I think I have just lost half my body weight in sweat. I am buzzing, but I need water. I've left Nancy on the dance floor, outrageously frugging with some guy from Newcastle. Doug DiCarto has now finished his set, but I'm certainly in no hurry to finish this night. I have energy I didn't even know I had. I'm still so pumped, I'm even standing at the bar, jigging on the spot, waiting to get served.

"I told you I would see you and your hips again, didn't I?" Standing right behind me, is the reason why I am so damn pumped.

Even though I know I look all hot and sweaty, even though my hair is damp around my temples, forehead, and at the nape of my neck, and even though my mascara has probably smudged beyond belief—I am sassily confident as I turn to face Doug DiCarto. "Well, I have a professional interest in you, don't I?"

He stares down at me, cocking his head to the side as he does. Just as he's about to say something, a group of lads are eager to meet their god. "Man, that was so awesome!" One lad is now patting him hard on his shoulder.

"Total respect, dude! Total respect!" Another is now wanting to touch the genius that is Doug DiCarto.

"Yeah, you were bad-ass up there, man...absolute bad-ass." Another tries to squeeze in his praise between the praise of his two hyped up mates.

"Thanks guys." Doug graciously says, making it obvious that he is now keen to talk to me, because he slowly turns his back on them.

They all kind of hang around behind him, chatting loudly about how he's 'totally cray', 'bang on', 'the bomb diggity', 'ear candy', 'quality', 'legendary', and many other forms of idolatry praise that they can come up with. And after his amazing set, I get their need to speak to Doug. I get their need to express just how much his music has touched them tonight. I feel just the same, and when I'm about to pour some more of that praise all over him, a girl behind the bar beats me to it. "You nailed it up there, Doug. Totally smashed it tonight." Is it just me, or is she breathing in hard so that her boobs look all perky and there?

"Thanks, Amber!" Doug throws her one of his devastatingly cute smiles. And it's then that I realise it's not only me who is on the receiving end of those devastatingly cute smiles of his. In amongst the dancing, the feeling free, the vodka and the admiration, I seemed to have forgotten that. His flirting isn't exclusively for me. It's actually for any female with a pulse. It's a sobering thought. It's a sobering realisation. But I'm a big girl. And if Doug DiCarto wants to sprinkle a little of his flirtation all over me, I am happy to sprinkle a little Fenner flirtation back all over him.

"What can I get you, Doug?" Little Miss Perky Boobs, asks all cutesy-tutesy like.

Now standing closely beside me, he is annoyingly now being very gentlemanly. "What do you want me to get you and Nancy to drink?"

"Just two waters, please?" I'm now wiping the perspiration away from my neck, trying to look less sweaty than I already know I am.

"Three waters, Amber?"

"Sure thing." She flashes him a wide smile. Flashing a smile that's almost as perfect as her perfect perky boobs. Oh god, kill me now! I'm turning all petty and jealous. What the hell is wrong with me?

I just need to turn around. I don't need to see Little Miss Perky Boobs and Doug Delectable flirting with one another. So I turn around, and watch everyone dancing and still enjoying themselves. After the flirty exchanges, Doug hands me my water. "Where's Nancy?" He asks, screwing the lid off his colder than cold drink.

Trying to spot her through the heaving dance floor, I can't see her anywhere. "She's in there somewhere, dancing with some Geordie guy." I'm holding the chilled plastic bottle against my neck, enjoying its coolness against my hotter than hot skin.

Doug is watching me. He's watching where I place the bottle. He's watching it intensely. "Now, about the professional interest in me that you have?" In a second, he rewinds our conversation back to the moment before we were interrupted by the worshipping lads and the very flirty Amber.

Having a large gulp of my water, I don't intend on answering him right away. I let him wait a few moments for my reply. Once again, I am wearing my game face. "I always like to get a professional feel for anyone I might work with." Is what I impressively tell him.

Doug shifts around in front of me, keeping me firmly sandwiched between the bar and himself. "How's that professional feel working out for you?" He's so close, I can smell the aftershave on his body and the mint on his breath.

