One Direction Imagines and Preferences Book 3

#493 Dancing - neil

Cause you remind me of something, girl, you gotta show me..."

Niall: Niall always used his knee as an excuse to never dance, but that never stopped you. He liked to watch you at home, in just his shirt and your panties, hair in a bun and no makeup, but his favorite was watching you tear it up at a bar or a club. He liked the different light colors to illuminate your skin, your sultry eyes catching his every so often as he stayed in his seat. You always stayed on the edge of the dance floor, more for his benefit than yours, knowing he liked to watch you. You slid your hands down your swaying body, palms skimming your body in the way that he would in the safety of your bedroom, away from the prying eyes of the boys in the club. But you only had eyes for him, hair cascading around your bare shoulders. He tipped his beer bottle back, draining the last sixth of it in one go, thudding it down on the bar. He crooked a finger, beckoning you toward him, and after another minute of dancing-and driving him up the wall-you allowed yourself to slink toward him, letting him pull you so that his knee was nestled between your thighs. His large hands came to wrap around your lower back, right in the dip, yours resting on his chest, his breath fanning over your face. "You gonna dance for me like that when we get home, babygirl?" He asked, voice thick and raspy, peaking at you through his lashes. Swallowing, you nodded, and he pulled you impossible closer, lips catching sinfully on your lobe, tugging. "I know you will, princess. So what'dyou say? Let's get out of here?" He whispered, and shivers shot all over your body. All you could do was nod, wait for him to pay for his tab, and then lead you out of the club and back home, where you gave him his own personal show.