The day was not what she’d been expecting.

It had taken her weeks to decide whether or not she’d subject herself to the tennis game with Tyler and all of his friends, and she’d assumed it would be a quiet, rather boring affair. Tyler’s friends, the few she’d met, had a tendency to be over the top, rowdy, and a tennis game (albeit a fairly large one, such as this) held the potential for a more subdued event. She and Tyler hadn’t hung out since he’d broken up with Brooke over a month ago, and it was ultimately this fact that had made the decision for her.

She and Tyler were cousins and everytime he broke up with one of his girlfriends, they went through this. It’d be a few months of radio silence, followed by a crazy night out with a group of his friends, always with the intention of hooking her up with one of his friends, one of the “good guys”. He would argue that she deserved someone to take care of her, to treat her right, and he’d been way off-base with every single friend.

Today, however, was not like any of the other days he’d dragged her along. Usually, they ended up at a rugby match or a club, and the guys drank themselves into a stupor and screamed themselves hoarse. She always ended up getting puke on her shoes and would vow to herself the next morning that she was never going to let Tyler talk her into another night out again. She always broke those particular promises to herself.

This day, they sat like civilized men in a mostly quiet arena and watched two men grunt at each other across a net. She couldn’t say she was a fan of the sport, but the food was good and, for once, the company as well. She’d met these guys before, on one of the better outings Tyler had dragged her along to at the beach, and they were perfect gentlemen today, charming and attentive. They brought her all manner of snacks and beer, one of them always staying behind to sit with her so she wouldn’t be alone. She found herself pleasantly surprised at how much she’d enjoyed herself.

She spent the majority of the day sitting with Niall, the famous lad of the bunch. His bodyguard, sat on his other side, had forbid him from leaving for food or drink, bathrooms only, so he opted to stay behind when the others set out. He’d been charming and idiotic in a way that was endearing and Tyler had left her alone for most of the day, which was a new thing for him, though it didn’t stop him from sitting behind them with a smug look on his face. She could do without the whispers, inside jokes, and knowing smiles running between them, though. Despite all of this, she found herself pleasantly surprised again at what a normal group of friends they were, and was beginning to realize what Tyler already seemed to know - she was developing a thing for Niall Horan.

She wasn’t surprised when, after the match was over, he suggested heading out to a bar for food and more alcohol. The hotel’s bar had guaranteed privacy (or at least the best privacy they’d find) and good enough food. No one was ready to head home, and she had a sneaking suspicion that Tyler wouldn’t let her go if she tried, so she consented, and they headed out.
The back room of the bar was small, and they crowded into the booths. She got stuck in the middle, sandwiched between Niall and Matt, pressed between them in a way that had her sitting sideways, only able to face one of them at a time. She could feel Niall’s arm brushing her back, his leg pressed up against hers.

She’d barely settled in when a shot glass was placed in front of her, full to the brim with an amber-colored liquid that she knew was rum. She’d had a few beers at the match, but it had been hours since then, and really, what would the fuss be with doing a few shots? Matt picked his up, indicated to hers, and they downed their shots to a chorus of cheers from the group. The liquor burned on its’ way down her throat, warming her body and making her feel invincible. Matt smiled at her, slamming his glass down on the table and demanding someone bring the “pretty lady” a beer. She felt Niall shift behind her, his arm pressed to her back before disappearing entirely, and she turned her head, peeking at him through the curtain of her hair. Their eyes locked and she almost forgot how to breathe. He looked steamed.

She turned her head back to Matt, graciously accepting the drink in his hand while simultaneously shifting, pressing her back up against Niall’s bicep. He pressed back ever so slightly, just enough that she could feel it, and the game was on.

---

One hour, 2 beers, and another shot later, she was feeling loose and free and happy. She’d spent the time talking to Matt and sending flirtatious glances to Niall. The guys were getting rowdier, louder, and while this would have annoyed her another time, she found her voice mixed in with theirs, cheering along when Tyler led some of the others in Irish Car Bombs.

She turned to say something to Matt , only to find him gesturing wildly with his hands. In one of them was his newly filled beer, and she watched as, in slow motion, the liquid sloshed over the edge, splattering the table and himself with sticky, frothy mess. She recoiled, pulling back and into Niall. Forgetting he was there, she planted a hand behind her to catch herself. Her hand met his thigh, slipping along it as it pushed between his legs to land firmly on the booth. She’d slid completely into him with a squeal, trying to avoid the spilled beer.

