Book 1 || Finding Prince Charming || Harry Styles

Chapter 33

Her view.

I stand there watching him and don't stop staring at the door, even after he walked through it. I feel my heart rate increasing rapidly as I stand there waiting for Harry to say something. But he remains as silent as I do. Finally, I can't take it any longer and turn to look at him. He's watching me with hawk eyes and pursed lips.
"What's your problem?" I can't resist saying the words that are in my mind. "You're such a fucking asshole. Do you know that?" I glare at him and notice his lips twitching. "Are you going to answer me or not?"
"What do you want me to say, Cassie?" he finally speaks and raises his eyebrow at me. My stomach's doing flip-flops as I stare at him, unable to forget and ignore how attracted I am to him. "My name is Cassidy, not Cassie."
"And I suppose you're going to tell me you're not a prostitute either?"
"You're a fucking asshole." I grab y bag. "I'm out of here."
"Running away again?" His voice is tight as he grabs my shoulders to stop me.
"Don't touch me." I shake him off me, ignoring the tingles that run through my body.
"Leave my brother alone."
"Excuse me?"
"He's young and impressionable, and I won't let a gold-digger get her hooks into him."
"A gold-digger?" My mouth falls open in shock. "Are you joking? You're really going to stand there and start insulting me again?"
"I'm not insulting you. I'm just letting you know that I have your number."
"You have my number?" I repeat, dumbfounded.
"I know what sort of girl you are, Cassidy Franklin," he sneers, and he moves his face closer to mine. "I've got your number alright."
"There's no way in hell I'm staying around to listen to you insulting me, Professor Styles." I quickly turn around and walk towards the door.
"Wait." His voice is commanding, and I stop involuntarily, a part of me hoping that he's about to apologize.
"What?" I watch as he walks up to me casually. He looks like a lion about to attack his prey. I swallow hard as I realize I'm the prey. "I just want to do this."

He stops in front of me, and before I know what's happening, his lips are crushing down on mine and his hands are on my lower back, bringing me into him. My breasts crush against his chest and I feel as if my soul's leaving my body as his tongue consumes me roughly, as his hands caress my back. My hands find their way to his head and I run my fingers through his silky locks, allowing myself to forget how much I hate him as my hunger takes over.

He's tasting so goddamn delicious--even better than I remember.
His lips are sweeter somehow, plump and sweet like ripe grapes. My brain is screaming at me to pull away, to stop his invasion of my mouth, but I can't. My body doesn't want to run away from his touch, even though my mind does. But Harry does it for me. He brakes off the kiss slowly and pulls away from me. I wait for him to say something scathing, something that would make me hate him again, but instead he lightly touches my lips with his fingers and stares at me consideringly.
"You really shouldn't let strange men kiss you."
"I don't think I let you. You didn't really ask."
"No. You're right. I didn't." he nods slightly and a harried expression crosses his face. "I suppose you're right."
"You shouldn't be kissing your students." I start getting angry, wanting to show him that I have some power as well. "I'm sure it could get you fired."
"Perhaps." He nods and the humour's back in his eyes. "But I'd rather kiss you than have you try to trap my brother."
"How do you know I wouldn't be trying to trap you?" I snap, annoyed again.
"You could never trap me." He laughs, a slow, long, dry laugh. But there's no humour in his eyes. "I'm older and smarter than Louis. That's why I need to protect him."
"And when you fucked me the other day, who were you protecting then?" I try to keep my voice strong as hurt courses through me.
"I fucked you because I wanted to feel myself inside of your sweet body." he murmurs as he looks me over slowly. "No other reason."

Our eyes stay locked for a few minutes as we just stand there staring at each other, and I feel my knees start to tremble. It's almost too much. He's too much.
"I'll leave your class." I take a step back.
"And go where?"
"I can join the literature program." I swallow. "My friend Anna is in it. She told me they need more people."
"You didn't even know who Nabokov I," he sneers. "I don't think the literature program will be a good fit for you."
"I can't stay in this class if you're going to insult me." I shake my head to clear my thoughts. My brain's starting to get cloudy from being so close to him.
"I didn't know I had insulted you."
"What?" I look at him in disbelief. "You've basically called me a whore and a gold-digger, and you don't know that you've insulted me?"
"Your skin is too thin."
"Can I go?" I sigh and wait for his response. I don't want to deal with him. I need time to think.
"I haven't interviewed you for the position yet."
"Forget it." I shrug. "I don't want it anymore."
"Come, now. Surely that's not true."
"I don't want to work for or with you.
"I should be hurt." He laughs, but his eyes are blank. "But I'm not."
"I'm sure you're not."
"You start tomorrow at eight."
"What?" I frown, wondering if I heard that correctly. "What do you mean?"
"Was I not clear? You should come to my office tomorrow at eight a.m."
"You haven't even interviewed me yet."
"You were the only applicant, so you win."
"I didn't win anything. I told you, I don't want the position."
"Are you scared, Cassie?"
"Scared of what?" I take another step back as he takes a step forward. I can't allow him to touch me again. I know that I wouldn't be able to stop myself from responding if he'd touch me again.

"Scared because I know who you are."
"I don't know what you think you know." I look him in the eye. "And I'd never be scared of an asshole like you. I accept the position."
"Good." He smiles and walks back to his desk as if nothing happened. He picks up his briefcase and pulls out his cell phone. "What's your phone number?"
"Why do you want my number?"
"So I can text you my address."
"Why do I need your address?"
"Because that is where my office is."
"What? It's not here?"
"No." He shakes his head. "It's in Knightsbridge."
"Can't I just meet you here?"
"No."
I frown. "But why were you in a hotel the other night--"
"What's your number, Cassidy?" He cuts me off and hands me his phone. "Input it here, and I'll expect you in the morning. Don't be late."
"I don't even know what to say," I mumble as I put my number into his phone.
"No need to say anything." He takes the phone back from me and puts it in his pocket.
"What am I going to be doing for you?"
"We'll discuss it tomorrow."
"Oh God, you don't expect me to be your assistant-slash-lover, do you?" I blurt out. "I've read books about this, you know. Man in power hires poor, innocent girl to be his assistant, but really she's his sex toy to have sex at his whim. Just because I slept with you once doesn't mean you can bend me over a desk at your will. Contrary to what you may think, I'm not a slut and I can't be bought." I take a deep breath and continues, ignoring the sudden light shining in his eyes.
"You're my professor. You can't do this. I can get you fired. This is sexual harassment."
"See, Cassidy," he speaks quietly, "this is why you shouldn't study literature."
"What?" I frown at him. That's his response to my entire diatribe?
"What kind of books are you reading?" He laughs. "I've never heard of any great literature with the premise of 'easy girl becomes ex slave to powerful man.' Put down the Harlequins and learn about real life, Cassidy. I neither want nor need you to do any sexual favours for me."
"I..." I mumble, flabbergasted at his words. "I don't read Harlequins."
"Good. I wouldn't want you to go getting any dreams in your head about this situation. I know how you girls are. You'll never have a relationship with me or my brother."

His eyes flash at me. "And while I admit you were good for a night, I have no need to repeat it."
"You're an asshole."
"I'll see you in the morning, Cassie."
And with that, he saunters out of the room, leaving me standing there, wondering what the hell is going on.