While he shops.
Always from a distance.
Like she’s casing him too.
Is he connected to the Walters case?
Or her lover Orion?
“What do you want, Juliet?”
When she comes out an hour later, she looks different.
Hair’s mussed.
Lips redder. Like she’s been kissed.
Or like she kissed something.
She keeps glancing back, eyes sharp as hell.
I have to force myself not to slouch lower in my seat, like I’m some rookie tailing a mark for the first time.
Her, Volkov, Orion, a whole damn clusterfuck of broken, pretty people orbiting murder and obsession.
I wonder what she tastes like.
What her laugh sounds like when she’s not on the prowl.
What she’d do if she knew I was watching.
Bet she’d make a show of it.
Lift her skirt.
Flash me those thighs.
Dare me to come take a bite.
She moves down the street like she knows she’s being watched.
She probably likes it.
Hell, I like it.
It scratches something primal in me.
My cock is halfway hard and I haven’t even seen her face up close.
I scribble some bullshit in my notebook about surveillance and then draw a heart next to her description.
She slides into her car and disappears into traffic.
I follow.
Vitaly can wait.
She’s the real case I want to solve.
