You and Zayn had a fight, so he left your house without saying where he was heading to. You thought he was going around to spraypaint something or something like that, but you needed something different. You needed music to shut your mind up, so you headed to the club you and Zayn used to go. Everybody knew you there, so you felt safe even though you were alone. You didn’t realise how much time had already passed and how many cocktails you had already drunk. Suddenly you felt an hand on your waist and you almost chocked with your alcohol when you turned your head and saw Zayn with a joint in his mouth dancing at a few inches from your body. «You look amazing.» he said in your ear, getting his joint in his fingers. «So do you.» you replied. He was dressed very elegantly, so you thought he had gone to his parents’ to change clothes. Maybe he was planning to sleep there but changed his mind. He moved closer and you could feel the fabric of his shirt moving on your dress. You put your arms around his neck, dancing all around him. As he had you in front of him once again, he pushed you on a door and started kissing you, his hands caressing your thighs and going under your black dress. It had a zip on the front, going from your breasts to your thighs. «This is way too short for you, miss.» he complained in between kisses on your shoulder. «It’s easier to get rid of.» you replied, biting his neck and leaving an hickey on it. Zayn opened the door behind your back and pushed you in the shokehold. «Give me that.» he ordered you to hand him your cocktail. He put an ice cube in his mouth and started kissing you, while with his left hand he unzipped your dress. The cold on your tongues and the hot temperature of his body made such a perfect and exciting match. At the same time, you opened his tie and unbottoned his shirt. He let your dress fall on the floor, and he hugged you, caressing your back with his hands and liftiing you up on a table, so you were sit in front of him. «Snuff out that joint on me.» you whispered in his ear, feeling the consumed joint still in his fingers. He kissed you once again, passing the little ice cube on your tongue and pressed the joint on your skin. You moaned in his mouth and scratched his back. As the joint went off, you felt so turned on that the last thing you had the power to say was: «Fuck me hard.»
