Mission 1832: Harry Styles

Chapter Five:

I run my hands through my wet hair as the now warm water hits my body. This is my fifth cold shower that I have taken since I saw Harold yesterday when I was with Sophia. I can't help but to feel attracted to the long haired guy with the golden brown locks. His green eyes pierced on my body, like they will never leave. His large hands around my petite frame practically able to wrap his two hands around me. I look down at my body to see the slight red marks shaped like his hands.

I couldn't help but feel it was his way of marking his territory. I tried to wash my sexual frustration off towards the guy, but it never works and I always just have to bring my two fingers between my legs. I turn off the water and I move the shower curtain to one side moving it out of my way. I climb out of the shower and stand in front of the mirror and look at myself. The slight red marks upon my skin coming from my neck and down to my belly button.

I throw my hair into a messy bun and looked through my wardrobe. Just as I was about to put on my underwear my phone rang, and not my business phone, but my mission phone which means, none other than the Harold Styles is calling me. I walk over to it to see the familiar phone number that was placed into his file. I answer the phone while picking up his file to go through it.

"Melody Pruitt, how may I help you," I say casually like the name belongs to me.

"Hello Pruitt, this is Harold Styles," the raspy voice says in my ear.

"Well how may I help you Mister Styles," I say reading an unfamiliar section in his file.

"Well, I am feeling like eating at Italian restaurant tonight," he says.

"Well there is a nice five star restaurant called The Palace. Their Italian food is extremely scrumptious, you may like it there. I am a regular customer would you like to make accommodations," I say.

"No, but thank you. I will try the restaurant, but I do not want to eat alone," he says as I arch my eyebrow.

"Well I am pretty sure that you will have an escort Mr. Styles," I say calmly knowing what his next sentence will be.

"Well, that is what I was wondering. Would you like to be my escort," he says.

"Why would I Mr. Styles," I say with a smirk planted across my face.

"Well the night just wouldn't end with dinner, besides I know you were thinking about me," he says.

"What makes you think that," I ask.

"Every woman is like that. They can't seem to get enough," he says.

"Well you called me Styles, I am pretty sure that you were thinking about me," I say smirking once again.

"That is very true Pruitt, so what do you say," he says.

"Well, I am quite busy today," I say dragging on.

"You could've said no, I have plenty of other woman who will love to be my escort," he says.

"How about you meet me at the coffee shop. I have to meet with a client there anyways," I say.

"What is the name of the coffee shop," he asks.

"Starbucks where else," I say a little bit of attitude in my voice.

"Well then, I will see you there Pruitt," he says and hangs up the phone.

I throw the phone on the bed and I grabbed my business phone and clicked the only saved number and put it towards my ear as the phone rung.

"Isabelle? What's happening," Allen says into the phone.

"Apparently, this isn't a complete day off," I say.