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“What’s on your mind?” he asked, studying me as he sat back. This time, he switched the machine off. “You look like you’ve got something to say.”
“Nope. Just observing.”
His gaze traveled over me, slow and deliberate.
Heated.
“Seemed like some pretty deep observation.”
“Like what you’re doing now?” I raised an eyebrow at him.
His perusal of me was far from professional, but I wasn’t bothered by that – nor was I surprised. I was well-aware of the effect I had on people – men and women. My looks were a carefully cultivated asset that had served me quite well. A face and body with the ability to straddle the dichotomy between innocently angelic and downright devilish.
And yet, even with this knowledge – this gift, some might call it… I’d never fucked a man simply because Iwanted to, before.
Maybe I’ll start with him.
“What is it that you do?” he asked, finally sitting forward again, ready to work. “Like, for a living. Besides make motherfuckers crash into rocks?”
That made me smile.
He was smart enough to peg me as exactly what I was – a deadly siren, ready to lure men to their deaths – although, of course, he thought it was metaphorical.
“I’m… on sabbatical right now,” I told him.
His gaze followed my tongue as I raked it over my lips, one eyebrow hiking as he turned the machine back on. “What does that mean?”
If he didn’t have the needle on my skin, I would’ve shrugged. “ that I’m taking a break from it all. To find myself.”
“Yeah?” he asked, half distracted by what he was doing. “How is that working out for you?”
“It isn’t,”would’ve been the honest answer.
Not even in the slightest.
“I’ve been adrift, actually,” I told him, because he, like everyone else, was a stranger. “No focus.”
“I thought the lack of focus was the whole purpose of taking a sabbatical. A… perk.”
My gaze drifted up to his again, back to those beautiful dark coffee eyes. “It would seem that way, huh?” I asked, not blinking until he gave his attention back to my skin. We’d been at this for hours, but I refused to look down until it was ready. Until the rose was gone. “I guess… most people would relish the idea of such freedom.”
His mouth curved at the corners, white teeth appearing to sink into the soft flesh of his bottom lip, scolding it and suppressing a smile. “You’re not most, are you?” he muttered, more to himself than me.
You have no idea.
“What did you do before this?” he asked, reinforcing my feeling that his other question was only barely meant to be spoken aloud. “Before your…sabbatical?”
“Followed orders.”
He scoffed, chuckling a bit until his eyes drifted back to meet mine, and he realized I wasn’t joking. “Really?You?”
“Really. Me.”
One thick, barely-tamed eyebrow went up. “Wouldn’t have thought you were the type.”
“What type would you have thought?”
“I told you that already… when I asked about your job before, remember? You were cagey about it then too,” he chuckled. “What are you, some kinda secret agent or something? You did pop up in the neighborhood out of nowhere, getting’ niggas kicked out of the coffeehouse for coming at you wrong. So really, it checks out.”
