Treasure [h.s]

| 05 - Bank Man |

I liked the energy they were bringing in, so I shot my DJ a text and told him to play a song I thought they would enjoy. I was right, like I always am, and the party around them went crazy at the music.

And then they kissed, which made Ben practically foam at the mouth. Okay, so it was more than a kiss, I thought they were going to start taking each other's clothes off. He made his way down the stairs before they even came off of each other for air. I asked him where he thought he was going in the middle of our meeting and when I realized they had left the dance floor, I knew he was going to do some stupid shit.

I finally found him at the bar, way too fucking close to her. I didn't see her friend anywhere around and the girl was absolutely shit-faced. She could barely stand even with his grip on her and I know that shit was painfully secure.

Her eyes were begging me to get him away from her, I was already planning to, but the look she gave me only made me want to beat his face in more. He's lucky he's practically untouchable because he's getting on my last fucking nerve with scaring women in my presence.

I don't ever get people hotel rooms, but my conscious wasn't letting me leave her alone. The more time that passes since I saw Peter has done something to me, and I just couldn't let the opportunity for a little good karma to come my way. I've been screaming for a chance and the universe sent me one in the form of a short, drunken girl.

It totally blew up in my face, but I digress.

Mags is not happy with me for helping the girl, and when I told her that I never even got her name, she got even more mad remembering that I didn't know hers the first month either. I never said I was a good person, but even that made me feel a little bit bad. Yikes.

It's a good thing she can't come in here while she's working or else she'd cut my dick off for having a prettier girl on my lap. It's nothing new, I said my dancers weren't here to fuck, but I just meant that for Ben.

One of them is straddling my lap and kissing my neck, her short red dress riding up to show the bottom of her ass. Her long fingernails are twisted up in my hair the way she knows I like it and her flowery perfume is invading my nose every time she moves around on my crotch.

I'm too busy rolling blunts for her to get anywhere past my neck, though. She likes to be on me and I don't stop her, but that also means I don't have to acknowledge her. Pretty much all of these women are perfectly fine doing all of the work as long as I let them.

I lick the rolling paper and seal the wrap before inspecting it. I hold the drug between my pointer finger and thumb, twisting it around to admire my work. My free hand gets shoved in the pocket of my jeans under Lola's leg, searching around for a lighter.

I snatch the little black rectangle out and put the blunt between my lips, sitting up a little to cup my hand around the tip so I can light it. My chin is resting on her shoulder and her arms are still around my neck.

"Don't move, baby," I speak between the weed. "Don't want to catch that pretty hair on fire, with the amount of shit you put in it," I mumble and flick the lighter on. She giggles and presses her lips deeper into my neck. I wasn't trying to be funny, I've seen how much hairspray she uses and if she was any closer she would probably explode.

"There you fucking are, we've been waiting for you for half an hour, Harry. Get the fuck up and let's go!" I hear my name being called over the thumping bass.

My shoulders slouch and I take my thumb off of the lighter. "If I wanted to be down there, I fucking would be, Zayn." I know I need to be there, but I was really trying to get high first so I can deal with this bullshit. I stand up with Lola in my hold and toss her onto the couch. She yelps and holds her boobs so they don't spill out of her top from the bounce back.