She pretended not to notice that heâd followed her into the kitchen and she was about to slip off and slip into the bathroom and change into her sleazy, filthy outfit from the previous night before he stopped her. He grabbed her arm pulling her back into his muscular arms and she was obsessed with the way he towered over her. She felt incredible when his arms were wrapped around her. She couldnât help the way her body shiver when he slipped his hand up under his shirt, his skin burning against the small of her back making her want to spend the whole day in bed with him. She placed a hand on his chest as he pulled her body closer and lifted her chin then. A soft moan escaped her lips at the way he kissed her, like she meant something to him. She hated that she believed his lips, because the voice in the back of her head told her he truth she felt with him in that moment would wilt later.
"Coney Island it is." He whispered against her lips and she couldnât help the excited smirk that came to her lips. "I've never been there either actually." He said before giving her ass a playful slap and she bit her lip hating how much she needed him already. "Go get dressed, we'll stop by a store to get you some real clothes." She nodded slipping into the bathroom.
It took her little bit to get ready, mostly because she had to make herself decently presentable, enough so until she could get another outfit and some make-up. She came out dressed in last nights attire. Only this time she had her fur coat zipped up and exposing a lot less. Sheâd managed to pull her skirt down enough that her ass wasnât hanging out. Thankfully he hadnât taken her to a super ritzy area to shop. Heâd handed her his credit card and she was hesitant, but he insisted so sheâd taken it reluctantly. Heâd dropped her off and told her heâd be back in a couple hours. She assumed that he had to get stuff for himself considering theyâd both spent the night in a hotel room with few belongings. She wondered why he trusted her so much, after all she was still a prostitute and a murder, but she didnât question him.
Sheâd found her way to a nearby mall. Her outfit had been first and despite the looks from disgusted shoppers, sheâd picked something actually decent for once in her life. She wore a navy knit, long sleeved sweater that hung off one shoulder. A pair of black leggings and knee high brown boots. She realized looking it over in the full-length bathroom mirror where sheâd changed, it was the most modest outfit sheâd ever worn and it fit her well. She slipped out of the bathroom and into a make-up store paying the make-up artist at the booth to do her make up. It was natural browns and golds to bring out her hazel eyes. Her last stop was a salon in the mall. She wasnât stupid she knew the less she looked like herself the better off Sebastian would be. It was a quick process coloring her hair a dark brown and cutting it just past her collarbone. The brown, lob style cut made her less like a cheap prostitute. Unlike her long blue locks, her new hair cut made her look mature, like she belonged at Sebastianâs side and not just in his bed.
When she had a chance to look at herself for the first time after her quick, mini make-over she didnât recognize herself and it almost scared her. She was quick to make her way back to the place Seb had dropped her off, trashing her old clothes. He was already parked curb side and she hopped her wasnât too upset, sheâd made everything as quick as possible. She hoped he didnât hate her new look either. She slipped into the passenger seat of the car glancing to him. He looked incredible and his cologne drove her crazy, a part of her wanted to crawl into his lap and fuck him right there.
âSorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Ramsey.â She breathed. With a wicked smirk. She holded out his credit card too him, leaning over and pressing her lips to his cheek. She lend, back in her seat then, pretending she didnât look like and entirely different person. She pulled open his glove box, her eyes widened at the sight of a pistol. âNot what I was looking for.â She breathed picking it up fearlessly. She playfully pointed it at him as they drove down the street to where the ferry docked to go to Coney Island. There was a terrifying seriousness about the way she pointed the gun at him. âBabyâŠdo you have any more of that expensive white powder?â cocking the gun like she was really going to shoot him. Her eye went back to the glover box spotting his stash. âNever mind.â She purred tossing the gun back into the glovebox reaching for the coke. Pleased with her little joke. She couldnât shoot Seb even if she wanted too, but he didnât need to know that.
She kissed him, telling him sheâd get ready before she headed upstairs. He had half a mind to go upstairs and join her in the shower, for a second round. However, he knew that if they ever wanted to get out of there, fucking her in the shower wasnât an option. He slipped into the downstairs bathroom, showering quickly himself. He kept clothes here, even though this was the first time heâd slept over. Orson was always prepared for every situation. It was one of the things that made him so do at his job.
All of the clothes that Orson owned were designer. Not because he particularly wanted designer clothes, but because thatâs how heâd been raised. Appearance for his family was everything. This was also the reason for everything that had been previously purchased for Leonaâs wardrobe was also designer. Leo and him weâre going out for a causal day, yet Orsonâs outfit was still pressed and tucked perfectly into place. He wore a light blue button up shirt, a pair of dark blue slacks, and dark brown dress shoes. Well for Orson they were causal shoes, to any normal person theyâd be dress shoes. A Rolex watch adorned his wrist, making it clear that he had money, without being too flashy about it. Not that he needed too. Everyone in the state of New York knew who Orson Ramsey was and what his family was worth.
He slipped into the kitchen then running his hands though his hair as she cut a few lines of coke, knowing it was a bad idea. Still he lend down and did three thick white lines in a row. He could feel the drug taking over instantly. He continued into the living room suddenly feeling impatient. He lit himself a cigarette as checked his phone, waiting for Leona. He thought about texting his brother, but figuring he was probably enjoying his time off and he didnât want to bother him.
He glanced up as Leo plopped down on the couch next to him. His jaw clenched when she reached into his pocket, helping herself to his wallet. He fought the urge to reach out and snap her wrist, for thinking she could get away with slipping her hand into his pocket. He just watched though as she cut lines, leaning in and doing them. He was instantly regretting his coke intake. He acted for too irrationally when he was high and Leona knew how to push all the right buttons. He forced himself to focus on how incredible she looked. Heâd never seen Lola in anything but street corner clothes and prison jumpsuits. For a moment, her beauty had cut through his drug hazed mind. Leona pulled him from his though when she lend in and kissed him He tensed against her lips as she let out a soft moan. She pulled away.
"Ready to go, Papi?" She asked a smile on her lips. He stood up then looming over her, it was only clear now by the clear, glassy blue of his eyes just how high he was. He lend, in then, pressing his lips gently to hers, the gentleness however wasnât like it might have been earlier that morning when he was sober. This kiss was a warning. He pulled away, then holding her eyes.
âItâs Orson, when weâre in public.â He reminded her of one of the clauses on the contract. âDonât try anything stupid, like I said, Iâve got people everywhere.â He breathed, like he thought she was planning on running the second she thought she could. Orson became much more demanding and threatening when he was high. âLetâs go.â He breathed turning away from her then and heading towards the door.
Orson sped down the busy streets as if they werenât busy in the least. Swearing in and out of traffic like a maniac. His black Tesla, flew by several cops and it was disheartening how they didnât even try and stop him. It was apparent they knew who was behind the wheel of the expensive car and they didnât want to lose their jobs. The sight of seeing Orson racing down the street and running stops signs right in front of cops alone, was a show of just how powerful his family was. When they finally reached the pier to board the ferry there were a good amount of people.
He slipped out of the car, grateful that Leona had waited for him to walk around to her side and open the door for her. He placed his hand on the small of her back leading her towards the ferry. They were greeted by a man that was something of a valet for the boat. He led the two of them onto the ferry. Orson lend in kissing Leoâs cheek gently, like he was a well-known married man who was getting onto a public ferry where anyone could see them.
âI forgot to mention,â He whispered against her skin before pulling away completely. âYou look beautiful.â He breathed honestly.