Page 34 of Rugger: The Huntress

Third time’s the charm.

The familiar logic registered with me for once. The first time I’d laid eyes on her chocolate-coated skin was the second the door of her Lexus swung open. It wasn’t my dick that hardened.

It was my heart that softened. And, for that reason, I couldn’t step out of the car when she beckoned for me with her silence and folded arms after her door pushed up against mine.

It wasn’t the scratch in my paint I was concerned with. It was the impression she’d made on me without uttering a word. Covered in black, she was stunning standing out in the cold on unsteady limbs.

Impatient.

Determined.

Preoccupied.

They didn’t make them like her anymore. Melanin was infused in her skin at such a high dosage that you could barely tell where her clothes ended and began. The natural shine of her cheeks and forehead made her entire face glow. Intrigued, I watched her as she stared at the tint of my car.

When she waltzed in the other direction, the beating of my heart resumed. Whatever power she possessed, I quickly understood that it was smarter if I evaded it while I had the chance. However, it was proven to be nearly impossible.

She was magnetic. Her aura was damning. Her presence was commanding. She was blessed with something far beyond my comprehension. But, my ignorance was blissful. The knowledge I didn’t have, I craved.

Remaining studious in life was the key to survival. The ability to digest new, helpful information had kept me above ground. Tonight would confirm the theory of mine for the umpteenth time, because it seemed as though the unrhythmic beating of my heart was directly linked to those long legs, chiseled cheekbones, and never-ending ponytail.

Slope. I’d allowed the second opportunity to pass us by. Her heels were backpedaling out of the door as quickly as she’d come in. I’d just stepped foot inside the bar. One blink of mine and she was gone.

Bar Balgariapromised me a life-altering encounter. Another chance. Another moment. Against every fucking rule in my book, I accepted the offer.

I gnawed on the inside of my bottom lip – unfamiliar feelings pooling around me.

“What can I get for you?” The bartender asked.

Immediately, splattered blood sheeted my eyes. Amongst the unfamiliar feelings, jealousy sprouted its ugly head.

Settle down.

Losing his life because he was simply doing what the higher ups paid him for would be a cruel way to die, but speaking to the woman who was beckoning my heart from my chest justified the possibility.

Slowly, she whipped her head in his direction. Every fucking thing around us halted. Time, for me, didn’t progress. Nothing did. Everything stilled.

Fuck.

She was uncomfortably close. Yet, there was contentment intertwined in the uneasiness. She reeked of wealth, class, and beauty. Simply from watching her, I understood she was a bank of knowledge.

The fragrance she wore agreed with every thought I conjured. She was no average woman. She was regal. She was royal. She was rare.

“Uh– yes.Dirtymartini.”

I hardened in the darkness underneath the bar. The notable base of her voice was intoxicating. Sex oozed from her lips as she spoke.

Escort. Possible occupations began running through my head.

Sex worker.

Dancer.

Sugar baby.

There was nothing revealing that either of those operations were part of her everyday world, but the seduction she produced so effortlessly made the thoughts worthwhile. It almost feltpointless if she wasn’t familiar with at least one. She was that damn commanding.

She had long ago emphasized the first word of her response, furthering my assumptions. Before I had time to recover from the first dose of her, she had the needle to my arm and was injecting another one straight into my veins.

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