Then she pivots around and moves to the empty check-out counter next to the one I’m at.
I turn my attention back to the pimply boy in front of me.
“Didn’t I tell you to hurry the fuck up?”
He actually lets out a little whimper that reminds me of the mutt up in my cabin right now.
But before I can threaten his life, a tall woman emerges out of thin air. Clearly, she’s been watching the entire exchange.
She’s wearing a white shirt whose top two buttons have been opened out just enough to display the impressive cleavage she’s toting around. Her hair is dark and so are her eyes. She’s just the kind of woman I used to gravitate to back when I was still a fool who thought chasing pussy was a worthy use of my time.
“Let me handle this, Jorge,” she says smoothly. “Sorry about him, señor. He’s new.”
I just growl.
She looks at me through dark, interested eyes.
I know immediately why she’s taken over at all. This bitch is sniffing around for cock. Some women are just self-destructive like that.
“I can offer you a discount,” she says, ringing up the alcohol with impressive speed. “For the wait.”
“Fine.”
“If you’re in a hurry, you can give me your address and I’ll drive everything over in an hour when I’m done with my shift.”
Fuck, she’s bold. And it should have been sexy as fuck. But my cock has barely twitched.
“Is that part of the job description?” I ask.
“No,” she replies, meeting my gaze and offering me a seductive smile. “But I like to go the extra mile for customers I like.”
“You don’t like me,” I sigh. “Your pussy is wet for me. There’s a difference.”
She blinks at me for a moment in stunned horror.
I nod, satisfied with how that went. “Keep the change,” I tell her as I hand over a wad of pesos.
* * *
Aracelia is standing by my car when I re-emerge into the parking lot. She stares at me as I load the groceries into the back seat and send the emptied cart flying into the curb with a shove.
“Move,” I bark. She’s blocking the driver’s seat.
“Artem, I’m worried—”
My hand whips out instinctively. Finds that throat I fantasized about snapping.
I squeeze hard. Maybe too hard.
Aracelia tries not to make a noise, but I can see the fear in her eyes. She drops the two bags of goods she was holding. One of the bananas tumbles out onto the dirty asphalt.
I pull her towards me, real fucking close, and look her right in the eye when I speak.
“Leave me the fuck alone, Aracelia. I won’t tell you again.”
Then I let my hand drop.
Aracelia is silent. Her eyes glaze over for a moment. Finally, he says, “Esme was right to leave you.”