4 Months-1 by Gadziala Jessica

Author:Gadziala, Jessica
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-07-12T16:00:00+00:00

"So what do you think?" Clarke asked, stepping out of the bathroom after locking herself in there for nearly an hour and a half.

In that dress.

Black.

Tight.

Low cut in the bodice.

Short in the hem.

Slicing up the front of one thigh in a way that was almost indecent.

I would have to do all that thinking and analyzing later. Because seeing her in that dress, well, made every single rational thought in my head disappear.

ELEVEN

Clarke

It was stupid to be nervous.

I mean... I had hoped to make a living out of putting myself into dangerous situations. Repeatedly. I understood that there was no guarantee that when I got into my uniform, strapped on my gun and badge, and went out there on the streets, that I would come home at night.

Those were the risks I had weighed and considered, ones I had decided to take.

And yet, here I was, getting ready to do my first truly dangerous thing, yet I was freaking out a bit.

That was why I spent so much time in front of the mirror. Well, that and the fact that I kind of sucked at applying eyeshadow since I never wore it - always having too much of a tendency to touch my face, a fact my germaphobic kindergarten teacher would have hated to know about me. But even after I had the smoky eye with a touch of desperation down, I still stood there in a barely-there silky thong staring at an only half-familiar face in the mirror, reminding myself that this was what I wanted, that the satisfaction of being able to bring down a man that Murphy had failed to would be worth it all.

Yet, somehow, that clawing, unavoidable need to prove myself suddenly felt a little silly, empty.

But why?

Because I had a different opportunity to prove myself? Because I had someone else to prove myself to?

Not out of revenge, but just a desire to be good enough, to hear praise about my work. Even just Barrett's comments about the depth of my notes had made me stand a little straighter.

Regardless of my enthusiasm for this particular plotting of revenge, I understood there was a job to be done. I got Barrett involved in this. He was sacrificing his time. We had to at least try to see it through.

"You got this," I reminded myself, silently wishing for those little flower petals that might make my nipples slightly less visible underneath the dress that left exactly nothing to the imagination.

I wasn't against using my sexuality. It was an asset, after all. This was just an act, just a game. So why did I feel so squirrelly about it? Why was my skin sticky and my stomach doing its very own rollercoaster ride?

Shaking off the nerves, I slipped into the ankle-breaking heels, spritzed on about five puffs of perfume, clipped on a gaudy as hell thick gold chain necklace along with some thin gold hoops, took a deep breath, and let myself out into the main room where Barrett

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