Surprised by my body's reaction to him, I try not to let him see anything of what is happening inside of me—a pumping harder heart, a stomach that is flipping this and that way, greedy eyes that want to drink all of him in, a jittery feeling in my legs and hands—it would all be too easy for Doug DiCarto to witness the exciting effect he has on me. "Professionally speaking, I'm interested in you." My answer is almost monotone, because I'm trying so hard to keep how he makes me feel from out of my voice.

Holding onto the bar with both his hands, I'm now caged in by his arms and his body. He smells so good. Looks so good. Oh god, this isn't good. Is what I giddily tell myself. "Professionally speaking, you're interested in me?" His eyes dilate, dilating with seductive curiosity.

Seeing nothing but him in front of me, I have to look into his smutty eyes. I have to look into those probing pools of dark and impure perfection. And my gaze on him traitorously wanders to other areas of his face. To his strong bone structure. To his darkly arched eyebrows. To his well formed lips. To his defined Cupid's bow. I fixate on them all, wondering how the hell I am going to answer him with just the tiniest shred of decorum and attitude. A man like Doug DiCarto will act on a moment of womanly weakness, on a moment of female vulnerability, and I don't want to be just like all the other gushy women who fall easily at his feet. If we are to do this track together, then there needs to be a two-way respect. He needs to see me as a woman, not just a hole to have some DiCarto fun with. Doug is perfection personified. He is the cherry on top of all things fanciable—only, he knows it. "Let's just be clear, I'm not letting you into my knickers tonight." Brazenly slips out of my mouth.

Twisting his own mouth into a smirk, he remains just as cocky. "I'm happy to wait until tomorrow?" He then gazes hard at me, flexing the muscles on his forearms as he keeps me penned in between them.

No matter how self assured and cockily arrogant Doug is, I still find his attention inwardly thrilling and flattering. The DJ he is, the music he produces, are both things that I'm quietly in total awe of. As a man, he is tall, dark and daring. Three things that I know I find attractive. And I am attracted to Doug DiCarto. I don't actually think there's many women who wouldn't be. But I can't be foolish about this. There's having fun, then there's being damn right stupid.

If I play this wrong, I could blow everything.

I can't be easy.

And I can't make it too easy for him.

I already know that Doug wants my voice for his music, but if he wants me for himself, he is going to have to work much harder than he is ordinarily used to. "All that is happening tomorrow, is you letting me hear what you have already produced for this track you want me to sing on."

His lips purse, then he smiles as he takes in a really deep breath. "Sample first, then some fun?" He hopefully asks.

Shaking my head at his persistence, I laugh. "Sample first, then some shopping fun for me."

His head hangs low with a loud groan. "Sample first, then a really cold shower for me." Releasing his grip on the bar, I am soon free of him and his arms, but he is by no means finished with me. "Just so you know, I know that you're wanting something to happen between us almost as much as I do, Frankie. Your body tells me what you stubbornly don't want to. I saw the glistening goose bumps on the back of your neck and on your shoulders and all the way down your arms. I saw the two little breaths you needed to take to steady your reaction to me standing behind you. Your head is telling you one thing, but your body is definitely telling me another." He stands taller, enjoying himself as he audaciously goes on. "And when you turned around to face me, your pupils were like two black moons." Bringing himself even closer, intimidatingly close, yet hot as hell close, he whispers into my ear. "And beneath that dress, your breasts also betrayed you." He is smiling, smiling against my ear lobe. "It almost made me want to put you out of your sensible misery, but I can wait for things that are worth waiting for." Then, he politely kisses me on my cheek. "I'll text you about tomorrow." Looking down at his watch, he then realises that we are already well into the early hours of tomorrow. "Scrap that, I'll see you later." Comes his cocky reply, like Frank Sinatra cocky.

After all that I've been telling myself. After all the inner pep talks I have been having with myself—Doug DiCarto has silenced them all.

Just when I thought I had him and his charm firmly under control, he undoes it all with stark truths, arousing whispers and a gentlemanly little kiss.

Beneath that calm veneer of his, is a gorgeously cunning and sexily manipulative man. So gorgeously cunning and so sexily manipulative, I can confirm that me and my knickers are most definitely now in trouble.

**Video above is: ALARM - ANNE MARIE**