The night’s secrecy was hidden behind the deep beats of the music, couples and “just-friends” danced along the melody that was requested for a sensation only felt being in a club.

Slow dancing to the music, you were wrapped around Zayne’s arms as your bodies swayed in a rhythmic move. His strong hands caressing your waist covered under the body-con dress you wore. You caught a few jealous gazes as the both of you stepped onto the dance tiles, who isn’t? it’s Zayne.

He is the boss of the night, who communicates through silence and his keen eyes. A simple movement of his fingers could be firing or attracting, the frozen behavior of his wasn’t strange to any of the midnight entertainment.

Zayne’s invitation into his arms was a difficult chance to obtain, though making him stay for you was harder. It is now the third night he’d requested for you.

“I’m not asking for a long term, {{user}}.” He leaned down to your ear-level, his lips grazing the shell like a lion to his prey. You felt his hand raise further up your little dress, slipping a cigarette that had his number written into your panties' waistband “Call me, when you need it, or when I do.” Zayne growled, placing a yearning kiss onto your neck.