Page 5 of Bodyguard Wolf's Fated Mate
I cheerfully navigated around oncoming traffic to greet her at the door when I opened it. Anybody else would think I was a driver. That was exactly what I wanted them to think until it was too late.
The black leather skirt hugged her hips and barely covered her unmentionables. The slight slit on the side revealed more than her father would be comfortable with. The boutique had mannequins stationed at the window in different provocative poses to attract the attention of a certain clientele.
The white plunging material of her shirt exposed a fair amount of her cleavage. It was highly restrictive, and she wasn't wearing a bra. Her nipples pressed against the material when she was aroused.
There were only a couple of hours before the full moon. We still had time to get back home where I could monitor her condition. It wasn't like she tried to hide, but she didn't know enough to pull back on the reins of the wolf.
Drugs were the last thing she should be pumping into her veins. The wolf would derive a certain pleasure from the chemical dosage. It could easily use the effects to take control of her until she didn't know whether she was dreaming or not.
I followed from behind quite alarmed by the steady pressure between my legs. The head on my shoulders was nothing compared to the overheated dilemma the other head between my legs faced. It wanted out in the worst way possible, and I had to constantly slap some sense back into the wolf at the risk of putting everybody in danger.
The ding over the door announced her entry into the boutique. "I don't have a lot of time. Show me the latest trends. Let's not dawdle. We don't have all day. Somebody bring me a bottle of water. It better not be a domestic brand," she ordered with a snap of her fingers.
Nobody saw me standing at the door with my hands in front of me. It was the perfect position to go for my gun in case of any trouble. She became a whirlwind with the clerks following her around with dollar signs in their eyes.
There was no point in using my enhanced hearing when I had no interest in what were the latest trends. They were having a conversation that was completely over my head. It didn't make any sense to covet wearing the latest creation by Gucci or Calvin Klein.
My sense of style came from what looked good on me despite the price tags.
She gave me a passing glance over her shoulder before going into the dressing room. They waited patiently while handing her different items of clothing to try on. Nobody was manning the shop at the front desk.
I lifted one price tag next to me with a careful exam of the soft material with my fingers. It had to be chiffon or silk. There was something sensual about touching the fabric. A sudden flash of her wearing the green silk garment came over me before I had a chance to push it away.
She stood in front of me without moving a single inch. The slight tremble when she felt the material rip to expose her naked body to my hungry eyes was an aphrodisiac. Those of my kind could sense my unfettered desire.
I swallowed hard with a lump in my throat. It didn't matter where she came from. This was a girl in her element tossing money around like it was confetti. She had no problem telling people what to do. There wasn't even an inkling she might be stepping over some sort of invisible line in the sand.
The woman entering the shop wearing over-sized sunglasses and a scarf around her head wasn't exactly subtle. She might as well have been wearing a neon sign over her head.
I saw through her disguise and knew exactly what the point was of coming out at this late hour. Jasmine made me believe shopping was her only goal.
I grabbed the girl with one hand on her wrist and the other over her mouth before drawing her into a darkened alcove within the boutique behind a display of scandalous lingerie.
I frisked her with one hand until I easily found the small plastic packet of drugs in her possession. Cocaine was deadly. It could make you feel any number of things depending on the circumstances. It would amplify sounds and tastes. It was possible to hallucinate after taking a large amount.
Jasmine wanted to lose herself in the drug.
"This isn't going to happen on my watch. Take this bag and leave. Don't ever come back again. This is a card. You can take it or leave it. A friend will meet you at the door. It's an exclusive rehabilitation center. You will be clean in three days. I don't know your story, and I really have no interest in learning it. This is a lifeline. Take it before you drown." I offered the card, but she looked right through me.
"You can't stop me from seeing her."
"I beg to differ. You won't get any more than a couple of feet away from her before I intervene. Take the card. I'm being far more magnanimous than I have to be. This is your one chance. Don't blow it." I wagged the card under her nose.
I had been in town for almost six months getting a lay of the land. Drugs were peddled on every street corner. It was a real pandemic. Nobody had any solutions other than one experimental treatment center. The owner was a previous addict and had come up with a unique system to become clean and sober with no need to fall off the wagon.
"I don't need your charity. This is a free country. Nobody is going to censor me." She opened her mouth to scream, but I saw it coming moments before it was about to happen.
Two fingers pressed against her throat to silence the words coming out of her mouth. Her mouth was moving but nothing came out.
"Get out of here. Don't make me ask you again. Your voice will come back in about an hour. Maybe that will give you enough time to think about your decisions. You have some influence on her, but you are using it in the wrong way. She's not your friend. You have become her dealer. You gave her a taste and now she wants more. The worst thing you can do is feed her habit." I showed her to the door and gave her less than a subtle nudge to the sidewalk.
She stumbled and lost one of her heels. The crack was heard around the world. She cursed me without even knowing my name. She was strung out on something stronger than cocaine which was coming out of every pore of her body.
Caitlin gave me the finger. She used one hand to flag down a taxi with Hispanic music coming out of the windows. The man behind the wheel wore dreadlocks. It wasn't the scent of potpourri I detected. He must've been waiting around the block for her signal.
A cloud of exhaust followed in the wake of their driving around the block and out of sight. It didn't mean she wouldn't find another way to get her fix. They were enabling each other. That didn't make for a lasting friendship.
It wasn't any of my business, but I couldn't afford her habit to get out of hand. That would defeat the purpose of the wolf community staying in the shadows.
