Chapter 01 MARLO
“C’monnnn, darlin’, you know you wanna.”
“I can’t take you serious with the cowboy hat,“
I mutter as I pull down my lower lid and apply black to my lash line.
“But it’s a fan fave. I’m not losing it now.”
With the accent to match, it’s not hard to figure out why Trev is a hit. He’s ripped, wearing nothing but chaps—and I mean nothing—and leaning into my space so heavily, I see more of his face in the lighted mirror than mine.
Snorting, I reach into my bag one handed and fish out the tub of lip gloss I know he’s after. I hate sharing the stuff, but I have five minutes to finish this look and take a piss before I’m up.
He whoops when I hand him the tube and smears it on like a hooligan before disappearing out of my reflection.
I can still feel the heat through the oil coating his skin from his proximity but at least I can swipe my mascara on in peace.
It’s purple—my favorite—and matches the lace covering my cock.
Knowing it won’t stay that way, I still stand and give it a little fluff once I’m done painting my face.
I like this version.
Handsome eyes stare back. High cheek bones. Glitter-coated skin sparkles in the low lighting. A bulging package and toned muscles.
It’s exactly who I always dreamed of being when I was younger.
“You still going to that thing later?“
Trev asks me, cowboy hat pulled low over his brow. The thing looks ridiculous. And hot. But I’ll never admit that last bit to him.
“Tomorrow,“
I answer with a scoff. “Just because our shifts don’t end until two in the morning doesn’t mean—”
“Yeah, yeah,“
he mutters, cutting me off with a wave of his hand and roll to his eyes. “It’s not tomorrow until you wake up. Which is a dumb rule considering the rest of the world starts their day at midnight.”
He flashes me his phone with the time and I sigh.
00:01.
Tomorrow.
“Who even uses military time, Trev?”
The high-pitched sound gets stuck in his throat as he follows me past the lockers and up the few steps that lead us to backstage.
“Um, veterans. Like me. Your roommate. And it’s not even a military thing. It’s a world thing.“
I can’t help the chuckle that bubbles up as I swat him back when he goes to peek through the thick curtain blocking us from view. “And quit changing the subject.”
Sighing, the bass of the song drops, matching the vibration of two hundred pounds hitting the stage we’re standing on, and I can feel both flutter over my exposed skin.
“I said I was going.”
“You obsessed over it for weeks.”
“Well, it took forever to get a response back.”
Trev can tell I’m lying but I don’t back down. Even when he looks me dead in the eye and raises one dark brow.
Asshole knows too much about what I like. It’s quickly becoming a problem considering we spend most waking moments together.
We aren’t together. We’re incompatible. But he knows too much to be safe.
I should probably plan his demise after the photoshoot tomorrow—
Today.
What the fuck ever.
Palming his whole face, I push him out of my way when my song kicks on and step out onto the stage.
The floor rattles below my feet and the spotlight makes my skin feel as warm as the eyes that land on me when I emerge.
It makes me feel good to be watched. To be salivated over. To know that each set of peepers tracking my every move would absolutely love to have their way with me, though none of them will.
It feels powerful.
Admittedly, though, it’s losing its luster.
And as I take the cool metal in my palm and begin my routine, I find that all I can think about is tomorrow.
When I get to be under the scrutiny of a different lens with a complete stranger.
I think that a blind boudoir date is exactly what I need.