No Control (Book 1)

11. Best Song Ever

I pulled Harry by the hand, and when we reached the dancefloor I began busting some silly moves, not caring if I looked stupid. Ed Sheeran's "Sing" was playing, so I put my hands on Harry's waist and swung my legs from side to side. He laughed and joined in with my funny dance, and began waving his arms above his head. "Woa-oa-oa-oa-oa-oah" he sang. I laughed at the face he was pulling, turned round so my back was to him, and wiggled my hips at him. He grabbed me round the waist and pulled me back against him, but I giggled and broke free again and carried on. As the song came to a close I was aware of the opening bars of a new song and my mouth opened in excitement as I realised it was the beginning of Best Song Ever.

Harry groaned and looked over at the DJ. James Corden was standing over by the DJ's booth laughing with the DJ, who grinned at us and gave us both thumbs up. 

"This is so embarrassing," Harry whined as the song burst forth and I began to sing along, not caring if the entire club knew I was a One Direction fan. I sneaked a glance around the room and saw several other people singing along on the dancefloor, including Fearne Cotton. I took a moment to appreciate exactly what was happening to me - I was dancing with Harry Styles in some exclusive club with a load of celebrities, to a One Direction song. I sang along to every single word, not caring who saw. I caught sight of Harry's face a couple of times; he was watching me with amusement.

By the time the song finished I was out of breath and flushed, and Harry pulled me against him and wrapped his arms around my waist. "Do you feel better for that?" he asked, his eyes twinkling.

"A bit," I said. "But I'd feel a lot better if you kissed me again."

He didn't need to be asked twice. He bent his head and kissed me, and I slid my arms up around his neck and slipped my tongue in his mouth. He didn't seem bothered if anyone saw us, even though we were still on the dancefloor, and pulled me closer to him so our hips were pressed together. We stayed like that for a couple of minutes until he pulled away and took a deep breath. "You're making me way too hot," he said, looking hard to my eyes.

I bit my bottom lip and returned his gaze. "You started it," I said. "You made a move on me."

"I didn't hear you complaining," he replied, pulling my hips against his again.

I ran my tongue over my lips, lifted my hand and gently ran my index finger over his bottom lip, not taking my eyes from his.

"You need to stop doing that," he murmured, his voice low and throaty.

"Why?" I asked, stroking his lip softly.

"You're really, really turning me on," he whispered, barely moving his lips. His eyes burned into me, and I could feel the desire washing over me. I stared back into his eyes, imagining all sorts of unmentionable things. My resolve was slowly weakening, and I knew he could tell. "Shall we sit down?" he suggested.

I nodded and he lead me by the hand back to our booth and slid in next to me. He kissed me softly, and then poured the remainder of the bottle of champagne into our glasses. I took a deep breath and sipped my drink, trying to get my heart rate to slow.

"Are you having a good time?" he asked me.

"It's surreal," I said truthfully. "But yes, I am having a good time. I honestly could never have imagined I'd be doing this tonight."

He smiled. "Honestly, neither would I. I fully intended to drop in to that party and say hi to Nick, then head straight home and crash."

"Well I'm glad you stayed," I said.

"Me too," he said, and then started to say something but stopped himself. I raised my eyebrows at him, and he hesitated, then said, "I decided to stay after I saw you. You walked past me in the lounge with your friend and... well, I thought you were hot and I wanted to say hi."

I stared at him open-mouthed, not believing what I was hearing. He chuckled at the expression on my face. "Is it really that hard to believe?" he asked.

I wasn't going to stroke his ego by reminding him he could have any girl on the planet, so I decided to accept the compliment, even if it was a thinly veiled attempt to get me into bed.

"I'm flattered," I said, honestly.

"You're a beautiful girl," he said simply.

"Alright, don't push it," I teased. "All the flattery in the world won't get you what you want."

"Really? And what do I want?" he asked, his eyes flirty but serious.

"Too much for someone I just met," I told him, smiling. "I'll be right back."

I walked across the club to the bathroom and locked myself in a cubicle. I took a few deep breaths. I still couldn't believe what was happening. A couple of hours ago Harry Styles was a devastatingly sexy celebrity who I lusted after from afar. Right now he was a devastatingly sexy horny guy who seemed to enjoy kissing me and possibly wanted to take me home. I couldn't get my head around it. I was still worried this might all be a dream.

I sighed and unlocked the cubicle door and went to check my reflection on the mirror. My lip gloss had long since rubbed off and my skin was looking a little tired. I pulled out some foundation and touched up my face, but decided to leave the lip gloss as I was fairly confident it would just be smudged off again in a few minutes. I fluffed up my hair with my fingers and pouted at myself in the mirror, then smiled at my silly expression. I checked my phone - I had hardly any battery. Great. Shoving it into my bag, I left the bathroom, tucked my bag under my arm and walked around the dancefloor to our booth. Harry was playing on his phone and looked up as I walked over to him. His eyes met mine and I felt that familiar jolt in my stomach as his gaze seemed to burn a hole right through me. I bit my lip, thinking back to his confession earlier that I was turning him on. I picked up my glass and finished the last of the champagne as he slipped his phone into his pocket, smirking.

"I'm going to get a glass of water," I said. "Do you want some more champagne? My round."

"You're not buying me a drink," Harry said, standing up.

"What do you mean?" I asked, confused.

"It's my treat. I brought you here, so it's on me."

"I was hardly under duress," I said. "Anyway I'm only having water. I can't drink any more or I really will be on the floor."

"My bedroom floor?" Harry smirked again, pulling me close to him.

I gave him a flirtatious smile and said, "Dream on. I need my bed. My OWN bed."

"Well maybe I'm not ready to let you go yet," he murmured, looking at my mouth.

I reached up and ran my finger over his lips again and he lifted his gaze to meet mine. I maintained eye contact and slowly ran my tongue over my lips. I knew I was turning him on again, and I didn't want to lead him on, but I couldn't stop.

"Now who knows exactly what they're doing," Harry said gruffly, still not taking his eyes off mine.

"I don't know what you mean," I whispered.

"Oh I think you do," he breathed.