He turned towards her, sputtering and red in the face (though, whether that was from alcohol or her hand placement, she wasn’t sure). He leaned closer to her in an attempt to help her regain proper seating, his head close to hers.

“Alright there, princess?” he asked quietly, voice rumbling in her ear. She took in a deep breath before meeting his eyes. Up this close, she couldn’t help but marvel at the spectacular blue and it took her a few moments to piece together an answer as the chaos continued on her other side. The table was mopped up, but Matt’s pants had seen better days.

“Never better,” she hummed, flashing him a dazzling smile. “Thanks.” She withdrew her hand from between his legs slowly, letting her fingers drag across his upper thigh before turning back to give Matt a hard time about spilling his beer. She could hear him breathe deeply, had seen the way his eyes had darkened. She knew.

---

Matt ended up having to leave shortly after the beer incident, so her attention had been grabbed by Colin, sitting a few seats down from Niall. The guys were telling stories, each one more ridiculous than the last. She’d be stupid if she didn’t realize that they were trying to impress her, trying to outdo each other, but she sat there and listened attentively, genuinely enjoying their laughter.

What they didn’t know, couldn’t see, was her hand dancing across Niall’s thigh, brushing at the skin of his knee in his ripped jeans, gripping and squeezing and generally driving him beyond crazy. She sipped her beer and smiled when they looked at her, laughed when it was appropriate, but she’d stopped listening after a while.

She cued back in when Colin had flashed his phone, a picture pulled up on it to corroborate whatever crazy tale he was telling. She couldn’t see it from where she was, so she motioned for him to send it down. He reached it out, grinning at her interest in what he thought was him.

She put her hand on the back of the booth behind Niall’s hand, reaching the other out across the table to grab the phone. The motion and odd position had her breast pressed against his bicep, but she pulled back quickly when her hand grasped the phone. She felt herself giggle at the ridiculous selfie, saying something to Colin that she can’t even remember. Hours later, she wouldn’t remember the story or the picture, but she would remember the way Niall was looking at her.

She leaned back to hand over the phone, repositioning herself so that she had to lean right across Niall’s lap. She heard him let out a low sound, his gaze pointed straight down her shirt, and she couldn’t fight the smile that lit up her face. Maybe she didn’t suck at this whole teasing thing.

She was startled from her musings when she heard her name shouted throughout the bar. Three of the guys were carrying shot glasses, as many as they could, full of a clear liquid. Two were set down in front of her, and she raised an eyebrow at Alex.

“What is that?” she asked, though she needn’t have asked. She could smell it before they all chanted, “TEQUILA!” Her face took the wind out of their sails.

“No tequila,” she replied, pushing the shots back towards them on the other side of the table.

Alex gave her what he thought was a sexy, imploring look before saying, “Come on, baby, you won’t know if you like it until you try it.” She shuddered at that.

Her gaze slid over to Niall before looking back at Alex. “I know what I like and tequila isn’t it.”

The guys let out a chorus of “Ohs!” as Alex’s face turned red. He downed her shots quickly and she felt smug at shooting him down. She couldn’t stop herself from glancing back to Niall, only to find him watching her, a dark look on his face. His fist was clenched at her hip, but the look on his face wasn’t one of anger. Rather, he looked like he was in some sort of pain as he shifted, his face tilting up as he grabbed his jeans at the thigh, pulling them down from where they had bunched at his hips.

He turned to her, his eyes settling on hers, and she could see the barely-controlled desire unmasked in his eyes. They sat for a moment, staring at each other, and she wondered what the hell she’d gotten herself into.

The next moment, he’d dipped his head, gaze dropping as he quietly asked to be let out of the booth. It was a production to get everyone out of the booth on her side, and there wasn’t much room left for everyone to stand around and wait. She slid slowly, but her foot still got caught and she stumbled on her way out of the booth. She felt a hand on her arm, another firmly at her waist, and it took her a moment to realize both hands were his. She smiled sheepishly at him, standing next to the booth as he slid out behind her.

“Are ya ok, princess?” he asked, hands at her elbows to help her regain her balance. She nodded at him in response. “You’re not drunk, are you?” He sounded concerned, bending down slightly to look her straight in the eyes.

“I’m just a little buzzed, that’s all,” she answered with a knowing grin, her fingers grazing his bare forearm as she pulled her hand away. He watched her for a few beats of her heart before nodding to himself. He took a moment to arrange his pants and she blushed at the reason. Oops. He gave her a look that told her to wait, then headed across the small room to where Tyler was chatting up some girl destined to be his next girlfriend.

