Mr. Styles (H.S.) [COMPLETE]

Four

What just happened? Katherine was a little hazy on the details, but she was pretty sure Harry Styles, business tycoon billionaire, just admitted to being attracted to her. She never really had an issue with how she looked, but Christ – this man could have any woman in the world. He could have his way with the most gorgeous women on earth and he was looking at her?

She shook her head from the thought. She didn't need to entertain any maddening scenarios in her mind. He was her boss. It just... it couldn't happen.

After cleaning up the rest of the kitchen, Katherine shut herself up in her massive bedroom in the east wing of the apartment, ignoring the tingling in her body at the thought of Harry – er, Mr. Styles.

She quickly undressed, pulling off her outer coverings, only leaving on her pale pink panties before she slipped on the oversized t-shirt she wore to bed most nights. She pulled her hair up into a ponytail as she made her way to the private bathroom connected to her room.

As she stood in front of the mirror brushing her teeth, her eyes washed up and down her frame. What was it he was attracted to? She was so unbelievably average, it was sickening. Her dirty blonde hair was too stringy. Her cheekbones were too prominent. Her eyes were a mash-up of all the colors, making them a dull shade of hazel. And the rest of her – well, it was safe to say she could lose a pound or two before she'd ever look good standing next to a man like Harry Styles.

As she spit out the toothpaste and rinsed the brush, Katherine leaned her face toward the mirror, looking at herself close-up. Bleckk. She shook her head quickly, but stopped herself when she realized one of her tiny hoop earrings – earrings her mother gave to her before she died – was missing from her ear.

Oh, shit.

Her eyes immediately searched the countertops before she dropped to her knees on the floor searching for it. No, no, no. Her heart squeezed painfully in her chest at the thought of not being able to find it.

Katherine ran to her room, retracing her steps in hopes it just fell out when she changed for bed. She picked up the clothes she was wearing not even ten minutes earlier and shook them out. It was nowhere. Without even thinking, she dashed out her bedroom door, heading to the kitchen where she and Mr. Styles shared dinner together not even an hour before.

She flipped on the light and looked around on the immaculate countertops. Of course it wasn't there. She just cleaned the shit out of the whole kitchen before going into her room. She dropped down on her knees to look on the floor, scouring under the baseboard. And as if some miracle was shone down upon her, she found it on the floor by the kitchen sink.

"Oh my god," she sighed as she blew on the earring to dust it off and popped it back through the hole in her ear.

Close call. Katherine stood up, trying to regain her composure after her near heart attack.

"Miss Mason."

She jumped nearly a foot as a screech escaped her lips. She turned to find Mr. Styles sitting at the dining room table, still dressed in his white dress shirt and black slacks. He had a glass in his hand and a bottle of whiskey next to him on the table.

"M-Mr. Styles," Katherine stammered, holding her hand to her rapidly beating heart.

She watched as his eyes washed up and down her over-exposed body as his tongue darted out, wetting his lips. She looked down, immediately tugging at the bottom hem of the shirt that only now seemed much too inadequate to call pajamas.

"I-I thought you went to bed," she said with wide-eyes, her cheeks burning with blush.

"I needed a drink," he replied, moving his glass in his hands, causing the ice to clink against the side.

"Oh," she said, dropping her gaze, feeling incredibly embarrassed to be in his presence while she was so indisposed.

"Is this what you wear to bed, Miss Mason?" He asked as his eyes, less than subtly, looked up and down her body again.

"On most nights," she said quietly, feeling incredibly self-conscious as she stood under his watchful eye.

"Hmm," he grunted as he stood up from his seat, grabbing the bottle of whiskey in his free hand.

Her heart began to pound furiously in her chest as he moved toward her. Her body was stick-straight and her breathing stopped completely as he passed by her to make his way to the sink.

Katherine slowly turned to watch as he gulped down what was left in his glass and deposited it into the sink before turning back to her. His eyes connected with hers immediately. He was so mind-blowingly attractive, it was overwhelming. She stood wide-eyed, gazing at him like she'd only just laid eyes on him for the first time.

"You were in a panic," he pointed out, referring to her abrupt entrance into the kitchen.

"I-I lost my earring. Or I thought I did," she told him, her cheeks still blushing.

"Glad to see you found it," he commented, reaching out to gently touch her earlobe.

Her insides contracted from his touch and she felt the slow build of sexual heat deep within her. It would have been the perfect time for him to just take her right then and there. Her whole body was screaming for him from just that one touch.

"Yes," she said, the word coming out more as a squeak rather than a reply.

There was a moment between them where their eyes connected, like there was a force holding them in an intense gaze, neither of them able to look away. Her entire body tingled from his presence. She was certain he could see what he was doing to her.

And because of that, she slowly crossed one of her legs over the other one as she stood in front of him, to try to halt the sensations that were building inside of her. But his watchful eyes on her caught her tactless move in an instant, causing her inappropriate thoughts about him to multiple.

"I can't say your choice of bedroom attire was a bad choice," he told her, looking down at the hem as he stepped closer.

Oh, god. What did he see? Was her ass hanging out as she searched for her earring? How incredibly embarrassing. Her cheeks flushed a brighter shade of crimson as she thought back on what a lunatic she must have looked like as she rushed into the kitchen to search for her missing heirloom.

"You have beautiful legs, Miss Mason," he breathed, his voice lowering into a huskier form, sending a shot of pleasure through her insides. Her breathing hitched with his words, and he smirked because of it.

"Am I making you nervous, Miss Mason?" He asked as his face went back to the cool expression he usually led with, though his eyes were still intense. Was it that obvious?

"Y-yes," she admitted. She knew he would instantly know she was lying if she were to say no.

"In a bad way?" He asked, cocking his eyebrow.

"No," she said quietly, answering immediately.

"Good," he replied, his smoldering eyes staring into hers, causing all the little scenarios of the two of them in her head when she went to sleep at night to flood her mind in that moment, making it unbelievably hard to keep her cool.