Gangster

Chapter 8

Alison's POV

I was surrounded in darkness. The only source of sound was the clicking of my heels on the ground. I was wearing the pink dress that I had worn to the club earlier. There was a slight breeze blowing around, which calmed my jittery nerves.

From the feel of cold brick walls against my fingertips, I knew I was walking in some alley. I didn't know how I'd landed up here. It was a fucking labyrinth. I searched around for my cellphone but it didn't have it on me.

"Shit shit shit," I cursed angrily. I had never been good with the dark and to say I was scared wouldn't be a lie.

"A pretty mouth like yours shouldn't be talking like that, Angel."

I turned back sharply, only to find Harry who had a wicked smirk on his face, leaning against the wall. The moonlight shone on his face, giving him rather an odd look but still my heart immediately started pounding and my stomach flipped over and over.

The things he made me feel surprised me.

"What are you doing here?" I demanded.

He came closer to me and I was forced to look up at him to maintain eye contact.

"I'm not done with you yet," he whispered hotly in his raspy voice.

He bent down, lips pressing firmly to mine and hands grabbing my hips. Instantly I felt like I was on fire, desire coursing through my entirety. My arms wrapped around his neck as he pushed me up against the cold wall, body pressing into mine to hold me in place. I moaned in his mouth as he ground his hips into mine roughly, calloused hands hitching my dress up.

"Fuck, baby," Harry growled, kissing my neck, sending jolts of delight down my spine. "You drive me so fucking insane."

My fingers found the buttons on his shirt, clumsily undoing them. I pushed the material off his shoulders, running my hands slowly along his toned, warm skin. Harry groaned as I raked my nails down his torso, making sure to leave a few marks so that everyone would know he was mine.

I wanted him then and there, I would have let him fuck me against the wall if he wanted to.

And by the way he eagerly pulled down my dress, biting at the skin on the top of my chest, I knew he wanted it as much as I did.

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I sat up suddenly and gazed around in panic.

Where was I?

I looked around the room, a sigh of relief escaping my lips as I realized it was my bedroom. I leaned back against the headboard, trying to reprise what I had been dreaming about.

What the hell was that?!

Goosebumps fluttered on my arms as I replayed my erotic dream. It'd felt too real, far too intense to be just a dream.

But why Harry, of all people? I'd never had a wet dream about anyone before, especially about someone whom I barely knew. And Ryan Gosling didn't count.

What was fucking wrong with me?

I got off the bed and went to the kitchen. I gulped down a glass of water before gripping the edge of the counter, trying to stay calm. But only images of a shirtless Harry played again and I groaned in frustration.

Just fucking stop making me sexually frustrated, goddammit.

I had never really been in a relationship. That would explain my lack of knowledge and interest in sex but somehow with Harry around, it was different. I didn't understand why I suddenly felt like a hormonal teenager.