue. I stopped caring about the person a long time ago.”

“Before we go any further with this, I need you to tell me what happened.”

“Can’t you just kiss me and make me forget?” I give him a smirk.

“Tog...why won’t you tell me?” He runs the back of his fingers across my cheek.

“Tog?” He looks at me for a moment, puzzled by what I’ve said. “You just called me Tog...”

He chuckles, “It’s something I call a friend of mine, Matt, sometimes.  He’s a photographer too. Guess you have a new nickname.”

I smile at the thought of him calling me something completely different than anyone else. Most of my close friends call me Bex or B. He’s only called me Bex a handful of times. I like it and wonder if I’ll find a nickname for him.

“Seriously...Why...” he starts but the ringing of his phone again stops the conversation.  “That’s Niall.”  He moves quickly off the bed and over to his bag. He pulls another iPhone from it.

“Nialler?”

I watch as he paces a few times in front of the bed.  He responds to Irish with a few ‘no way, bro’, and ‘okay’. He sighs as he ends the call.

I sit up and wrap my arms around my knees, “Is everything alright?”

“There’s a huge sandstorm. They had to divert to Bahrain. There sitting on a runway,” he says as he walks over to the balcony door.

“Are they OK?” I ask making my way over to him.

“Yeah...”  He is somewhere else.

“Let’s check the weather and see if there will be any problems with our flights,” I yell leaving  the room.  I run quickly to my room and grab my mac, booting it up. When I make it back to his room, he’s on the balcony with a gold mac book open on the table in front of him.  I place mine across from his and sit down.  “What have you found?”  I load my flight information into the airport sight.  My flight is still on time for Friday.  

“Well, according to Ben, they’ll be able to send the other jet back to get us,” he says slowly.

“Us?”

“Yeah, since I can’t fly out today...I’ll just fly in with you on Saturday.”

“Harry, my flight is already booked.”

“Uhm...”

“What did you do?” I raise my voice a bit.  His eyes grow wide as he bites his bottom lip.

“I didn’t do anything,” he says sitting back in the chair. “Ben cancelled your ticket when he found out you weren’t flying out with us. His plan was to send the jet back for you. He didn’t tell you this, did he?”

“No!” I growl while opening my emails. That explains the bank notification. The airline refunded the ticket back into my bank account. After searching back a bit, I find an email reiterating everything Harry has said. I close the laptop angrily.  Immediately, I want to scream.   

“The three of you think I’m incapable of taking care of myself!” I grit my teeth and walk to the opposite side of the balcony.

“That’s not fair, Rebekah. We’re only worried about your safety.” He says behind me.

“This is exactly what I was talking about earlier! Are you or Cal, or Ben even, going to continue to make decisions for me because you don’t think I’m ‘safe’? Mateo did the same thing! I almost lost my contract with Time because of him!” I am screaming at him. The look on his face tells me he’s not used to someone yelling at him like this.  “I’m sorry...” I huff.

“I would never do anything to jeopardize your job. Neither would Ben or Cal,” he says reaching for me as I try to pass him.  “Hey...look at me.”

I stop and take a deep breath before doing as he requested. “How can I trust your word when all three of you have already done things to show you don’t trust my judgement?”

He swallows hard as he looks away from me. “Fair play.”

“If you want me in your life, Harry,” I reach up turning his face back to mine. “You have to trust me. There’s no way we can do this if you can’t do that.”

He searches my face with his eyes before looking down, “I’m sorry. I will do my best to trust your decisions,” he sighs. “You must know that you mean a lot to people and they just want you to be safe, right?”

I run my hand along his jaw and nod, “I know...and one of those people are starting to mean a lot to me too.”

“I don’t want to fight with you,” he answers as I reach for him. Once his arms are around me, he sighs again, “Let’s just go to bed.”

“Okay.”

We shut the curtains on the balcony, turn off all the lights and climb back into the bed. I settle myself on my side, seconds later he’s wrapped around me.  We both sigh at the feeling.

“Mateo, huh?”

“What?” I ask softly.

“His name was Mateo...”

“Yeah...”

“It’s a start,” he quips before placing a lingering kiss to the side of my head.

“Yeah, it’s a start,” I breathe out.

“Goodnight, Tog,” he says placing a kiss to my shoulder.

“Goodnight, Harry.”

                                                                            ~</3~

“Tog...”

I growl and flip the pillow up over my head.

“Rebekah...you’ve got to get up,” the sweet rasp says against my shoulder.

“No.”

“Come on now, Tog.”

“What’s happened to rock and roll?  You should be sleeping until late afternoon, then get up and drink a fifth of whiskey or whatever. You are not a real rock star,” I giggle as he tickles my sides.

“It’s actually after eleven and you have a promise to keep,” he says sternly.  

“Lareto!” I throw the pillow off and sit up. “I’m gonna be late!”

“No, you aren’t. I made coffee and had them bring up some fruit. Go shower,” he offers me his hand.  I take it and allow him to pull me from the bed. “I’ll call for the car.”

I peck him quickly on the lips, “Thank you.”  

Without thinking, I walk into his bathroom. I realize I have none of my things.  I turn the shower on and reach for the bottle of shampoo. The room fills with the scent. The night before flashes through my head. Deciding to not dwell on what could have happened, I quickly finish and step out. I wrap a towel around myself and comb through my hair with my fingers.

When I step out of the bathroom, all of my belongings have been moved into the room. I can hear him on the phone on the balcony, so I rummage through my bag for something to wear. I slip a pair of black underwear on under the towel and turn my back. The door opens as I hook the matching bra at my back.  

