Devour You

14

Victoria

Susina booties.

As the sun is setting, my tan three inch heels hit the ground within each step I take, as the gangster and I reach the entrance of East Wayward Inn.

But before the cool breeze of the inside slams against my skin, the new Summer weather bestows on my clothed back - before Rio pushes open the grand hotel doors and we enter.

He takes lead. I can't catch sight of his gun that he vestures in the rem of his slightly low hanging jeans - for his shirt hovers to overlap the handle of the weapon.
As for my golden gun, too, hides in between my lower back and my skinny jeans.

The familiar adrenaline still surges through me from head to toe, as we head across the reflecting marbled floor to get to the reception desk. In the lobby, the gangster smoothly takes his final step to reach the receptionist seated - and each of their perceptive irises meet.

I stand firm behind Rio, ears open.

"How are you?" Rio begins lowly; my surprised and disbelieving eyes peer over to him afterward. While my brow is perched at his friendly start, I watch him steadily, before I note the slim receptionist man smile - his braces revealing between his now parted lips when I face him.

"Good, getting a room?" The receptionist questions cheerly.

"Mhm, the two of us." The gangster returns lowly within a mutter, pulling out his wallet. I watch Rio momentarily, but as I do I notice him flicking through some fifties - even numerous hundred dollar bills.

I roll my brown irises, plunging a hand into my jean pocket to pull out my own cash, that is, before I hear the gangster clear his throat exasperatingly.

"No ma'am." He says huskily, flicking out the right amount of cash for the both of us instead, reaching his hand out toward the receptionist that's watching either of us.

I curl my lip, sucking in a soon defeated breath; there's no use - I shove the cash back into my pocket. As I do, my gaze trails elsewhere, only to land on a familiar set of eyes.

Rio's best boy, Chris, stands up against a wall with his muscular arms folded across his chest; his glimmering dark eyes glinting with solemness from across the lobby.

Chris Attwood sends a half and firm nod, meeting my gaze. I allow for a soft swallow to occur, in preparation, and return a nod in his direction.

In front of him, I recognize a face of a man that walks pass him, but I can't quite latch onto where exactly I know him from. Chris doesn't avert his steady gaze from my own, nor does he pay visible attention to the buff man passing him.

Until a silent moment passes - a moment that seems to pass at a slow tempo - when Chris's observant irises meet the guy's. I notice the two men share an unreadable glance, and I then know that the man passing is also one of Rio's boys, and that I've must have seen him a time I've been inside the gangster's  old place.

When I revert my attention ahead, and face the reception desk, the gangster is no longer in place. The slim receptionist who vestures a bright yellow bow tie beams a smile at me, as I stand before him.

Suddenly, the sound of a throat being cleared alerts me, and I spin on my Susina booties to lock onto the dark eyes of the gangster - who stands a good distance away in the center of the grand lobby.

My pink lips twitch - as the sight of his own full lips part.

"You comin' or what?" He questions, before licking his lips briefly. I run a calm hand through my loose brown hair, before following after him to get to our hotel room.

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