Now that I've locked onto her, I already know what comes next. The kind of torture I don't normally try to chase after.
Watching her sweetly squeeze one of her male customers' shoulders while speaking to him, I'm left with this jealousy that curls around deep in my chest. Didn't even know I could getjealous until I met the beauty last year when I became a part of this charter.
That's how I knew she was something special. She brought things out of me that were outright terrifying because of how unknown they were.
Even now, she's doing it. Making me act some part to help her out. While I don't mind giving her a reason to smile, it's the ugly parts trying to surface that make me wonder if this is a good idea.
The parts that ignite my anger are the ones that make me want to grab whoever's throat is causing her discomfort. The same impulse that drives me to press her against something so I can make it clear to that person that she's not available—that she'smine.
That thought easily follows up with my imagination filling with playing out how easily it would be to hike up that dress of hers and touch her in a way that makes it impossible for her to give any of her attention to these assholes.
I think I liked it more when all I cared about was gambling. Less complicated and less frustrating.
Sighing under my breath, I run a hand down my face and try to shake the thoughts out of my head. As if they can just fall out that easily, they only worsen the longer I watch her play every customer like a fiddle.
Every poor bastard falls for that smile. How many of them have I watched eat out of the palm of her hand before paying even more by giving her gracious tips? That's why she's doing it. Not because she wants any of them, but because she likes what they give her.
I'm just as much of a sucker as these fools. All she had to do was look up at me with those big, wide eyes, and now I'm playing this role for her.
What's she getting out of picking me to do this? Fuck. I can't even grasp the concept to start to understand.
But still, she picked me first. She wanted me to help solve this rough patch in her life. Hard not to feel special about the whole ordeal.
Need to keep moving. Need to keep searching. Otherwise, this beauty is going to drive me insane.
Instead of my day ending with my wallet heavy, it wraps up as soon as Bunny's grabbing my hand and guiding me toward the back of the casino.
She wants me to keep watch while she gets changed. While keeping me informed, she has me wondering if she'll ask for assistance in removing that corset of hers. It does look quite complicated with all its loops. Yet, there's only one knot, and it's the one that drags up as a bow right below her breasts.
Turns out, she doesn't need help. The thought must not even cross her mind, despite filling mine.
It takes her a few minutes to get changed, but when she steps out wearing jeans and a shirt that hugs her just right, I can't tell which side of her is more pulling. The temptress, or the cozy woman who looks like she'd easily be swallowed up by my cut if I offered it up to her.
Fuck, I didn't even think about that. All I have to do is picture it once, and I'm already moving.
She flushes a little when I'm shrugging it off. Beneath, I'm left in my shirt. It's just a worn-out cotton tank top, but she's looking at me like I'm not wearing anything at all.
Instead of hesitating to grab my offering, she's immediately wrapping her body in my leather before shaking her head. "Just when I thought you couldn't get hotter..."
By now, I should be used to her teasing, flirtatious words. Hell, she says exactly what she needs to in order to get the response she wants. Yet, when my skin flushes beneath her compliment, she doesn't giggle in amusement. She's too busy drinking in the tattoos on my skin. Is she being serious, then? A goddess like her thinkingI'manywhere near her level?
I've got scars where the fabric is covering. She's only seeing the good parts. If she were to see what's beneath, she wouldn't be complimenting me. Rather, I think she'd be more scared. Most people with a little sense know best to avoid men in my shoes.
"We should go." Forcing the words out, I offer up my arm and hold back a groan when she immediately wraps her limb around mine. This isn't as good as a hug, but it's still an excuse to feel how soft she is.
Offering her a ride home is something I'm going to do for now. Every shift, she walks to the bus station and hangs around. Anything could happen to her, and without hesitation, the offer of taking my bike was an obvious yes to her.
The idea of getting her on my bike was such a good one that it plagued my mind every second after it crossed it.
When did I become so impulsive? Bunny didn't even question why I already knew how she got home; she only melted at my offer.
"You're not going to get cold or anything without this, are you?" She continues on like everything is normal as we walk through the casino.
Now that I've seen her in my cut, I'm going to be burning hot for a long while. She's got nothing to worry about.
"No." Nodding at a few of the other familiar workers, I try to distract myself by searching if any of them are giving any outof place reactions. Hard to pay attention when Bunny decides now's the time to slide her hand into mine. She squeezes my fingers and gives me a smile that doesn't look tight at the corners.
Feels like a smile just for me.