“Styles...you need to learn to knock,” I tease.

He clears his throat, “I thought you were still in the shower.”

I pull a pair of denim shorts up my legs, looking over at him, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing...” he says as he stares at me.

“You’re staring...”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he takes four long strides over to me.  One hand holds me against him, the other is buried in my hair as he kisses me deeply. I grip the cotton of the Brittany Spears t-shirt he’s wearing. He’s teaching me a master class on kissing and I’m a rapt student.  Every stroke of his tongue, nibble of his teeth and touch of his hand on my skin, causes me to whimper softly into his mouth.

He places one more soft kiss to my lips and takes a deep breath, “My apologies. I don’t know... I had to kiss you.”

“No worries,” I wipe the side of my mouth with my hand.

“I’ll let you finish getting ready,” he says as he plays with the ring on his finger.

I nod and look at my feet, “Alright.”

He steps back out on the balcony and pulls out his phone again. I slip a grey tank top over my head before finding my comb.  I take one last look at him outside before going back to the bathroom. I run the purple comb through my hair and brush my teeth.

He’s reading something on his phone when I sit down at the table. He lifts the coffee cup before him to his mouth as he scrolls down the screen. I pick up the domed lid on the plate in front of me. A cup of yogurt and fresh fruit underneath makes me smile.

“Everything alright?” I ask taking a sip of coffee.

“I think so. Cal said they are hopefully going to be cleared to leave for Dubai in a few hours,” he answers as he taps something out.

“Will there be an issue for us getting in?”

“It doesn’t look like it, but...” he puts down the phone for a minute. “We might want to leave sooner rather than later. What do you think?”

“If you think we might run into weather issues, we can leave whenever you want. I just need to see Lareto,” I say before taking a spoonful of my breakfast. “What will you do while I’m there?”

“Probably make some plans for Saturday. How do you feel about bungy jumping?” He smirks at me.

“Bungy jumping?”

“Yeah, ya know...strap yourself onto a scaffold and jump off? Have you ever done it?”

“Can’t say I have...” I remark with a shrug.

“Well then that’s what we’re doing.”

“We?  What if Cal has something for me to do?” I sit back and cross my arms.

“Meh...” He waves his hand at me. “I’ll talk him out of it.”

I roll my eyes as I gather the dishes.  

“I just got a text. The car is here,” he follows me into the suite. He rinses the bowl and cups before placing them on the counter for the butler service.  

“Are we coming back here?” I wonder out loud.

“Yeah, we’ll have time to pack up before meeting the jet.”

I nod and go in search of my boots. I find them placed sweetly next to his.  I sit on the bench while he places the mac book back into his bag. He locks the bag before joining me to put his own boots on.

“We should get you some real boots,” he laughs pointing at my grungy work boots.

“I have plenty of boots, thank you! Believe it or not...I have a pair or two of Saint Laurent at home.” I say pushing him. “Don’t be a boot snob.”

“I’m not a boot snob, but those are awful.”

“Don’t hate on my shoes. They’re lucky. I gotta go,” I stand and turn towards him.

“I’m right behind you.”

“Where is the famous Harry Styles going? ” I slip on a flannel over my tank top. My phone ends up in my back pocket; camera case on my shoulder.

“Might do a little shopping,” he winks.

I shake my head as we close the door to the suite.

“Morning, Rebekah...”

My head spins at the sound of the now familiar voice, “Dale!”  I look back to Harry and shake my head. “Should have known you wouldn’t be here without him.”

“Just a precaution.”

“The car is waiting,” Dale says with a sigh.

The two of us follow the man onto the elevator. Once down on the ground floor, Harry taps the stop button and pulls me close to him.

“This is where I have to leave you. Have a good visit and I’ll see you later.” He places a lingering kiss to my forehead. “Dale.”

The doors open and a tall man nods at him as he steps out. The two walk right out the front doors.

“Aren’t you going with him?” I ask as the doors close again, hiding us from prying eyes.

“No, he’s good. I’m with you this afternoon,” the bodyguard says tapping the buttons again.

“I’m perfectly fine on my own. Don’t you think it’d be safer if you were with him?” I step out of the box and search for any sight of Harry.

“Just following orders, Ms. Oliver,” he says in a gruff tone.

“Here we go again...dammit.”

Without waiting for the squat man, I head angrily for the front doors. I recognize the car and driver and stomp my way toward him.

“Morning,” the man says as he opens the door of the suv.

“Whatever...” I growl.

Dale and the man share a quiet laugh as he closes the door. Once they are in the car, I click my seat belt on.

“Dale?”

“Yes, Rebekah?” He turns in the seat smiling.

“Text Mr. Styles, please.”

“Sure...what do you want me to say?” He continues smiling as he pulls out his phone.

“Fucking Trust...”

Dale looks at me, eyes confused, “Trust?”

“No...Fucking trust.”

“Alrighty...” he says punching the two words into the phone.

The driver chuckles as he pulls from the curb.  The first twenty minutes of the ride are quiet as neither of the men know what to do with an angry woman.

I hear Dale’s phone chime several times before he sighs and looks at me.

“What?!?!”

“Harry...wants your cell number,” he says timidly.

“Gimme the damn phone, “ I say shooting my hand out towards him.  He places it in my palm.

I almost type out a harsh message, but in the end, I send the phone number. “Here.” I say shoving it back at him.

Within seconds, my phone chirps in my pocket.  I ignore it.  All the way to Lalela.

Author Note: I have had a craving for pears for the last month...I don't know why. Haha
So...what do you think?  These on set pics of Himself have me missing the man more than I care to admit...~ Lady H. xx