YES I WANT THE PREVIEW PLEASE!
“Oh, please. You’re all talk” you shrugged off your boyfriend, wriggling your eyebrows and turning on your heel, leaving your dumbstruck, jaw slacking, smirking boyfriend behind you as you opened the front door. Tossing the keys into the bowl and shrugging off your jacket, you heard his boots click in on the hardwood floor of his home, the door shutting and locking behind him.
“Yes, I can!” He continued, even though you were halfway into the kitchen by now, leaving him by the door as he took off his expensive boots.
Nothing at all sounded better than the bottle of wine you’ve been thinking about since after his dinner meeting, you all but sighed when it came into view on the rack in his kitchen. Grabbing two stemless wine glasses from the cupboard, you set them on the cool granite, reaching into the familiar drawer under you for a cork screw.
“You need to give me a chance” you heard him behind you suddenly, jumping and gasping just a bit, clutching the corkscrew to your chest. The moment you opened your eyes and swallowed, he was leaning up against the counter next to you, that stupid smirk on his face, plucking the corkscrew from your hand, the bottle in his other hand.
“What if I beat you?” you challenged, wriggling your brows and circling the massive granite island before you, perching yourself on one of the barstools across from him, your elbows on the cool stone, licking your lips.
“Oooo, love”, he swiftly removed the cork from the bottle, pouring the liquid into both glasses, plopping a wine stopper into the bottle and joining you on the stool next to you, handing you your drink, “is that a challenge?” he leaned in close and smiled, taking a sip from his glass.
“Possibly”, you shrugged, “but I think I’ll win”, you smirked and took a sip from your glass, eyes trailing off from him to the living room in front of you.
“Confident little thing, aren’t you?” his free hand was now on your ear, tucking your hair behind it. Glancing over, you sipped from your drink again, blushing faintly. He took notice.
“Looks like I’m already winning”, the back of his index finger danced over your cheek and you huffed, putting your wine glass down on the table, turning to face him.
“Don’t be so sure, Styles”, you glared standing from where you were, slightly annoyed that he was taking you from your wine. It was your turn to put your hand on his face, cupping his cheek, your cold fingers making him shiver a bit, leaning in to kiss his forehead slowly, “bedroom. Now.”
Your lips left his skin and once again, you turned from him and made your way into the bedroom, this time is hand was holding yours. Butterflies started to creep in your stomach at the coming events, the anticipation and sheer excitement that he was okay with experimenting, this early in your relationship, made your ears burn.
Before you hit the threshold of the bedroom, you glanced over your shoulder to only make your stomach jolt even more: he was smirking, the shirt he was wearing was halfway un-buttoned, eyes half-lidded, holding his large hand in yours, the other hand still holding a glass of wine, taking a tiny sip.
Stopping, you turned to face him, he bumped your chest lightly, his half-lidded eyes peering down at you, bottom lip stuck between his teeth.
“Hello”, he hummed playfully.
“Wait here”, you were so drunk off of his smell, his aura, his everything – that you were tempted just to give up and let him have this, let him have you, let him win – but somehow, you caught your second wind and watched him take another sip of his wine, pushing his chest further into you when your hands rested on his pectoral muscles, taking a step back, “come in before I say so and I’ll chop your balls off” you peered and pointed your finger, fleeing to the bedroom, closing the door on him.
Even though you were crashing at his place this weekend, you knew you had to have packed something, some sort of toy, that if, just in case, this conversation came up, you’d be ready. And here it was, right before you, as you ransacked your bag, in the tiny zippers and compartments, swearing yourself off that you didn’t’ think about this – until your fingers landed on it. You could cry of happiness when you took it out and realized it was not just what you needed, but it was the right one. Grabbing a few more things, you hid it in his nightstand quickly and made your way back to the door, glaring at it to see that it was opened just a hair.
“Hey!” you swung the door open and put your hand on your hip, “what did I tell you?” his finger was pointed out as if he had been poking the door, the cockiest grin on his face.
“I didn’ open it allllllll the way”, he rolled his eyes and made direct eye contact with you, his free hand wrapping around your waist, “may I come in, now?”