(No Control | Holding Me Ransom - 85 - I Can Be Your Vice) 

February 2016

It's a fantastic birthday. The whole day is just perfect. Several times I just look around myself at my friends and family, and Jess, and just think wow. I am so lucky. I know the paparazzi will be on high alert for any kind of birthday celebrations, but we have deliberately chosen low key restaurants that the paps are unlikely to target. We hire a different car to collect us and take us to the restaurants and book under fake names (obviously) to avoid detection. 

I've noticed Jess is becoming more and more relaxed around my friends as the months have gone by and she is getting to know them. I know she worries that she doesn't belong in the celebrity world but she's such an easygoing, friendly and open person that it's hard to imagine anyone she wouldn't get along with. My friends seem to like her - they are chatty and welcoming, involve her in their own conversations outside of my own and make her feel part of the group. Jeff and Glenne always make the most effort - perhaps because they are not "celebrities" (I hate that word) as such and don't have much experience in front of a camera, and can relate to Jess. And of course I know Mum and Robin love her, as does Gemma. Although I've been lucky to have some truly amazing birthday parties, I can honestly say that this year has been my favourite so far, simply because of Jess. 

Gemma' comment about the engagement ring has played a little on my mind ever since Christmas Day. While I know we are still in the early days of our relationship and both still way too young to be jumping into any kind of serious commitment, especially as we haven't even gone public yet... I would be lying if I said the thought of us being together forever hadn't crossed my mind on more than one occasion. 

I take the idea of marriage seriously. I'm sure very few people enter into a marriage without believing it to be for life, but I feel it more deeply than that. I'm not naive enough to believe that nothing can ever destroy a marriage or a relationship, but I do believe in marrying someone with the same dedication to making a relationship work. Right now, making that level of lifelong commitment seems a long way off, but I know that if I ever get married, it will be because I have got to know that person as well as I know myself, and that they will share the same values and commitment to each other as me. 

I've hit it off with girls before. Kendall and I were close when we dated. Nadine and I had a connection that was pretty hot. And I've experienced that spark with other women, that inexplicable pull towards someone that neither of us could explain. Yet... with Jess it's different. It's all of those things rolled into one, plus more; so much more. We have that connection, but not just sexually. It's mentally, emotionally, physically, sexually. Spiritually. I feel as though she is literally part of me, like I'm missing half of me when we're... well, you know the lyrics. And I have never felt this way about anyone else before. Not to this deep, deep level where I can't possibly imagine ever loving anyone else again as long as I live. My relationships are always intense, but... just never this intense. I believe fate brought us together that night last March, and if we hadn't met then, we still would have, some other way. Because she is my soul mate and we were always destined to be together.

And this brings me to my next thought: our anniversary. It's been eleven months since we met and obviously I want to celebrate and mark the day. Jess's comment a couple of weeks ago about going right back to the start has given me a brilliant idea which was been cemented by Callie agreeing to let me have Jess's One Direction stuff back. I haven't really had chance to sort anything out with being in LA, but the morning after my birthday I send her a text:

Hi Callie it's Harry. Did you mean what you said about letting me have Jess's 1D stuff back? Hope you're well.

She replies later that afternoon, just as Jess and I are outwitting a photographer in the YSL shop in Beverly Hills. I leave the shop first and allow the pap to get plenty of shots of me which in turn allows Jess to leave the shop undetected and to head in the other direction to wait for me. As I pull my phone out to text Jess again, I see Callie's reply.

Yes of course. And I meant my apology too. I really am sorry for being such a bitch. I want more than anything for us to call a truce and maybe even try and be friends for Jess's sake? I just want her to be happy. You can have her stuff whenever you want, just let me know. Hope you're good too. 

Wow. Wonders will never cease. I type out a quick reply: 

Thank you. I'm back home in a couple of weeks so maybe we could meet up and I could get the stuff from you. Do you still have the green hoody?

Yes, it's in the bag with the rest of the stuff. Thank you for accepting my apology. Let me know when you're back.

I still don't trust her. I wouldn't put it past her to be setting me up for some kind of a fall. But I have to take this at face value and be civil - at the end of the day, she has what I want and although I can still go ahead with my anniversary plan, I could actually benefit from having one of Jess's friends in on the plan to help me organise it so she doesn't suspect anything. If given the choice I would rather have Sarah's help but I know Callie is closer to Jess and is probably best placed to help me.

I tuck my phone away, jump in my car and drive around the block to collect Jess who is waiting on the corner after her exit from the YSL shop, satisfied that we have evaded the paps again. We want to public on our own terms, not because our hand has been forced.

I wonder if it will somehow tie in with our anniversary? If everything goes to plan and I recreate the evening we met, we would end up in Lagoon. 

