(rewritten)
I look down and sure enough, the fluorescent white dress that covers my body is now transparent. How are you suppose to reply to something like that? How are you suppose to react in a situation like this?
I clear my throat, cheeks burning crimson red, "Yes, it seems like it is." My voice is riddled in embarrassment. I just want to go home and cry into my pillow, never leave the confines of my bed ever again.
"I know.. I know I said we would take this slow but you're the biggest of all temptations Miss. Winters." I suck in a breath.
"what do you mean?"
"I mean, you better decide if you want cameras or not right now because I'm taking you back to mine and we're getting this done."
Oh. That's what he means.
"I-I don't know Harry, I'm not prepared for-"
"I'll be gentle, I swear. Come on, you can't leave me hanging like this," Harry states, motioning to his ever prominent erection.
"Do you promise? Because I don't wanna be put off sex for the rest of my life."
Harry snickers, a playful glint in his eyes.
"I'm almost positive you'll never find anyone who's half as good at this as I am." And I guess he's telling some sort of truth.. He does do this for a living after all.
"Don't be so sure of yourself, I could be lesbian for all you know and I might just hate every second of it!"
A deep growl emits from deep in his throat, echoing off the walls and making my insides churn, thighs clamping shut.
"We'll then you should know that I happen to like lesbians. They're physical, like everything harder, faster. And they're oh-so vocal," Harry moans, leaving me with parted lips and an aching core.
I push my chair back, the legs screeching across the concrete floor.
Harry sits back, looking up at me with bewilderment flashing in his eyes.
"Well, are you coming or not?" I don't quite know where this sudden bmp of confidence is coming from, but I can't say that I don't like it.
In the blink of an eye, Harry stands from his seat and pulls me out of the warehouse, dragging me to his waiting car and buckling me in as if I were a toddler who can't do anything for herself.
It takes us all of twenty seven minutes to get to Harry's apartment. It's newly renovated, all black and white modern interior. Nothing looks out of place and I'm genuinely quite surprised. It isn't much bigger than my place but it's more organized and definitely has a lot more money put into the interior.
Harry takes my hand gently in his, slowly pulling me down a long hallway that leads to what I'm guessing is his bedroom. We stand outside a sleek, black door and I began to wonder how many other girls had been in this exact room, in that exact bed.
My head is reeling with thoughts from how many girls Harry has slept with, to how this is going to feel, to what I'm fancying for dinner tomorrow night.
Harry turns the door handle almost too painfully slow, it gets to the point where I begin bouncing on my feet, trying to calm some of the nerves that are running like a wild fire through my body.
His room is just as impeccable as the rest of the apartment. A big, plush, black duvet covering the bed sat right in the middle of the room, white bedside tables on either side, and a huge mirror above the headboard.
My fingers gripped onto Harry's with more strength than before, my mind kinda blown. I didn't know what to think or how to react. His financial status pretty obvious with one look at my surroundings.
