Possessive - A Harry Styles Fan Fiction

Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: This story DOES contain the idea of Harry being a womanizer, which I understand is frowned upon by many fans. This does NOT mean I see Harry this way, I think he is quite loveable and all around an amazing person, yet, the fact of him being a womanizer in this story will help to advance the plot. So if you are strongly against this, please do not read. I just wanted to make this clear. I love you all though. Thanks, Ashley.

...

"What'll ya have?" The unfamiliar bartender asked. I looked her up and down, biting my lip as I did so, taking in every part of her body. She was extremely attractive, much like most of the girls I usually end up bringing home a few times a week. It was my usual routine, I worked as an English professor at the City University of New York, grading papers and giving lectures, sometimes even sleeping with students if they were up for it, then after work, I'll head over to the bar I've come quite acquainted with, somedays taking a girl home with me, other times just wanting the taste of alcohol to burn its way down my throat.

"You." I responded, licking my lips while continuing to eye her up and down, as she began to do herself as she bit her lip. "What'd ya say we get out of here?" I questioned, only loud enough for her to hear.

"I get off in an hour." She smiled, ruffling her blond curls to the side, making my jeans tighter around my legs by the minute. She slipped me her number and we agreed to meet outside in an hour. I learned her name as Emily, not like it mattered, she was merely another face, one I'd soon forget.

The idea of sex intrigued me, the various movements the body goes through to ignite the sense of fire inside of two people, connecting them in a way that couldn't be expressed simply in words.

Most girls find me attractive, whether that be one of my students that is usually only in it for a better grade, or someone that I pick up from the bar I go to at least 3 to 4 times a week.

Another thing that I found interesting was alcohol. The sensation of it rolling onto ones tongue, burning its way down the throat and into the body, its intoxication taking you over, sometimes even controlling what you say and do, possibly even making you question, "what happened last night" when you awake the next morning. It's interesting what power a liquid can possess over you.

I stood outside with my back against the brick wall of the bar, taking short sips of the beer Emily had given me. She soon walked out of the bar, her heels clicking against the pavement.

As her back was turned, I quickly grabbed her by the waist and slammed her against the brick wall, connecting our lips roughly. I ran my hands up her waist, feeling the fabric of her black dress until I reached her boobs, squeezing them rather hard, resulting in a moan escaping from her lips.

I grabbed her hand and led her to my rather large black SUV and took off to the nearest suite hotel. I never take girls I sleep with to my house, that only gives them a chance to return and think they're something special.

Once we got up to the hotel room, I threw her carelessly onto the bed, the comforter breaking her fall. She continued to take off her heels and dress, leaving her only in her matching lace underwear and bra. I had to admit her curves were magnificent. We continued on throughout the night with our naughty, yet human ways.

...

I awoke in the morning on my own, leaving Emily alone, sleeping, wrapped up in the blankets of the hotel bed. I drove to my quite large house, although being a college professor might not pay much, writing a best selling book that made it into the New York Times might.

I hopped in the shower and washed the previous night away. I then proceeded to change into a dress suit, an outfit I don't usually go with, but a clean cut and professional outfit is something I use to get a day as dreadful as Monday started. It was also the first day of a new semester, which meant a classroom full of new students, the majority of them being freshmen, and most of them ignorant enough to not know the difference between the different uses of 'your'.