One direction intense dirty imagines

The Art of lust

Lauren walked down to the gallery, her heart racing. A little more than an hour before, the owner had called her and said she should get there immediately, that he had something important to talk to her about. A thousand thoughts flooded her brain as she tried to figure out what he wanted. He hadn't seemed angry and she prided herself on her capabilities, so she didn't think she'd screwed up.

She took a deep breath and hoped she looked okay. The hour she'd spent tossing her closet in search of the perfect outfit had resulted in a light blue silk shirt mated to a gray pencil skirt. Her hair was pinned back in what she hoped was a serious, yet sexy bun. She thought the effect was stylish and professional but it was hard to tell. She had been working in the gallery's accounting department for the last two years and it was quite possible she looked like an oversexed librarian.

Realizing it was too late to change anyway, she opened the door and walked inside, trying to look as confident and collected as possible. She was greeted immediately by the store's owner, Zayn Malik. He stood there tapping his watch impatiently.

"What took you so long?" he asked shortly as she walked inside.

"I came as quickly as I could."

He looked doubtful but shook his head as if to clear it and said, "You said you wanted to run the gallery someday. Well, that day is here. I just fired Tiffany and need someone to cover the shop today."

Lauren stood there in shock. "You fired Tiffany," she stated cautiously.

"Yes, just this morning. She came in reeking of alcohol, still half-drunk. I won't tolerate incompetence. If you can handle things today, I may let you manage the gallery but you have to show you can do the job. If I didn't have meetings all day, I'd do it myself, but I can't reschedule them. My loss is your gain, and if you work out, my gain as well. Fortunately for both of us, today should be slow. We have no client appointments so just tidy up a bit, answer the phone and hopefully you can keep the place from burning to the ground."

He abruptly handed her the keys and started walking to the door. "Like I said, if today goes well, I may make you an assistant manager, if not, get used to accounting."

Lauren watched him leave and even his surly attitude couldn't ruin her mood. For the first time, she was running an art gallery! Granted, it was a quiet, slow art gallery at the moment, but it didn't matter. It had been her dream since she was a little girl and now here she was.

She turned to check the displays and for the first time really looked at the place. Whatever party had been here the night before had really left its mark. Mr. Malik's order for her to tidy up had been an understatement. All throughout the gallery were small piles of trash. She knew that the gallery usually had their events catered and couldn't believe that anyone had left it this way. It looked almost like someone had started to clean up and then stopped halfway.

The phone rang and her excitement returned as she answered her very first call, "Malik Graphic Gallery. How may I help you?"

"Lauren?"

The voice sounded familiar but she hesitated. "Yes. This is Lauren, how may I help you?"

"Sorry about that, I meant to call the gallery not accounting."

Lauren's pulse raced as she finally recognized the low, sexy baritone on the other side of the phone. There wasn't much she enjoyed about her job in accounting but having Niall Horan call always made any day better. About a year ago he'd called to try to figure out why the check he'd written for a painting he'd bought hadn't been cashed. She'd done a little legwork, figured out the problem and taken care of it for him. At first, they had only spoken of accounting but over the following weeks, their conversations had moved away from business. Lately, she had considered making a few billing errors just to get him to call more often. Fortunately, he had been buying more and more lately.