To Love and Die (18+)

Chapter Twelve

Her dress was impossibly too sexy for a fundraiser gala. In her opinion, Julian picked it out for his own eyes and a group full of politicians would probably think of her as he had when he first met her, a hooker. Yet, she felt like a classy one in the black backless floor-length gown. It was very expensive, she could tell. It wasn't made of that horrible rayon material that her dresses usually were. Instead, it was lined with silk, and covered in the softest of cotton fabric that she had ever put on her body.

The gown screamed opulence and when her black hair fell in sleek beach waves down her back, she sensed that she looked the part of a rich club owner's date. Tonight she would act as well, but really she could get used to being draped by expensive textiles while personal make-up artists and hairstylists pampered her like a celebrity.

They even had gone out of their way to adorn her with beautiful round cut diamonds in the length of a platinum chain around her neck. She had never worn anything so fancy in her life.

She was standing in front of the mirror admiring the work of the women Julian hired when he appeared behind her.

He had them fronted up in a one king bed beach view suite of the Ritz-Carlton in South Beach, otherwise, his intrusion would have been met with some complaints. He told her that all the double beds were booked, but she had assured him that if he wanted her in his bed, he didn't have to resort to such desperate tactics.

"You look like you belong on the front of someone's magazine", he said walking until his front met her back and the only thing in the mirror was a view of the two of them matching. She couldn't hide the blush that made its way to her face, but she grateful for melanin because she knew Julian didn't catch it.

"You don't look too bad yourself." Which was God's honest truth.

Another opinion, Valentino could custom make a hundred suits for Julian, all in different styles, and they still wouldn't fit him the way this black one did. It was perfect for him. The black undershirt really helped hammer away at the dangerous drug lord look that she figured he wasn't going for, but it was still sexy nonetheless.

"Thank you. Are you ready to head to the gala? I heard they have a live band playing for the first half."

The casual way he let his hands come to her neck, tracing the fine jewelry before they ventured down her cleavage was unsettling and enticing. His fingers were spontaneous and yet, it felt so natural to have them on her skin. She let him touch her as she fell into his body. Her head rested on his chest as she watched their reflection in the mirror. His hand made its way to the valley between her breast grazing them like fine silk.

"Yes we should go", she breathily let out when Julian's hand retraced to her neck and his fingers began to secure a nice spot around it like he was choking her.

This time wasn't like in her apartment. It was delicate and longing and she wanted more out of it. The fact that he could literally crush her beneath his fingers was unnerving but it thrilled her to think of it.

Get it together you fucking masochist.

At the very least, she came here on a job and no matter how irresistible her suitor was, she wouldn't blur that line. Not before the mission.

Once Julian stepped aside, Meli all but sprinted to throw on the heels he had picked out for her. They were conservative, thank heavens because had they been too fancy, they would have taken away from the beautiful dress.

"Here", Julian said handing over a nice sleek Desert Eagle. There was a tactical holster that Julian wanted her to put on her left leg, the side without the slit, and she didn't refuse hoping that a weapon would follow.