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With my hand on the doorknob, I’m not sure what to think of Blue following without question. Especially knowing what she’s walking into.
Or maybe she doesn’t know.
Maybe she thinks simply telling me to leave will work again.
I let myself into the room then walk to the opposite wall, placing distance between us because I can’t trust myself.
Blue steps into the room and quietly clicks the door shut behind her. Her violet eyes find mine and hold them, a million questions rolling through the unique color.
There’s no point in waiting on what she’ll say, so I beat her to the punch.
“I shouldn’t be here.”
She laughs softly. “Strange. I was about to say the same.”
“We have thirty minutes before your manager notices you’re gone.”
Blue barely blinks. I figured she’d ask how I know that. Or how I managed to buy us this time. But neither question floats free of her full lips. Not about that, at least.
“What happened?”
I still at the question, my neck and shoulders tight with tension. Closing my eyes, I take another breath and attempt to hide what I’m feeling.
With anybody else, I can pretend that everything is okay, but this woman sees it all.
It pisses me off.
And I have no idea why.
Maybe it’s because she thinks she knows me just by taking a quick look. Or maybe she’s treating me like she does every other bastard she runs across in this place.
Like I’m a game.
Or ever could be.
Ego has never been my biggest hang-up in life, but something about Blue feels like she’s dancing all over some line, and it plucks at every fucking nerve in my body.
Flashing her a smirk lined with the truth that she’s nothing more than tonight’s entertainment, I answer, “Not a damn thing. Just got bored and thought I’d like to see your tits again.”
If the words had any effect at all, you wouldn’t know it by looking at her. Her expression remains calm, her eyes holding mine like she’s got me by the balls. There’s nothing even remotely submissive about her demeanor or posture, and it makes me wonder about the life she’s lived.
“Don’t lie to me, Champ. And don’t patronize me or attempt to insult me. I’ve heard worse, and you haven’t been all that creative so far. Stop wasting my time and yours. You need something. I know the look.”
“What fucking look?”
Her lips tug down at the ends.
“The look of a junkie.”
Rage simmers to the surface. How fucking dare she? Who the hell does she think she is?
“A junkie?”
Laughter bubbles out of my chest as I push away from the wall and stalk toward her.
Blue has her usual fake wings outstretched behind her, but her full thighs, hips and ass are barely contained in a pair of red shorts, the top swell of her tits pushing out from a half corset top, the strings barely holding the piece together in front. You could bounce a fucking quarter off her stomach, and I imagine running my tongue over the flat surface to trace every shadow of feminine muscle.
Fuck!