He threw down a few bills on the bar in front of Tyler and grinned. “I’m turning in, but I need a favor.” They whispered briefly, their exchange full of knowing grins and sideways glances, and she watched without watching. She barely caught Tyler’s nod of assent before Niall came striding back towards her, leaning in close and whispering in her ear.

“Here’s what’s going to happen, love. I’m heading upstairs, alone. You’ll stay down here, smile pretty for everyone, maybe flirt with some of the lads, show off. In twenty minutes, Tyler will bring you upstairs,” he breathed out, sounding so sure of herself. His raspy voice was doing crazy things to her insides. She turned to look at him, one eyebrow raising.

“And then?” she asked, sounding bored with the whole exchange. She saw the flash of hunger in his eyes at her audacity - How dare she sound bored with him when she’d been hinting at this all night? - and she had to fight against the knowing grin. He checked himself quickly and a dangerous look stole over his features, gaze darkening further.

“Then you’ll show me what ya want. Ya can’t hide it from me, your eyes have been asking all night, but you won’t ask for it. Fine. Then you’re going to show me,” he declared, his voice quiet and gravelly. He winked, smirked, and was gone.

---

Tyler pushed her into the stairwell exactly 19 minutes later, after smuggling her out of the bar’s back room. The other guys knew what was going on, had bet on it and manipulated the conversations for them, but they were nice enough to continue pretending that they were all vying for her attention until she was gone.

Tyler had given her directions to the seventh floor, end of the corridor, a right, and a quiet conversation with Niall’s bodyguard at the door to his suite. She wasn’t sure what to expect, but it kind of looked like an apartment: a kitchen, dining area, living room, and a door heading off to the bedroom and bathroom. Niall wasn’t in view, so she toed off her sneakers and padded over to the couch where she found an open beer bottle lying on the coffee table beside his forgotten jumper and phone. She was just lowering herself to the couch cushion when he emerged from the bedroom in bare feet, the same ripped skinny jeans as before, and a plain white t-shirt.

He stopped just past the doorway and they took the time to really look at each other, without the distractions of her cousin and the giant group of men they’d just left. He was flushed, eyes still that incredibly dark blue, and the slow smile he gave her set her heart racing. He paced over to her, a little swagger in his step and a cocky grin on his face. Her pulse raced faster the closer he got, and she was beginning to feel nervous.

She was not this girl, the one who meets a hot guy and drops her panties for him at the blink of an eye. Sure, they’d met before. Sure, they’d had great conversations, they got along well, but she was worried all of a sudden at how this would look to him. She knows he’s famous, knows why, she can’t imagine he didn’t have girls dropping hints every day. She didn’t want to be one of them.

He stopped in front of her, holding his hands out to help her to her feet. She took them, letting him pull her to her feet so that they were face to face. She took a deep breath, blowing it out slowly in an effort to hide her sudden nervousness. Despite her best efforts, however, he noticed, brows furrowing and hands squeezing hers lightly.

“You’re nervous,” he stated, eyes searching her face for the answer he doesn’t think she’ll give. He’s right, she barely blinks in response, only stands there looking back at him, all of her earlier resolve gone. The gentle pleading, though, that was still there, the desire burning behind her eyes, begging him. “There’s nothing to be nervous about, love. If this feels wrong, you can leave at any time.”

Her eyes met his, watching as his demeanor changed from adorable and charming to hot and sexy in the blink of an eye. His voice dropped almost an entire octave when he leaned towards her, murmuring, “Now, princess, I’m going to walk through that door. If you want to leave, you’re welcome. I won’t be upset. But if you don’t, then you know where to find me.”

He let go of her hands, taking a few steps backward so that he could maintain eye contact. He didn’t try to hide himself, let her see how much he really wanted her, and she reeled from the view. His t-shirt pulled tight across his chest, muscles outlined beneath, and he was fiddling with his own fingers, causing the muscles in his arms to flex slightly. She already knew she wouldn’t leave, but to go into that room and take control? She’d never done that before.

She followed him into the bedroom, shoulders slumped slightly and still unsure of herself. When he saw, he raised an eyebrow. Her mouth opened and closed twice before she was able to vocalize her thoughts.

“I don’t know how to do this,” she admitted, voice quiet. He stopped walking but didn’t turn around, his back remaining to her. He waited for her to continue, turning after a few moments to watch her silently, but when she didn’t, he just shook his head.

“How to have sex?” he asked bluntly. She was sure this isn’t what he had been expecting after her behavior downstairs, but with the buzz beginning to wear off, she’s starting to feel self-conscious about it. “You had your hands all over me earlier, you flirted with Matt and Colin.”

