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I feel that stirring under my skin, and I want to pull her close to me and taste her, taste the ash and the lingering victory from the night before on her lips.
While she’s standing there, she shifts and starts getting undressed. Her shirt comes off, and she tosses it toward what must be the bed, leaving her standing there with her tits out in front of the window like she doesn’t give a shit that someone might be watching.
Like she’s the queen of her fucking castle.
My cock definitely takes notice of that, stirring in my pants and getting hard. I’m too far away to be sure, but I tell myself that the little glimmer I can see against her skin isn’t a trick of the light, but the ring I put through her nipple. Still there, like a reminder that we’re connected. I hope she didn’t take it out.
River pushes her pants down and steps out of them, and then she turns her back to the window, walking away a bit.
I sit up in my seat, idly rubbing my cock through my pants. I press down with the heel of my hand and suck in a breath when my dick throbs in response.
Fuck, I want her.
She crosses back in front of the window, blowing out more smoke before she puts on a bra. I squint, trying to see if I recognize it.
It’s black and lacy, and maybe I’ve seen it before, maybe not. Either way, it looks damn good on her. Like everything does.
She pulls a shirt over her head and then puts on another pair of jeans. She smokes the last of her cigarette and then closes the window with a snap, letting the blinds down right afterward.
My cock is still throbbing, aching to be inside of her again, and I sigh once I can’t see her anymore. I guess I could go up, see if she wants to talk or something.
She left without saying goodbye, which is a pretty good sign she doesn’t want to see any of us anymore, but I’ve always been pretty good at ignoring signs when I want to.
The light goes out in her apartment, and I frown. It’s barely evening, still way too early for her to be going to bed or something. But then, a couple minutes later, she comes walking out the front door again.
River gets back into her car, starting it up and pulling out of the parking lot. I wait a beat, then two, and then I follow her.
I’m not sure where I’m expecting her to go, but it’s not to the nice part of Detroit. Where all the fancy people live. Most of them are just as full of shit as anyone who lives in the slums, but at least the people in the slums are honest about their shit most of the time.
What the fuck is River doing here?
With her silver hair and tattoos, she’ll stand out immediately.
She parks in front of a fancy clothing store. The kind with mannequins in the window that look snooty and judgmental. Intrigued, I watch her park and then do the same, following her inside.
“Welcome to…” The woman who steps up to greet me trails off when she sees me, and I flash her a grin.
“Just browsing.”
She nods and steps back, like she doesn’t know what to say to that, and I wander through the racks for a bit, hunting for a head of silver hair.
I find her trying on shoes, a few boxes pulled down and scattered around where she’s standing. The ones on her feet are strappy, lacing all the way up her legs in a silver color just a little bit darker than her hair.
She turns in the mirror, rotating one foot in a way that sets off the sparkly shit in the shoe.
I smirk and come right up behind her, leaning down to drag my tongue along her neck slowly.
River tenses for a second, and I can feel her coiling, ready to turn around and fuck me up. But then she relaxes at the last second, realizing it’s me and not some random creep.
She squirms a little, and I like the way that feels against me. Then she turns around and glares up at me.
“Look,” she says sharply. “If Gage sent you after me again—”
“He didn’t,” I tell her, cutting her off.
“Then why are you here?” she asks. “We had a deal, and it’s over. It hasn’t even been a day, and you’re already harassing me? What the fuck do you assholes want?”
I just grin at her, not daunted by her tone at all. I waggle my eyebrows and lean in close again. “We need to celebrate.”
Her brows snap together, and she looks up at me in confusion. “What do you mean?”
I could explain, but nah. It’s more fun if I don’t.
“It’s a good thing you came to this part of the city,” I tell her, glancing around at the rows of fancy clothes and shoes and hats and shit. “Because we need to get you a fucking dress.”
