RED ROOM [H.S]

13.

I could feel the anger in Harry's touch. His fingers were all over my stomach, though his eyes switched from staring up at me, to following the mans movements behind me. Despite the events that unfolded last night, and how it only led me to have a few hours of restless sleep, I couldn't help but feel thankful for how protect Harry was of me. Covering me wasn't going to do much, but the fact Harry felt the need to protect me made a strange sense of happiness float through my body. I shouldn't though, I shouldn't have any sort of emotion towards Harry, but here I was, making everything even more complicated for myself.

Twisting myself in his lap, I found that the man had now wondered off, and had taken his eyes off me. It wasn't unusual for men to stare while you danced for another, but it didn't stop the sickening feeling that always came with it.

As soon as Harry realized that he had left, his hands dropped back to his sides, and allowed me to continue my dance on him. Despite how his body reacted to my touch, he didn't let his eyes leave mine. My breasts were basically in his face, though he didn't steal a look. I could see how his eyes darkened by the second, though I had a feeling it was more anger towards the man rather than the lust he was feeling. I hesitated, before reaching to brush my hands against his neck again.

"Are you okay?" I found myself asking, though I really shouldn't care. I didn't want to get myself caught up in the drama that followed Harry, but I didn't like how distant he looked in this moment. Almost like a ticking time bomb. I told myself I cared purely because I didn't want to be the one he exploded next too. I didn't want to be a causality.

"I don't like how men think they have a right to your body," he murmured, running a hand through his hair. "They just look and touch and speak to you like they own you...I fucking hate that."

I don't know why, but the curse world that fell from his mouth made a shiver run through my body. The fire in his eyes were deadly, and I worried that he might try and find the man.

"Keep your eyes on me," I told him softly. My fingers traced his jawline in a quick motion, adverting his eyes from behind me, and back into my face. In this lighting, I couldn't see the deep green of his eyes, just the danger that was written all over his face. Panic swarmed me quickly. "Don't look anywhere else."

He let out a breath, his breath fanning my face. "I can't help it sometimes," he admitted, his voice coming out in a growl. I felt his hands squeeze by his sides. His head tilted back to stare at the ceiling, his eyes shutting tightly. "I just have this urge to-to hurt him. He's disrespectful."

I gulped, but did my best not to show my nerves. Reaching down to unclench his fists, I rested his palms on my thighs, hating how I enjoyed how his eyes widened in surprise.

"Sophia..." he whispered, almost pleading like. "I don't want to be like them. I respect you."

He went to pull his hands away, but I held them in place. Ducking my head down to his ear, I got a whiff of his cologne mixed with the scent of his sweat. I hated how I fucking breathed it in like I was getting high off the scent of him. My brain seemed to sort circuit because this wasn't supposed to be something I liked. I wasn't suppose to allow anyone to touch me, so why was I letting him? Why was I so adamant that I distracted him from the fury that burned in his body? All I was suppose to be doing was getting information from him to feed to Bill.

"I'm letting you," I whispered in his ear. I pushed myself further down in his lap, pushing his hands around me so they rested on my back, just above my ass. "You're nothing like them."

Harry didn't say anything, though he did leave his hands there. My body was a traitor to my mind, that was for sure. My mind screamed to put distance between us, to keep the dance as PG as possible because Harry wouldn't question it. Instead, my body sought to be touched by him. The metal of his rings were cool against my skin, despite how his fingers made my body feel like I was in hell. I probably was given that I was enjoying this dance way too much.

A few songs had passed, and by time I pulled myself away from Harry, I knew it had been a little over twenty minutes of dancing. I could still feel his hardness under me,  I had to advert my eyes from his jeans, but at least he didn't look as embarrassed as the first time.

We were both sweating, and I hated how fucking attractive he looked with a few strains of his hair sticking to his skin. He pushed himself against the leather couch, his eyes boring into mine as he watched me adjust what I was wearing. I knew if I had dipped my fingers into my thong, I'd be wet. Just from that look alone, Harry made me want to squeeze my thighs together and run to the nearest bathroom.

I must be sick in the head for that. For wanting that. For even just thinking of that. Harry had an innocence to him, though I knew there was some sort of animal within him. I hated that I was intrigued by that. I hated how a fucked up part of me wanting to wake the beast and see how he liked to play. I was going insane, I swear. I shook my head to rid my dirty thoughts, my cheeks reddening when Harry eyed me with confusion. He probably thought I was insane as well.

"How are you getting home?" He asked, coming to his feet. "I don't think it's safe that you walk home anymore. Has Bill been in contact with you?"

He ran a hand through his hair, shaking it out so it didn't stick to his forehead and cleared his throat.

I hesitated for a moment for shaking my head. "No, I haven't heard anything."

He nodded, glancing around the room before his eyes found my again. "Are you hungry?"

Say no, say no, say no. "Yes."

God fucking damn it.

Harry grinned, a sight that showcased his dimples. "I'll wait for you to get ready. I will wait out the front for you."