“I wasn’t flirting,” she argued, feeling a bit heated at his accusatory tone.

“That little comment about you knowing what you like? Don’t pretend like that wasn’t for my benefit,” he growled, and it sounded fake even to her own ears, but she knew he was trying to goad her, and damn it all, it was working. He saw her resolve returning, spurring him to growl out, “Show me” in a raspy voice that rekindled all of the hunger she’d forgotten.

She felt the steel return to her backbone, reminding her that she could do this, that she wanted this. Something like pride flashed in his eyes, and it made her want to keep that look on his face. She approached him slowly, looking up at him through her lashes as she demanded, “Kiss me.”

The kiss was average and she was disappointed. He didn’t touch her, didn’t try to do anything more than let his lips slide across hers. When he pulled back, her brows knit together in confusion and she saw him fighting a chuckle. It infuriated her, outraged her, and she puffed up in indignation. His eyes widened slightly at her reaction, and she felt powerful that her anger could produce that reaction from him in return.

“I know you can do better than that, Horan, kiss me like you mean it.”

He swooped towards her then, arms snaking around her waist to press her body tightly to his. His lips claimed her own with a fierceness she’d not experienced before. Her back bent with the force of his body against hers, her hands on his shoulders to balance them. His tongue slipped out of his mouth and brushed against her lips for only a moment before her mouth was open and accepting. His tongue slid against hers and she marveled at how the beer he’d been drinking blended so well into a taste she’d always remember as purely Niall. His fingers dug into her back, trying to pull her closer as his tongue engaged her in a battle of wills. This fierce pull, the absolutely need to sink into him and forget her own name, this is what she’d been craving all these months.

She pushed hard on his shoulders when she couldn’t breathe anymore, making him stumble backwards. He gave her a hard look, his chest rising and falling harshly with his heavy breathing. She stepped up to him and grabbed his t-shirt, pulling it off in an awkward tangle of limbs. She threw it behind her head and allowed herself a moment to just stare at his bare torso and try in vain to regulate her breathing. It didn’t work. She trailed a finger through the hair on his upper chest, letting the nail scratch along his smooth skin. She watched intently as her finger traveled lower over the planes of his stomach to roll over the taut muscles of his abs, barely stifling the rogue giggle that bubbles in her throat when his stomach caves beneath her finger as he sucks in a breath.

One hand splayed open to rest on his abdomen, palm flat and fingers spread, while the other grabbed the top of his waistband and used it to pull him into her, her mouth reclaiming his hungrily. His hands grabbed her hips, fingers brushing against the skin peeking out above her jeans. His hands were warm, fingertips calloused from hours of plucking guitar strings, and the texture felt sinful against her, made her imagine what those fingers would feel like on other places. Her body felt as if it was burning up, the fire concentrated on every single spot where his fingers touched her skin.

She recalls feeling feverish - overheated, short of breath, light headed, and charged up. She’s lost herself in sensations, the way he smelled and felt pressed against her, like she was drunk or drugged. Her thoughts were sluggish and the next few minutes slipped by quickly in impassioned flashes.

The kiss breaks, they’re breathing heavily. He tries to kiss her again, but she’s ducking backwards away from him. Palms on his bare chest, pushing. He furrows his brow, pulls back to pout at her. Then, she’s sucking and biting at his bottom lip, his fingers digging into her hips and a choked groan in the back of his throat. His hands move to her back, slipping under her shirt, sending electricity down her spine in the form of a shudder. His head tilts back, her tongue dances along the column of his throat, and the only sound she can hear is his ragged breathing mixing with the moans.

She’ll never remember how he ended up sitting on the bed in only his underwear, looking up at her through his lashes, eyes hooded and dark. He gave her a proud look and a cocky smile and the ball in her abdomen pulsed. She watched as her hand reaches out, fingers pushing through his hair. His eyes slid closed, cocky grins slips when his mouth falls open slightly. Her hand closed, her fingernails scraped lightly on his scalp as she grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked his head back. Bending slightly, she kissed him hungrily, swallowing his moan when her hand tightened in his hair. She pulled back quickly, though, standing back up and flashing him her best imitation of his cocky grin.

“Take off my clothes,” she demanded quietly, without the wavering voice, despite the shaking in her fingers. He blinked once, twice, then looked up at her with a dazed look on his face.

“What?” he asked unintelligently.

“I said undress me, Niall. I really need to teach you how to listen properly.”

