Page 5 of The Rent Just Went Up
She might just be the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. Actually scratch that—she is. And she’s not even dressed up either. She looks perfectly normal—a pair of fashionable jeans with a light yellow blouse, a cute little gold necklace, and what looks to be a normal makeup job. Her hair is either naturally wavy or she’s done a little something to it. Either way, I like it and have been feeling my pants tighten since the moment I laid eyes on her.
Her hand feels like it’s ready to burn up in mine. It’s soft as silk, tender and tiny, delicate like a treasure. I don’t want to let go of it, but I know that if I keep holding on for much longer, the probability of me coming across like a creep are going to skyrocket, so I’m hoping she’ll hurry up and give me an answer to my question. But she just keeps looking at me, starry-eyed, as though I’ve asked her what her opinion on String Theory is.
Luckily, her friend behind her (whose name I’m not sure of), pokes her in the back and shakes her from her stupor.
“Yes, of course!” she blurts out.
I smile and release her. “What would you like?” I ask.
This seems to cause her some distress, and she glances over at Jared then back to me.
“You know, I’m not a huge drinker…I…”
“No?” I ask. “Hey, you’re not like sixteen, are you?”
“No!” she snaps quickly. “I’m”—she leans in—“I’m eighteen, thank you very much.”
My cock stiffens. I smirk and whisper back, “Still shouldn’t be in here.”
“We know Jared.”
“Ah.” I nod. Then an idea hits me, and I reach out and take her hand again. The softness, the tenderness, the sensation of holding a treasure hits me all at once, and I’m smitten.
“Sorry, everyone,” I sayjustloud enough so the surrounding crowd can hear me. “But this girl isn’t old enough to be in here.”
“What are you doing!?” Erika hisses.
“My name’s Lieutenant Malcom Smitherson. I’m working undercover tonight,” I continue as I pull her away from the bar. “I’m going to have to escort her down to the station. Please nobody make a scene!”
I look back at Jared and see him holding back a smile, but to my surprise, I can see her friend (whatever her name is), doing the same thing as Erika looks back to her in a panic.
“Sarah!” she calls back.
Ah, so that’s her name.
“Hey, don’t look at me!” Sarah calls back.
I’m getting this girl out of herenow. This hot and eighteen years old? Unbelievable. She’s been screwing around with high school boys who don’t know how to treat her—who cheat on her like a guy who owns a Ferrari and drives it through the mud and never washes it.
Erika needs arealman to treat her like she’s supposed to be treated, and that’s me. She’s not just a beautiful body, either. She’s full of spunk. I noticed that the minute she started to speak to me. I love that in a woman. I guess I’m like my father in that way.
I shoulder the door open into the night and brush past Cameron, the bouncer, who’s having a smoke. “Have a good one, Cam.”
“You too, Mal.”
I hang a right toward where I parked my car and feel Erika tugging against my grip on her.
“Lieutenant Malcom Smitherson? Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Why?” I ask, pulling her up the block. “Don’t girls like police officers?”
There’s a pause, and I can practically hear the gears whirring inside her skull before she speaks again. “Youhaveto be fucking with me.”
We’ve reached my silver Maserati, so I stop with my back to it and use the remote to unlock it. The lights illuminate her beauty. If there was any doubt left in my mind, it’s gone now.
“Yeah, I am.” I grin. “I’m fucking with you.”
“But why–?”