Mum and Robin are due to attend the Kevin Hart show on Thursday evening so I use the opportunity to take Jess out for the evening on a date. I'm already thinking that it would be a good time to be spotted in public with Jess, ahead of whenever we decide to announce our relationship, so to speak. We don't discuss it beforehand, but I suspect she's having the same thoughts because she spends ages on her make up in front of my bedroom mirror, and when I come out of the bathroom after my shower I have to look twice at her outfit.

"Oh! The fuck-me dress!"

It's out of my mouth before I can stop myself. She's wearing that lacy peach dress with tiny sleeves that cover just her shoulders. It comes about half way down her thighs, covering enough to look classy but leaving enough on show to make we want to, well, fuck her. Hence the name. 

"The what?!" she exclaims. I feel my cheeks getting hot.

"It's the dress you bought when you first came over to LA last year," I begin. "I was with you when you got it."

"Yes, I remember. You convinced me to buy it," she says, studying her reflection in the mirror as she turns to each side, smoothing the dress over her hips. "Why did you call it the fuck-me dress?"

I give a look of indulgence mixed with disbelief. "Really? Do you want me to spell it out?"

"Well - no," she smiles wryly, "but I was after the meaning behind it."

I clear my throat. "You look hot as fuck in it," I explain. "I watched you try on a zillion dresses, but that one stood out because you just took my breath away when I saw you. So I privately nicknamed it the fuck-me dress. I did tell you the other day that I lost all my cool around you from day one."

"You are so unbelievably cute," she whispers as she comes over to me and slips her arms around my neck.

"No," I reply slowly, as though talking to a child. "I think you mean manly."

"Yes," she corrects herself, in the same deliberate tone, nodding seriously. "That is exactly what I meant."

I look down at her, wondering how she has the power to make me feel this way about her, like I want to show her off to the world but also keep her all to myself and never be away from her. Speaking of showing her off...

"You know there's a high chance we could get papped tonight," I tell her gently.

"Yeah, I sort of thought that might be the case," she nods. She doesn't look bothered by this thought. 

"Do you want to let them get pictures of us together?"

"Well, I suppose it couldn't hurt. A couple of pictures of us having dinner together could pave the way for letting the world know."

We're on the same page. (I'm relieved we're no longer in different libraries.)

"Exactly what I was thinking," I agree. "We can play it by ear; see what the vibe is."

Once I am dressed I take a selfie of us both and send it to Jess. "I don't have many pictures of us," Jess says a little sadly. "Not from the early days, anyway."

"Well, we didn't really take that many did we?"

"I took a few," she admits. "But I deleted them, along with everything else. One of those, seems-like-a-good-idea-at-the-time kind of moments."

"I can send you the ones I've got," I offer, remembering the one I took of us after we'd been for a coffee just before I flew out back on tour last March. 

"Yeah, that would be good," she smiles as we head downstairs to get our jackets.

"Do we hold hands as we walk in?" she asks nervously as we approach the restaurant an hour later. 

"That's up to you," I answer quietly. "If we're pictured, that's as good as going public immediately. If you want to test the water and do it slowly, avoid anything that looks relationshippy."

"So I shouldn't push you up against the wall and rip your shirt off?" she quips in an undertone, and my mouth twists into a smirk as we walk into the restaurant and are greeted by a member of staff.

"Feel free," I murmur in her ear. "I dare you."

She giggles nervously and I'm delighted to see a flush creeping up her neck. I love it when she tries to get a reaction out of me, and I love it even more when I call her bluff.

Once we're seated I watch as she glances around to check if we have been spotted but so far we seem to have slipped under the radar. "Of course, because we're prepared to be spotted, you know it's more than likely that we won't be, don't you," I remark. 

"I guessed that might be the case," she smirks. "The best laid plans of mice and men, and all that. But that doesn't matter. I'm not here to be spotted, I'm here to be with you. So I'm not going to think about it again - I'm just going to enjoy the evening."

"Good plan," I nod, and we clink our glasses.

A couple of fans come over and ask for photos, and agree not to post them on any social media to allow us the evening to enjoy ourselves without a crowd waiting to mob us when we leave, but apart from that we make it back to the car without being recognised, even though the paps are usually hanging around Ysabel on the offchance of a picture of someone they can print.

To my knowledge we escape unspotted the following evening too, when we head out for another meal with Jeff and my friend Justin but I'm all too aware we only have a short time left together before Jess flies back home and I won't see her for two weeks. With this in mind I keep the evening fairly short and we're back at my house in bed and watching TV before ten thirty. 

"What are your plans for the next couple of weeks?" Jess asks as I'm stroking her arm, her eyes on the TV.

"A few things," I answer. "There's a pre-Grammys gala - on Valentine's Day actually - which is being held in honour of Irving. Azoff," I add unnecessarily. I know she knows who he is but she's never actually met him. "Jeff mentioned yesterday that Zayn might be on the guest list too. And I've got a few days booked in a recording studio in West Hollywood to record some new music."