His hands were on her almost immediately, once he understood what she had actually asked him to do. His fingertips danced across her skin as he lifted her shirt over her head, leaving kisses on her stomach as he threw her shirt somewhere in the same direction as his. He didn’t stop at that, popping the button on her jeans and pulling them down as well. Before he could reach for her bra, though, she’s climbing onto the bed, straddling him and letting her body slide along his in all the ways she’s wanted since he sat down next to her ten hours ago.

A hand on the back of his neck pulled him to her, lips and tongues caressing as she rolled her hips into his. She could feel his erection rub the inside of her thigh and she readjusted, grinding down and letting their shared moans mingle in the inch of space separating their mouths. Her head fell back and he attached his mouth to the juncture of her shoulder and neck. His fingers unhooked her bra as he sucked and licked his way across her neck. Once her bra was off, his mouth dropped to explore the newly exposed skin. A hand cupped one breast as his mouth descended to the other, tongue flicking over her nipple before biting it lightly.

She can’t think of anything but lying down atop him, feeling the heat from his body penetrate hers as skin touches skin. Well, that and the fact that he was taking his sweet time getting around to what she really wanted - more. Unashamedly (finally), she let her hand slip beneath his waistband to brush along his tip, stifling all the sounds he makes with her mouth. He twitches in her hand in time with the squeezing of his fingers and she would swear she could feel the blood pumping through his veins. She wrapped her hand around him with a firm grip, enjoying the texture of his skin, the way it felt like warm satin. She pumped her fist lightly, using his reactions to determine what he liked.

She didn’t get far, however, not nearly as far as she wanted. His hands on her thighs lifted her off his lap so that he could remove her satin and lace underwear, grumbling when they caught around her knees. She was forced to remove her hands from his boxers to stabilize herself on his shoulder as he wrestled with the small scrap of fabric and her own grumbling joined his in a chorus of unhappy sounds. Her grumbles changed to breathless whispers when his mouth closed around the nipple she’d pressed to his face unknowingly.

He set her down on her knees once she was bare and with his mouth still firmly affixed to her breast, he lifted his own hips off the bed to shimmy out of his boxers. She suspected at that point that he’d had enough with letting her drive, but he surprises her by plopping back on the bed, pulling her down atop him and letting her nipple pop out of his mouth. His hands rested lightly against her thighs, thumb gently caressing her inner thigh and driving her wild.

That cocky grin was back on his face then as he asked, “What now, princess?”

She rolled her hips, gasping at the feel of him sliding against her folds. She wasn’t sure she could take more sensation, but it was all she wanted and the only thing she needed. She barely gasped out a murmur of “Touch me, please.”

Her mind went foggy after that and it felt like his fingers were everywhere all at once. His hands ran along her body and goosebumps followed, a visual trail of his progress. When she felt that she couldn’t take it anymore, that she was going to have a violently inappropriate reaction to his teasing touches, he planted a hand firmly on her ass, lifting her slightly off of him. His other hand swooped in between them to cup her and she thought she could feel that cocky grin on his lips, pressed to her throat.

He ran a finger through her folds, back to front, brushing her clit on his way through. The chuckle he let out when her hips bucked is dark and sinful and it was building within her, more and more as his fingers toyed. His chuckle turned to a groan when his finger pushed deep, sliding easily into her thanks to her already intense arousal. She could feel her walls clench around the finger but it wasn’t nearly enough.

“M….more,” she stuttered breathily, fingers digging into his shoulder and back.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered, voice husky, and he inserted another finger roughly. She let out a loud, gasping whine, head thrown back, chest heaving and another time, she’d be self-conscious about the position she’s in, but he’s touching her and she can’t find it in her to care. She can’t control her body’s responses to him and her hips thrusted in time to his pumping fingers.

Her orgasm built slowly within her and her breathing was getting dangerously short. She could feel him twitching beneath her, legs bunching to keep her balanced as she writhed atop him, erection pressed into her inner thigh, arm around her back to keep her close, tongue on whatever skin he could reach.

And she snapped.

Bracing her hands on his shoulders, she pushed hard. His hand pulled out of her and he fell backwards, bouncing slightly on the bed with wide, wide eyes. It was her turn to adopt the cocky grin when she reached down, grasping him firmly as she aligned her hips with his. Her name fell from his lips in a moan as she sank down onto him. Her eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of being filled, finally, in a way that only he would be able to.

