20 Days *1 Day Left*

"You want me. Every inch of your body wants me," he hissed, "You want me to touch you. You want me to fuck you". "You have twenty days left, Styles," I whispered looking at his delicious lips. "But you don't", he smirked and pushed me to his bed.


8. Day Two: Part Two

Knock Knock

“Keira?” a male voice, Liam I guess, called out from outside the door. “Harry is asking for you. You should meet him. Now.”

“Got it,” I droned. Even though I haven’t lost the bet, I felt like he’s treating me like his slave, not to mention his almost sex toy, as well.


“Keva…” he greeted me.

“It’s Keira.” Couldn’t he remember my name? I have said it a dozen times already!

“Doesn’t matter to me, Keva,” he said non-chalantly. He examined me head to toe, nodded and then his trademark, smirked.

“What?” I demanded rudely.

“You look hot,” he smirked. “Quite unusual for a librarian.”

“Why did you call me here?” I asked changing the topic, but bringing the conversation to why exactly we were having a conversation right now.  

“Do I need a reason to call you to me?” he murmured seductively. The hair on the back of my neck rose and goosebumps appeared on my arms.

“Well, yes, you do,” I staggered trying to avoid feeling embarrassed that his voice made my breaths quicken and his eyes on me made my legs feel weak.

He strided across the room right in front of me. He is taller than I expected. Or maybe, I’m short. But he had this huge aura around him that made him look bigger and to my dismay, sexier.

His eyes were on me, or maybe somewhere around my chest. But those green eyes flicked a shade of grey. His lips curled. Sweet Jesus, not that smirk! I prayed that he didn’t smirked. His smirk made me angry and made my heart flutter inside. He grinned. What’s the difference between a smirk and a grin? No clue. But his grin was cute, boyish and for a change, he looked innocent. Usually he looks seductive, evil and bad-ass.

He raised his hand and softly traced his wrists against my cheeks, then to my neck and stopping at my shoulders. His touch. Made me shiver.

“You’re really pretty, you know that?” he murmured. “Makes me want to do so many things to you.”

I looked at him completely dazzled by him and his demeanor. He was bold, confident and straight forward. But nevertheless, he’s Harry Styles.

He leaned his head closer to mine. His lips inches from mine. His hand resting against my neck. His other hand pulling my waist closer to him. He looked at my lips then to my eyes.

“You know, Keva,” he whispered seductively, “If I fuck you, I’ll win anyway.”

Then came his smirk.

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