Relinquish(47)

“Black.” Landon blurts, looking down at the floor.

“I beg your pardon?” Gabe questions, his voice taking a tone of surprise.

“Get a black dress.” Landon looks up at Gabe and shrugs. “Every woman should have a little black dress, isn’t that how the saying goes?” Landon hesitates, as if he didn’t mean to add his input.

“Uh, yeah. I will. I’ll find a black dress.” Gabe sounds almost confused, shocked that Landon offered any input on clothes.

Landon gives a firm nod before heading toward the stairs. I flinch and hide behind a pillar next to the banister, hoping he doesn’t see me. After the front door closes, I risk a look and find Landon and Gabe gone. Landon must have gone to his office.

I let out a heavy breath and scamper off toward the bathroom, not entirely sure what I just witnessed. Is Landon treating me like crap because I’m his escort? He’s trying to make me hate him, make it easier for him to walk away. Am I happy that it’s not personal, or angry he’s trying so hard?





FOURTEEN


CHARLIE


“Which one do you like better, Charlie? Black or red?” Gabe asks, holding up the two dresses. I take my gaze from the mirror, looking over the makeup Michelle just finished, to glance at the dresses.

My mouth hangs open when I see the black one. I stand from the chair and caress the material between my fingertips. The fabric is soft and new, no wear, stains or tears. It’ll cup my shoulders perfectly, and it looks like the sleeves go to my elbows. It has a large V-neck that will reach well below my breasts, making me swallow hard. My eyes follow the material down, knowing it will rest on my ankles or lower.

“Landon himself asked for this color,” Gabe announces, tossing the red toward the chair. I don’t even know what the red dress looks like, and I don’t care, either.

“He did?” Michelle questions, shocked.

“This one,” I whisper, taking the black dress from its hanger.

“Here, take these, too.” Gabe hands me a black thong and some black, strappy heels. I look at the heels, which are beautiful and weren’t stolen. My eyes fill with tears at the things in my hands. I’ve never had something so nice before, and by the looks of these, so expensive.

“Are you okay, hun?” Gabe mutters, rubbing my back for comfort. I nod, smile, and drop my robe to try them on.

After I dress and pull my hair from my neck, I turn to look in the mirror.

My eyes widen as I take in a sudden breath. I look… stunning. My hair is curly, shiny, and smells of strawberries. My makeup is subtle, with some light blush, lip gloss and smoky eye shadow. The dress is snug, showing my curves to perfection. I don’t look like a Barbie. I look like Barbie’s hot vixen cousin.

I look over at Michelle and Gabe, giving each other high-fives.

“I’ll find Landon for my next instructions,” I state, leaving them behind in a giggling mess.

I head down the stairs, my hand trailing along the banister before turning toward Landon’s office. My heart is beating a mile a minute, and my breathing comes in short spurts. I know I look good, and the bad girl in me wants to show it off, but my mind reminds me how Landon is a monster. He’s made me his puppet, and he’s the puppet master. I’m nothing but a figure to him in his pocket book. Just standing here outside his door, I can feel his strong energy from the other side, his smell making me second-guess whether or not he is a bad guy.

I don’t even knock, just open the door and enter.

“What is it?” Landon questions, his head tilted down as he scribbles across something on his desk. I don’t respond, just cat-walk to his desk and stand there, waiting for my next order. Landon huffs and glances up, doing a double-take. His eyes go wide and his mouth parts.

“Charlie,” he rasps.

“I’m…” I trail off, taken aback by his look of raw hunger. “I’m here for my next assignment,” I manage to spit out.

Landon pushes from his desk and stalks toward me, his eyes on fire and devouring every inch of my body.

“That dress, it’s perfect,” he groans, looking me up and down shamelessly. My body heats, heart pounding dangerously as my stomach knots and panties dampen.

“Well, you know, every woman needs a little black dress,” I remark nervously, looking at him from the corner of my eye.

He smirks knowingly. “That they do.”

He steps behind me, his large hands resting on my shoulders, and my senses are consumed by the smell of him. He smells like fresh air and spice, causing me to close my eyes and inhale deeply. He brushes his nose up the side of my neck, the feeling of him touching me so intimate it smothers any morsel of resentment I have. I want to be mad, be a pain in the ass, but I’m sick. I’m f*cked-up and just want to feel something, feel someone and not be isolated with the inevitable loneliness. If I’ve learned anything over the last few weeks, it’s that only Landon has seemed to stifle that ache in my chest.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I question, my words muffled from arousal. He doesn’t respond, just caresses his lips along the sensitive skin of my neck seductively, causing my head to loll to the side. A rush of desire races through my chest, and my breathing picks up.

“We can’t, remember? You’re my pimp, and I’m you’re escort. Rules,” I whimper, reminding him of his words from last night.