His hands gripped her hips in desperation as he helped her set a pace. Electricity coursed through her veins and the ball in her abdomen that was her growing orgasm tightened with each thrust. She leaned down, breasts pressing to his chest, and she kissed him with fervor, needing to feel. Their tongues battled for dominance and she gave him a thrust-roll-grind that had him choking on her name. Over and over, thrust-roll-grind, thrust-roll-grind, until he actually growled at her.

Suddenly, she was on her back, unsure of how she got there, and he was pounding into her. His face was red, eyes screwed shut in concentration, hair a complete mess, and despite their current situation, she felt an intense affection for him in that moment. In the next, though, the coarse hair between his legs ground into her clit, tightening the ball in her core impossibly tight, and her eyes screwed shut. Her hands fisted in his hair and she gasped his name into his ear and wrapped her legs around his waist and felt undone.

His pace picked up, he was getting close, and as much as she wanted this to last forever, she knew she was close. He continued to grind into her, and with her every nerve inflamed, her body on fire, her back arched off the bed in an effort to feel him pressed perfectly to her. The last thought she had before she broke completely apart was that his thrusts were getting sloppy, his pace messy, that he was close to coming undone inside her.

Her orgasm washed over her, then, and it felt lightning lighting her entire body up. Her walls clenched and her muscles tensed and she screamed his name into the dark room. His moans increased and he gave one, two, three hard thrusts before his entire body seized up. She felt him pulse, he gave a shallow thrust, and then his muscles all released and he sagged.

He fell down, barely catching himself on his forearms before rolling to the side. He was half draped atop her, incapable of moving as he caught his breath. She let out a soft giggle at the picture they must have made, sprawled on that bed, buck naked and sweaty, huffing and puffing like they’d just run a marathon. He grinned at her in response and threw an arm over her stomach. She felt him give her a little squeeze, felt like she was flying, and then her eyes slid closed and she fell asleep.

She wouldn’t remember the way he brushed her hair out of her face or watched her for several beats of his heart before lying his head back down next to hers and drifting off to sleep himself.

---

She stood up from the bed, not daring to look back at him sprawled out across the bed, the sheet barely covering him. He was deep in sleep after their third round, and she couldn’t help but smile as the memories swept through her mind. Round two had been a lesson in proper usage of tongue, something in which Niall had needed very little instruction. Round three had been the marathon, 90 minutes of her favorite positions, resulting in what was likely the most intense (and loudest) orgasm she’d ever had in her life. She was still tired, she couldn’t deny that fact, but she couldn’t sleep. On her feet, she realized there were only two ways to go from here - wake him up for round four or leave.

She vaguely remembered losing her underwear in the hallway and tried to pad quietly in that direction, not wanting to wake him. She located them dangling from the corner of a table and tried not to blush from embarrassment as she slipped them on. His t-shirt was lying a few feet away, near the bed, and she grabbed it, quickly pulling it over her head as she entered the bathroom. She went about her business as quietly as she could, forgoing her usual morning gargle just so that she wouldn’t wake him up. But when she stood up from rinsing the toothpaste from her mouth, their gazes locked through the mirror. He was standing in the open doorway of the bathroom, buck naked and with a heated look on his face.

Truth be told, this is what she’d wanted to avoid. They’d had amazing sex, yes, but in the middle of the night, with the world asleep, she couldn’t help her apprehension from growing. She didn’t regret what they’d done, couldn’t if she tried, but she wasn’t looking forward to what happened next, especially with him awake. They’d make awkward small talk now, while she tried to find all of her clothing and redress herself. There’d be an extremely uncomfortable goodbye, some empty promises to call each other, and then she’d be out in the hallway alone, mentally preparing herself for the trip home, alone in the dark. Tyler would call her, and she’d have to relive the entire ordeal over again, trying to brush off his embarrassing questions while wondering what would have happened if she’d stayed. She tried not to cringe at the impending doom the next hour would hold for her.

“You aren’t leaving, are you?” He grumbled, his accent thick from sleep. She didn’t answer, only dropped her gaze to the sink and fiddling with the towel in her hands, but it only confirmed his suspicions.

Without a word, he strode three steps to her and scooped her up in his arms. She could feel his muscles bunching and his morning erection tapping against her thigh. He carried her back into the bedroom, half placing and half throwing her back onto the bed.

“Niall! What are you doing?” she asked, exasperated. His grin excited her, though, and the look in his eyes damn near made her wet all over again.

“You spent all night showing me what you like. I want my turn.”

Notes

a/n: I do not own “Show Me” by Bruno Mars. All references to the song are paraphrasing only and are not intended as copyright infringement.