"Have you written more songs?" she asks in surprise, lifting her head from my shoulder so look at me. 

"I have a few lyrics in my head," I confirm.

"I heard you singing one in London," she says, watching me carefully. "Something about choosing your words?"

"Maybe."

"Can I hear it?"

I pretend to consider this. "Nope."

"Ohhhh," she whines. "Why not? I'm not going to tell anyone!"

"I know that," I scoff. "It's just not ready yet. It isn't even a song, it's juts a few lyrics and half a melody. It's only at the idea stage."

"Can I hear it when it's done?"

"If it ever makes it to a full song, yes." 

Of course she will. It's about her. Everything I'm writing at the moment is about her. If I ever release my own solo album I might as well just title it Jess. 

She seems satisfied by my agreement and presses me no further. "So you fly back on the twenty first?" she asks, nestling back into the crook of my arm, and I nod.

"I'll make sure I'm spotted shopping in Beverly Hills or something, on the day I'm flying back. It'll buy me a couple of days' privacy when I get home, as long as I'm not spotted at either airport."

"I love it when you use your celebrity status to your own advantage," she remarks. "It must be very satisfying for you. It certainly is for me."

"It can be, sometimes," I concede. "Are you looking forward to your flight with Louis tomorrow?"

"Well, I'm not looking forward to flying home, away from you," she says. "But it'll be more fun travelling with him than flying by myself."

I know she's playing this down out of respect for me, and I hate that I can't stop hating it.

"He's going to be in full show-off mode," I mutter, unable to help myself, and when she lifts her head to look at me I grab a pillow and put it over my face so I can't be seen.

"I thought we were over this," she says, tickling my side so I am forced to laugh.

"We are," I mumble into the pillow before it is yanked off my face.

"Really?" she smirks. "You might want to let your face know."

I grab her and roll on top of her so she can't get away and tickle her until she screams.

"Say sorry!" I demand.

"Harry!" 

"Say it!"

"Sorry!" she squeals, and I stop immediately, watching her face as her laughter subsides and she watches me, panting and grinning.

"Should think so too," I announce. "Now, what to do with you as I've got you completely under my control...."

She eyes me thoughtfully. 

"You could fuck me senseless?"

"I could," I agree, trying to keep a straight face. "But I really shouldn't reward such poor behaviour."

"It would be mutually beneficial," she argues as she pulls my face to hers and plants a gentle kiss on my lips.

"True," I murmur. I close my eyes as she kisses my neck gently, her lips brushing my skin and sending goosebumps down my chest and straight to my dick.

"So what do you say..?" 

"I say... I've never truly got you under my control because it is, and always has been, completely the other way around," I admit, allowing her lips to press against mine again.

"I categorically refute this claim," she whispers back. "I'm the one with no control, remember."

"No control," I echo as I lift her top up and skate my fingers over her skin. I can see her nipples harden through her top. "Hardly. You're the one holding me ransom." 

OK I know that was corny but I couldn't resist. I grin at her and nudge her with my erection and she rolls her eyes. 

"It should be holding me to ransom," she declares as her fingers make their way to the witsband of my boxers. "The words are wrong; they don't make sense."

I frown at her and she looks up at me. "Seriously?"

"Yep. And don't even get me started on You and I."

"What's wrong with You and I?" I demand.

"Nothing can come between You and I," she sings. "It should be nothing can come between you and me. It's grammatically incorrect. It drives me insane."

Well. Every day's a school day.

"Wow. Any other lyrical potholes you want to highlight, while we're discussing it?" I wonder.

"Plenty, but I thought you were supposed to be fucking me senseless," she retorts as she slips her hand down the front of my shorts and curls her fingers around me.

"She says, without even a trace of innocence," I fire back. "Oh baby yeah." Fuck, that feels good. Her hand moves down slowly, applying gentle pressure. "I'm powerless, but I don't care, it's obvious."

I open my eyes to check her reaction: she's grinning at me, so I grin back and close my eyes again.

"What's with all the No Control puns? They're a bit corny."

"Would you say they're sweet and sour?" I joke, lowering myself on top of her as she opens her legs and I lean down to kiss her collarbone.

"You've lost your senses," she fires back.

"Ha!" I laugh. "Nice. Now come on. I've got a loaded gun here for you."

It's going to shoot its load if she carries on stroking me like this, up and down with increasing speed.

"I'm defenceless," she moans as I pull her top down to expose her nipple. I graze my tongue over it, causing her to whimper softly. 

My hand slips between her legs, rubbing my finger against her and she pushes her hips towards me, her eyes closing in pleasure. This right here is what dreams are made of.

---***--- 

Starting as I mean to go on by posting this update! It's the start of NaNoWriMo and I am currently working on Chapter 92 and 93, but this one was ready to go. I'll be back again with another update soon xx