Page 37 of Burn for Me

“Keep telling yourself that, Darlin’, but the ring on your finger says differently.” He smiles so wide it reveals his canines. I'm flabbergasted, trying to recall any moment I might have witnessed him smile like that, but I come up blank. It's as gorgeous as it is dangerous. He looks me over and pulls away as if nothing ever happened, so I huff and rush towards the bathroom before my body has the chance to overheat.

“Put on a black polo and slacks. Tuck in your dog tags if you plan on keeping them on, and wear a watch or something to pull it together.” I slam the door behind my words.

“Yes, ma'am.” He calls out through the barrier, and I grin.

This won't betoobad.

Fourteen

8-31-2024

Think.

-Sam

I run my thumb over the leather stitching on the steering wheel, finding it nearly impossible to keep my hands to myself as Jasmine sits prim and proper in the passenger seat. Her hair cascades over her shoulders, and her black dress hugs her curves in all the right places, ending right above her knees. Despite how her uniform often appears out of place, I’ve always known shewas put together, but seeing it in this setting has me close to chewing a hole through my cheek.

I’ve learned to function on little sleep, so staying up all day to watch her wasn’t difficult. I checked all the cameras at base and compiled a list of the hotel guests' whereabouts and schedules. I even organized the clothes in our closet and drawers and put away all her things just to keep my mind focused on the mission.

I pull behind another car on the crowded street in front of a large brick building. We’ve been stuck in traffic for what feels like hours, so I’m sure she’s eager to get out of that seat; I can almost hear her skin unstick from the leather every time she shifts her thighs.God, those fucking thighs.I look down at her legs before quickly looking away again.

“This is a double date, by the way,” I say.

“Why?” she replies, her voice filled with more shock than I expected.

“Because it’ll make us look more natural for the first night. Supposedly, this is the number one restaurant for high society members.”

I try not to focus on the fact that I haven’t prepared her for today—she had me distracted, so it’s not exactly my fault—and I hand her an earpiece.

She unintentionally digs the bottom of her heel into the floorboard again as she takes the device and slips it under her hair into her ear without glancing at me. I force my jaw to relax so I can ask again if there’s something I need to know. Just then, a man in an oddly fitting suit knocks on the window.

“He’s the valet,” Jasmine whispers, sensing my confusion and frustration.

“He parks the cars,” she explains while reaching into the backseat to grab her small purse. I quickly catch the hem of her dress to stop it from riding up too far, and I can’t help but chuckle when I feel what's under the fabric.

“Little devil,” I drawl, “do you have a knife garter on your thigh?”

Her cheeks turn a beautiful shade of red, and she plops back into her seat, adjusting the fabric in place.

"I wanted to be prepared," she murmurs, just as another man opens her door. Taking a deep breath, I loosen my grip on the steering wheel and allow the valet to take my place. My steps are anything but calm as I follow closely behind her until I reach my spot by her side. I should concentrate on gathering information while we're here, but all I can think about is the unsettling idea of someone trying to touch her.After all, who wouldn't?She looks fucking amazing and smells so damn good.

We enter the building, where the dim lighting casts an intimate glow. It highlights the questionable artwork on the walls and the people dressed in lavish clothing scattered across different tables and booths, each adorned with small candles in the middle. My attention is drawn to a group gathered near the bar. The men stand upright, sipping their drinks, while women huddle at the bar, enjoying clear liquids from martini glasses. Due to my research today, I can identify most of the men and their roles in this situation. However, there are still a few missing.

I place my hand on the small of Jasmine's back, but it doesn't rest firmly as usual. Instead, it feels as if my fingers are bouncing against her spine. I glance down at her and notice the pink creeping into her cheeks. It’s as if she can't catch her breath, yet she won't look at me.

I try to locate what has captured her attention, but a waiter steps up and blocks my view of a group moving behind a red curtain.

“Table for four, right this way.” the boy hums as he leads us. I gently nudge Jasmine with my palm and scan the tables, observing the guests' interactions.

Once she settles into the back of the booth, Jasmine begins to gulp down a glass of water. I slide in next to her, but her knee shakes under the table, distracting me from my observations. I'm not great at offering comfort—I never have been—so I rest my hand on her thigh and apply gentle pressure, hoping to calm her down.

"Breathe, darlin'. It's only dinner. Like breakfast on the boat—just you and me." I murmur as I bury my nose in her hair to keep my words private. A sense of satisfaction warms my skin as she leans into the gesture.

She winces, and my eye twitches as static crackles through the earpieces. A loud pitch whine follows, interrupting the moment.

“Is this thing working?”

“Easy there, little siren. You’ll make them go deaf like that.”

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