Zayn watches me with the most innocent expression. I can't formulate a response, I'm not sure that my voice will support me. All I know is that there is this unnerving feeling in the pit of my stomach, my cheeks are on fire. I want nothing more than to somehow muster up some of that cockiness that I always drips from every word I speak, I want to show him that his words don't affect me, but this feeling is very foreign to me.

"What makes you think I want to fuck you?" I say, sitting next to him.

It's too late for me to act like he hasn't affected me, he's picked up on it. The smug look on his face is enough indication that he's not playing the same games I am.

I sit criss-cross, avoiding his gaze. I wonder how he feels about this.

"I saw how you looked at me, Anastasia."

I've never felt so weird? Embarrassed? Intimidated? I'm speechless for the first time in my life and I am not liking this one bit, and even though I would have preferred for this little meeting to go better, a plan is born.

My eyes meet his, with some hesitation that could be mistaken for uninterest.

He smiles, "James isn't really your type, is he?"

Oh, James.

The man had a point. James wasn't exactly everything I looked for in someone, but I had never been a picky girl. I knew that I liked them much, much older than me.

"I don't have a type, exactly. I like older men and that's it," He raises a brow. "Besides, it's not like you know me anyway."

"Daddy issues?" Zayn chuckles at my response, "I'd like to know you. We could be friends, we could be whatever you want."

"Maybe," I raise a brow, "Make no mistake, I don't want to fuck my father. I just like the sophistication."

He chuckles again- I watch as his eyes crinkle and his mouth turns upwards. His hands are big and they have some scars, but I like them. Everything about him is warm and reminds me of crisp weather, how it feels the first cold night of Autumn at night.

"I think you like older men because they give you what you want, not for any other reason," I watch his every movement as he places his hand on my upper thigh, "I think you might like attention, too."

The pit in my stomach has somehow grown deeper, this is like a new nervous reaction. I suddenly feel very alert and awake when his fingers trail up and down my exposed flesh.

"You're right," I sigh, looking up at him through my lashes. I place my smaller hand on top of his casually, catching him by surprise.

"Come on," I whisper, scooting much closer to him, "I want you to fuck me, now."

Zayn pulls me into his lap, not actually making much effort to do so, since I was already so close to him.

It's like a lightbulb has suddenly gone off in my head, this is the perfect plan. Everything that I've ever wanted is within my reach now. This was so much easier than I had expected it to be, this pleases me. That bullshit about needing to work and struggle for your goals obviously doesn't apply to me.

I don't need James anymore.

"Your dad - he's uh- downstairs..." Zayn whispers in my ear, I hear his sharp intake of breath when I start rocking against him.

"Please?" I squeak, "We can go to my room."

I hop off his lap, taking his hand in mine. The entire house feels stuffier than ever and I'm desperate for this warmth hanging over me to abandon my space.

He's silent as we walk to my room. For once, I'm interested to know how someone else is feeling. I'm desperate suddenly- for him to like me, for him to stay with me, for him to not look at anyone else. It's this animal, savage feeling that makes my blood boil.

The beginning of an obsession.