She smirks, slinking past me and picking out the most dainty little red thong she can find and a silky black bra. She puts them on the counter and then turns, waiting expectantly for me. I shake my head, unable to do anything but huff a laugh as I pay for her underwear and watch her step into one of the changing rooms.
The changing rooms are little more than half-doors that leave me with a tantalizing view of her calves. I find my eyes lingering on that open space as I watch the dress fall to a pile beneath her feet. She kicks it away, and then her legs bend slightly and a tiny black thong follows behind it.
Fucking hell.
I turn to see the cashier smirking knowingly at me.
“Fuck off,” I growl.
He jumps a little, suddenly finding something to do away from the register. And away from me. I don’t look toward the changing room again until I hear the door open and see Makayla emerge. She looks ridiculously good in the clothes I picked out for her, and my gaze immediately drops to the way the gray leggings hug her wide hips and emphasize the perfect gap between her inner thighs. Knowing I picked the clothes and underwear out is turning me on in an unexpected way. It makes her feel like she’s mine. And that thought feels dangerously good.
She gets a plastic bag from behind the counter and stashes her old clothes inside and then follows me back outside.
I put my hand on her lower back naturally again, without thinking. I just need to be touching her. It’s a compulsion and I’m glad when she doesn’t stop me. The fabric of her top is thin beneath my fingertips and I drive myself fucking wild thinking about how good her bare skin would feel against mine. As we start walking down the street, I let the movement of her hips jostle my hand a few centimeters lower until my pinky rests just on the top of her perfectly round ass. I’m hard as a rock now, and mentally willing myself to move my hand away, but my muscles are in full-scale rebellion, refusing to obey any command that takes me further from her body.
After a few minutes of walking quietly together, I begin to let my mind wander, imagining what it would feel like to have Makayla as my own. To walk with her out in public like this, just enjoying the evening and heading out to grab a bite, knowing that we might go back to my place later, where I could do anything I’d like to her. It’s a nice fantasy, but that’s all it is. I’m too damaged and she’s too different. We’re not compatible anymore, no matter how much the sparks seem to fly at the slightest touch. Besides, a quiet life like that is more than I deserve. I’ve done and seen far too much to dream of anything but more vice-filled nights and the regret that follows every morning.
I have a job to do. I’m going to protect her. It’s that simple. The only reason I’m even trying to keep things cordial is that it makes my job easier and lets me be more effective. That’s all.
It’s also a total lie, taunts a small voice in the back of my head, but I push it down. It’s the truth if I fucking want it to be. I’ve had to kill men with my bare hands. If I can find a way to do that, I can find a way to stop letting my dirty fantasies get in the way of the fucking job I have to do. This is ridiculous.
We reach Z Shack, my favorite burger place. It’s jammed between a dry-cleaner’s and one of those scammy loan places. The windows are tinted, but when we step inside the bright lights of a dozen huge TV screens provide all the light the place needs. Servers in black shirts and jeans scramble around, grabbing to-go boxes and making milkshakes or taking orders.
I guide Makayla to the register, reluctantly taking my hand from her back to grab a menu and show her. “Just about everything is good,” I say. “But the Swamp Thing is my favorite.”
She gives me a strange look. “Sounds appetizing.”
“It is. Pulled barbeque pork and a burger patty with Z sauce.”
“What’s Z sauce?” she asks, having to raise her voice as the patrons cheer over something that happens in one of the games playing over the TVs.
“Delicious,” I say, smirking.
She rolls her eyes, but smiles. She reaches for her wallet and I stop her with a quick hand. “It’s on me,” I say.
“No, it’s okay, I can pay,” she says. “You already bought me this outfit. Which is really nice by the way. Thank you.”
“For what I’m charging you, the least I can do is buy you a burger and a change of clothes.”
She bites her lip and gives in, waiting behind me. I take the liberty of ordering the Swamp Thing for her. I know she’ll love it. She doesn’t complain when I add Oreo cheesecake milkshakes to the order either.
We find a place to sit while we wait for our food. Makayla is frowning at me, looking a little confused. “Do you normally eat like this?” she asks.
I shrug. “Sometimes. Why?”
“Well, it’s just that you’re… you know. I don’t get how you can eat like this and still be…”
“Still be…” I prompt, trying not to revel in her discomfort too much.
“You know,” she says. “You just. Well. You’re put together nicely.” She clears her throat and sits back, eyes widening a little as she likely replays what she just said to her own horror.
I bark a laugh. “Is that movie star slang?”
“I’ve never been in a movie. Just television.”
“You’re not happy doing television?”
She shakes her head as she fiddles with the roll of silverware on the table, plucking at the sticker holding the napkins together. “I love working on the show.”
“Yeah, I can tell,” I say sarcastically.
She laughs, stealing a glance at me and looking back down. “Really. I can’t complain. There are so many people who would kill to be doing what I’m doing.”
“That means you have to like it?” I ask.
She scowls at me. “No. It’s just that it makes me feel selfish for not being satisfied.”
“Fuck that,” I say. “If you want it, don’t stop going after it.”
She finally looks up at me, saying nothing for a long moment. A young girl drops our food off. Makayla’s eyes widen as she takes in the burger and shake. “This does look good.”
We spend a few minutes quietly enjoying our food. I forgot how much she and I always clicked. I hate talking while I’m eating, and she was always the same. We could just eat in relative peace, enjoying our food and talking after. She glances up at me, eyes sparkling as if she just thought of the exact same thing. There’s a glob of orange Z sauce at the corner of her mouth as she smiles.
I reach across the table and swipe it away with my thumb without thinking, licking the sauce from my finger. My unthinking gesture feels a hell of a lot more seductive than I planned, and judging by the way her chest is practically heaving, she thought so too. My cock stirs and I shift in my seat.
I’m about to apologize and set the record straight, to tell her that I don’t get involved with clients, but something outside the window catches my eye. A flash of gold. I just barely see the two pointed goat horns on a golden mask tucked in a man’s inner jacket pocket. I jolt upright, jostling the table. I rush outside the restaurant and hear Makayla coming after me.