Undercover Badge 2; Girl With A gun (Badass with a badge ) UNDER CONSTRUCTION

***CHAPTER 3***

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Recap;

I scanned the room from where it lay, my hand sneaking beneath my pillow to draw my black gun. My weapon. I threw back the covers, arching up, landing on my feet. The cold air rush against my barely clothed body sent my flesh into a state of hyper awareness. I felt the breath slowly everybody in a soothing rush as I held the gun down, away from myself. Silvery moonlight dripped in through the window, only creating a few patches of light. The rest of the space was covered in darkness.

"There's no need for the gun." the voice seemed to roll through the darkness, and across my skin, a sweet caress. It didn't affect my headache. The voice was not the female soprano or alto. The voice wasn't even the tone of a normal male voice. It was a seductive, sexy Baritone that reverberated in my chest cavity. My hands immediately loosened on the gun, and I put it on my bedside table. I felt my heartbeat stagger as I took a deep breath, facing the room then, in the most vulnerable voice I'd used in years, I whispered the question.

"James?"

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CHAPTER 3

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I waited... And waited.

Finally, a low, strained chuckle feathered across my skin, making it flash in goose bumps.

Movement by the window, where I suddenly saw a figure immerge in the moon light. The straining silver light cast his face into shadows, and icy pale skin. I couldn't see his eyes, but I could see the slight quirk in his lips. He was taller, and his muscles were far more substantial. I was never a woman weak in the presence of a man, nor did I swoon simply because a man was well built. I could usually hide my feelings, and they weren't usually affected by hormones. But it was as if James's mere presence was an addictive shot to my bloodstream, making me crave more. James oozed pheromones, something I'd never before had a problem with. Perhaps it was knowing that I wanted him so badly, and would have gladly have let him take me, as much as his heart desired. Perhaps it was the fact that we were older. Perhaps it was the fact that I'd secretly been pining for him for the last five years. Perhaps it was my clothing (Or lack thereof).

All I know is that in that moment, I was weak, like putty in his hands. And he could do what he wanted to me, and I'd love it.

I saw him. His movements. He slowly stalked toward me. And, as soon as he cleared the moonlight, I only saw a black silhouette. I could feel him. Barely a foot away. Felt the air move, and his fingers touched my cheek... he touched me.

I sighed out, a deep exhale.

Suddenly, he jerked back, and his fingers disappeared. "What the hell am I doing?" he growled before turning and running to my window. "James..." I breathed, reaching out my hand, but it was too late.

He was gone.

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Two days later

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There was a bathtub in my bathroom. Large, porcelain and white with golden foot pieces. Old style and intricate. And at that moment, it was filled with water near boiling point. No bubble bath, no soap, no salts or oils. Clear water.

I stood naked before it, my hair barely feathering my back. I couldn't think. My mind had been muddled the past few days, and I needed to clear it.

I took a deep breath, and raised my right foot, gently dipping my toes into the water. My muscles recoiled with a slight flinch at the heat, but I persisted. My flesh stung from it, a slight prickling that was fading into numbness. I raised onto my right leg, and pulled in my left, sinking my body into the tub with a slight wince.