Page 14 of Moros

It wasn’t like I could control them.

I had his body against mine, my arms around him as the vibration rubbed him against me until my nipples were hard.

I woke myself to use the bathroom, get a drink of water then spent the rest of the night, staring up at the ceiling, wondering if I could attract a man like Khadri.

You’re an idiot, Ryanne.

I realized then I didn’t have a middle name.

My parents hadn’t given me one—they stayed alive long enough to have me, stress about my status when I was born. Once I was breathing, my mother was discharged, leaving me behind to get my vitals up.

My parents never returned, and I was labeled a jinx.

You’re in one piece, Shorty.

I trembled and rolled over to see the time.

It was barely after five and I didn’t have to meet with Khadri for another few hours. Trying to fall asleep again didn’t work. I was no worried about what he could have found, and I spent anther hour freaking out about that.

Eventually, I climbed out of bed, dressed and wandered to the small Asian plaza not far from my place. I roamed the small shops until I found a bottle of perfume. It wasn’t a designer name, but I found I loved the smell of cherry blossoms.

Spritzing some from the tester on my wrists, I rubbed my wrists together then sniffed.

I then waved my arms away from my face and sniffed again.

I didn’t try any other—this one was cheap enough and would do—I just couldn’t get my morning coffee out for the next few days to make up the shortage in my budget.

I paid for it, and proudly walked out of the store, the small black bag hanging off my left wrist. In order to be on time, I rushed home, showered quickly then took great care in getting dressed. I swapped out my tattered work purse for one I kept for special occasions—I didn’t use it much.

It was a deep red, with silver fittings.

Dressed in a pair of blue jeans, a black shirt with a V neck, I slipped my feet into a simple pair of flats, and used a little of my gel to ensure my hair was presentable.

I took the bus to the bar and found the lot was empty. Still, I approached the front door and thankfully there was a doorbell.

When someone answered, it wasn’t Khadri, but I did recognize the man as Boswell Teller. He was more breath-taking in real life.

I offered him a small smile.

“Hi—I know you’re closed but Khadri is expecting me.”

“Ms. Larwick—please, come in.” He offered me a slight bow of his head.

Glancing over my shoulder, I hesitated.

“Wait here.” He told me and disappeared up a set of steps.

A few seconds later, Khadri stuck his head out and motioned for me to come up.

Clutching my purse to my side, I walked up the steps, gripping the rail just in case my knees gave out. As I stood in front of him, he tilted his head.

“Boss isn’t dangerous.” Khadri told me. “Well, at least not to the good guys, anyway.”

I chuckled. “Sorry—I’m not used to being alone with?—”

“I understand. Have you eaten?”

He led me through the silent bar, but I was barely paying attention to what he was saying. Even though the bar was close enough to my place, I’d never been.

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