SHUT DOWN | JENLISA

52

Lisa

They say women can hold grudges better than anyone. That their memory is strong to only remember the bad ones and forget all the good and joyful ones. I didn't believe this until an entire week passed when I hadn't heard from Jennie, nor had I seen her around the clubs that I frequented in an attempt to see her.

I don't know if she was out of town or if she had forgotten about me and moved on. I couldn't re-establish a new connection, especially when the one I had already created was going well. I needed to clear my mind. To look at things from a different perspective. I needed to breathe and force my mind to stray away from the devil woman who occupies my mind and soul.

If I didn't see her today at her club, then I knew what I would do. The nice and polite Lisa would vanish and replace the brutal and determined detective. I'd reinstate back on the force, and I'd join forces with Blake and hope that a lead would bring me back to her.

I needed revenge, and I needed justice. Two sides of the same coin. One more violent and bloody than the other, but I don't think I'd choose the latter when I got my hands on her. Jennie didn't care for anyone but herself, and the greedy woman needed to be shut down for good.

I was being petty, and it was disgusting, honest it was, but the rational part of me that compartmentalised between work and personal life was decimated. After taking a tense shower with a raging hard-on for a hand-cuffing woman with a beguiling laugh, I got dressed and headed out to her hotel bar, where we first met.

I don't know if it was coincidental or if she knew where I was going to be, but she was at the bar sitting alone with a drink in her hand. I took a moment just so I could appreciate her effortless beauty. Only a moron wouldn't stop and stare at the celestial beauty of this woman. Jennie Kim had this effect on me. It was staggering, triggering, and infuriating.

Her dark hair was styled and slicked back in a tight bun without a single strand out of place. Since her hair wasn't let down, it showcased the dress she was wearing. A backless black dress that flaunted the sexy tattoo she had that I'd yet to lick and trace.

The dress itself was short, barely covering her thighs, and as revealing as it was, it was long-sleeved and didn't reveal much of her chest and breasts. It was the sexiest dress I'd ever seen on a woman, and I knew it was mainly because it was the woman and not the dress.

Tall and dark heels took place on her feet with laces that bound around her ankles. Her coat was placed next to her, along with her purse and phone. The moment she cocked her head to the side and smiled at me, I was a fucking goner. I'd bark if she told me to, and that was the fucking truth.

Honest to God.