Banging Texas Girls

Chapter 7: Habrina "Audi"

Oneshot 7 (Mabrina/Harry) "Audi"

Part seven of the one shot series. Just for you, Mabrina! Nice and dirty ;)

Follow her on twitter here: @69HarryFeels

Link on the side of the song for you to listen to while you read ---> (C'mon C'mon by One Direction)

"Oh my god, I think that guy is staring at you," my friend nudged me, practically yelling in the crowded, loud club.

"Would you quiet down?" I hissed at her. "Who?"

"Him! Oh...he's gone..." Felicia, my best friend's hand wilted mid-point.

"Oh well, there are many more fish in the sea!" I teased, swigging down the rest of my drink and stepping away from the bar. Me and my best friend had decided that instead of spending another miserable night in, eating Nutella and watching Gossip Girl reruns, we'd shell out some cash and finally go be social. As usual, my gorgeous friend had guys over her all night. Me...not so much. I'd spend my night in the corner of the bar, drinking Vermouths and checking my phone every five seconds.

Felicia claimed if I'd just get on the dance floor, I'd get more offers. But I'd never been much of a dancer. Besides, all the guys on the dance floor wanted to do was rub their crotch on my ass.

"I'm going to go dance with that guy," Felicia giggled, running off. I watched her talk to a cute blonde for a second, then he drug her out onto dance floor and they began dipping and jiving together. Sighing, I sat back down on my barstool and took a sip of my drink.

"Why aren't you dancing?" Someone whispered in my ear. His voice was low and a bit raspy, but sweet. Not demanding. Not lustful. Plus, I was almost sure I detected a British accent. What a breath of fresh air. I swept the barstool around to face him, swallowing a mouthful of vermouth.

"I'm not such of a dancer," I replied shyly, tucking my hair behind my ear and looking him up and down. He was wearing a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, tucked loosely into blue jeans and a green beanie over pushed back curly locks.

"I bet you can," he smiled, showing a perfect set of white teeth and huge dimples. Definitely British.

"Trust me on this one," I shot back, "I'm not good."

"You don't know until you try!" He reached forward and grabbed my wrist, attempting to pull me off the barstool, but I kept my ass rooted. There was no doubt he was smoking hot, but all the more reason to not embarrass myself by twerking around like a dying ferret in front of him.

"Trust me," I tried to reclaim my wrist, but he held it firmly in his surprisingly huge hand.

"Show me," he smiled again, and I felt my resolve fading.

"Uh..." I paused, holding his gaze, his blue-green eyes unwavering.

"I'll buy you a drink," he teased, motioning towards my half drank vermouth.

"Maybe just one dance." I shrugged and let him pull me out of my seat. I laughed as he guided me onto the dance floor. He swung his shoulders back and forth to the beat, and I mimicked him.

"Don't say you weren't warned!" I yelled over the music, and he laughed, putting his hand on my hip, immediately making me feel awkward. He could probably have any girl in there, why was he even talking to me?

"My name is Harry, by the way!" He hollered, still grinning ear to ear.

"Where are you from?"

"Cheshire!"

"In the UK?"

"Is there another? Did the accent give it away?" He was teasing me now, dimples deepening.