Veronica [Zarry]

the ugliest creature

It's packed tonight. The place is stuffy, packed with huddled sweaty bodies. The smell of cologne hangs heavily in the air, nearly choking me. My eyes are watering. There's the flash of Rolex watches under the dim lights, the sparkle of rings and gold chains.

You can sense all the wealth, can read the stories on their faces. Unhappily married, complacent with their lives as they throw away wads of cash, immersed in their fantasies.

And she's on the pole. She doesn't need it but it needs her.

There are lots of cheers, dollar bills littering the stage. Fine jewelry and broken dreams beside her as some of them whistle. It's digusting to me. They see something completely different than I do, they see her as a prop; they objectify her. It isn't about the size of her breasts or the way she spreads her legs. It's about movement and the expression she wears on her face as she dances, gets lost in the feeling of taking flight.

I see art as she spins from the top to the bottom, ankle catching, stopping her from crashing to the stage. She grinds against it, winds back up like one of those ballerinas in a music box.

She switches out with a beautiful chocolate skinned girl I haven't seen before and I wonder why all these stunning, talented women choose to stay here. I'm expecting Veronica to rack up some cash but she smiles, all eyes on her as she walks my way.

"I think every other man here is jealous."

"Too bad," she smirks, hand on my chest as she straddles my waist. "They don't know I'm yours," she whispers hotly, lips brushing against the shell of my ear.

She's so enticing.

I'm surrending to her. Passion and desire burning inside of me as she starts rocking her hips, fingers fisting up my curls.

I keep reminding myself that this is Zayn. That he has it in him and one day I'll unravel him. Maybe he just doesn't realize it.

I'm moaning her name, cupping her bum, kneading at her flesh and she gasps, head rolling onto my shoulder.

"Harry," she says breathlessly. "What are you doing?"

"Claire is watching."

She pulls back, eyes flicking over my face before she leans in, stealing a kiss.

Man, she's too good.

"Does she look jealous?"

We're laughing loudly, borderline obnoxious.

"If she wants a show I'll give her a show."

My heart nearly leaps from my chest as she parts my mouth with her tounge, hand dipping into my pants.

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. My eyelids feel heavy, I exhale, biting back a moan.

"Veronica," my voice trembles.

She peeks down at me, long lashes batting and I'm about to lose all self-control.

"Shh," her lips tickle my collarbone. "You want my number too," she jokes, stroking me agonizingly slow. "I'll give you a lot more than that."

There are so many things I want to say but my jaw goes slack. I don't care if Claire has given up.

I don't care about anything but her weight shifting on my lap and the fire in her eyes.

"It's just us Harry, don't think about her. Just us, okay? We're alone."

It feels like the truth, everything around her is blurry, light framing her face. I'm dissolving at her touch, letting all of my troubles disappear.

I'm focused on the sweep of her mouth and the magic in her fingers.

"Bet you're glad it's dark," she teases as I make a mess of myself in my pants, sweat breaking out across my forehead.

She leaves a lingering kiss on my forehead, winking as she climbs off of me. I laugh, watching her walk away and turn back, blowing me a kiss.

What a flirt.

"Your girl just got you off in front of a whole crowd. Do you even know how hot that was? Best handjob I've ever seen."

"A crowd? It felt more intimate than that," I frown.

"It's fine," Jess assures. "As long as the two of you were feeling each other why does it matter?"

"Yeah," I sigh, relieved. "I guess you're right."

"Uh oh. Here comes trouble."

"Nice display," she spits. "I swear I'll out her right here."

"You wouldn't," I say through gritted teeth.

"Oh but I would," she slinks around me, arm around my neck. "What's the matter Harry?"

"Leave her alone. Cute little stunt you played slipping me your number. She's already sleeping in my bed."

"Is that so? When will you confess that you don't like dick? Never?"

"Shut the fuck up," I snap, curled fist colliding with the bar.

My jaw is clenched tight, head throbbing and she staggers back, stunned look on her face as I step closer.

"You can't hit me," she hisses, balling up the material of my shirt. "You're so sexy when you're angry."

"Claire stop," I say, sheer exhaustion setting in. "I don't want to fight."

"Then don't fight it, just tell me you want me."

"Are you blind or just plain stupid?"

Jess snorts before stepping in to break things up.

"I think that's enough for one night. Desperate much Claire? He has dry cum in his underwear and I don't think it's because of you."

She flips her hair, struts back behind the bar. "I'm such a queen. No need to thank me."

"Now I can see how you and Veronica are besties. You both have a flare for the dramatic."

"Yeah and we both hate blondie."

There's shouting and cheering, a circle of people forming and I push my way through.

"Why don't you tell everyone who you really are bitch? You think you're better than me?"

Of course she would tear her down in front of everyone, put her in a vulnerable position when she doesn't deserve any of this.

"Are you going to fucking cry?"

"You step the hell away from her," I growl. "You're just jealous because she's better than you in every way. You'll never be as beautiful as her. On the inside you're the ugliest creature in existence."

"Whatever," she rolls her eyes, hand on my shoulder. "When you want a real woman, you know where to find me."