Cult

37

Without even realizing, I find myself touching the chain around her neck and following it down her crease. She slaps my hand away.  

"Excuse you.”

I move my hand back. I wasn’t trying to touch her tits; I just wanted to know where she got that necklace from. It looked familiar, but not in a good way.

After blinking a few times, I focus my gaze on her eyes. She’s incredibly stubborn and stiff, but that sort of makes her pretty damn hot. She watches my face with about as much curiosity and eagerness as I’m probably looking at her— but I don’t want her to be too curious about me. I know the shit that I do is far out of this girl’s league. I don’t really want to drag her into my world…

"I came tonight because I thought you wouldn't have anyone to dance with," I lie, then glance at the man who has been eyeing her all night. "But I didn't realize you had baggage," I nod at her tan beau. He’s standing with ginger’s dad and his fists are balled up at his sides. He touches his necklace and eyes her chest. Fucking weirdo. I look down at the girl and tighten my grip instinctively. I don’t even know the broad, but I just don’t like the way he’s staring. He acts as though he has some rights over this girl. Maybe he does…Oh well.

"Zayn is not 'baggage'. He is a close family friend," ginger tells me. She looks down at her feet, though, as if unsatisfied with her own answer. Why is it so hard for girls to realize that when a guy is talking to them, he is interested in something more than friendship. Well, I’m only talking to her cause I’m supposed to follow V’s orders, plus, this girl has some serious issues that I’d sort of like to hear about.

"Well your 'family friend' hasn't taken his eyes off you all night," I tell her. "I don't blame him, though, you look sexy as fuck.”

The girl stands even more stiffly than I thought possible and I find myself smirking. "Crude flattery will get you nowhere," she insists. I smile.

“I'm not flattering you. I'm telling the truth. If you were my girl, you'd be sore for weeks for wearing that dress."

"What's wrong with this dress?" she asks quietly. There’s a hint of desperation and fear in her voice, which I honestly don’t understand. She seems so uncomfortable in her body and yet I can’t seem to think of a single thing I’d change about her— physically, at least. I even like her cute B cup tits. They’re small, but probably a nice little handful...

"It's sinfully sexy," I tell her. She bites her tongue. The way it cups your ass and follows down the curve of your tits, revealing the slightest bit of cleavage, just enough to make my imagination run wild with dirty, dirty thoughts..."

She glares at me, eyes wide like wild deer.

"Watch your mouth," she hisses. I wait to see if she’ll hit me.

Her hand twitches for a moment, but she lowers it. I watch her face and body more closely, taking note of the way she tightens as I take the slightest step closer to her.

"You're a virgin," I say.

"Excuse me?"

"I knew it," I smirk. Bingo. She’s not just stiff, she’s a damn virgin.

Keep your eyes and hands to yourself, you perv," she points at my face.

I laugh. Harry laughs. "I'm no perv. If I'm not mistaken, you were checking me out like a fucking library book for the past two hours," I laugh louder.

"N-no I wasn't," she flusters. The pinkness of her cheeks brings out the wild red of her hair.

“Aw, your stuttering is cute, sweetheart," I smile and tilt her chin.