Is CiCi trying to recruit Zola? They’ve known each other for a long time. Maybe not. But she could have someone stalking Zola…maybe…to do what? Get her to consider fucking for money? No, that sounds off-base.
Baptiste’s notes on Takako were the most elusive. Takako had been born a boy, and then began dressing like a girl at nine. The fact that the parents allowed it pointed more to them being open and accepting versus abusive. There were school reports of Takako’s mother and father fighting for their child’s right to wear whatever they wanted to school.
The parents lost. They homeschooled Takako the next year, where they were able to develop their love for makeup and face painting. By sixteen, they had a popular vlog on YouTube and had been making $20,000 a month on their how-to make-up videos.
It was Zola that had found Takako from browsing the videos. She contacted and hired Takako the next day. Since then, Takako had become famous. They were a story about acceptance, reaching dreams, and boldly being whoever one wanted to be while facing the odds. More people had begun following Takako than Zola, and even Zola commented and liked more of their stuff than she posted on her own accounts.
However, Baptiste did note that Takako walked around with two razor blades strapped to their thighs. This could’ve been due to Takako being attacked several times since moving to New York City a year ago.
I’ll have to chat with Takako again. See what else they know.
So far, Takako’s information had been right on with Baptiste. I also liked their story. I had a special kinship with underdogs. The attacks that they’d dealt with in this past year pissed me off. Takako was slim and tall, but not aggressive looking in any way. They had a spunky and gossiping spirit, but not one that should’ve have invited people hitting and beating them in the street and in the middle of the night.
Yeah. Takako and I will have a talk. They may know more about this stalker thing, and it wouldn’t hurt to deal with their attacks, probably later. Maybe get them a gun or something.
I shifted out of Mr. Protector mode and went back to the notes.
I had a feeling that one of the other people—Trigger, Alexander, or CiCi & her pimp, Mr. Moon—were either Zola’s stalker or had something to do with the stalking. My gut hadn’t put me on the wrong path yet. And even though Zola was fogging my head and taunting my cock, I still had the audacity to trust my gut.
15
Moonlit Kisses
Hunter
I returned to the bedroom to check on Zola. Moonlight slipped in from the tall windows, and I couldn’t help it. I stood over the bed and gazed down at her.
I must’ve stood there for several minutes like an idiot, breathing her lush fragrance in. She smelled of exotic flowers. A rich fragrance that soothed me. Erotic female scents that heated my blood and triggered my cock to jerk in my pants.
Soon she stirred, and her eyes fluttered open. She slowly sat up and looked around. “I fell asleep in the car?”
“You did.”
She yawned. “Sorry.”
“You were tired. I’m glad you slept. You should go back to sleep.” I checked my watch. “You have to get up early again.”
“Well…”
I could already tell what was coming next.
“We should talk about your confession,” she said.
I ran my fingers through my hair, needing to do something with my hands. Part of me wanted to grab and kiss her. The other part wanted to get out of the room. My hard cock wanted to rub against her at least one more time as we’d done on the dance floor.
She rose from the bed and stood in front of me. “You want me. I want you. What are we going to do about it?”
Straight to the point. Usually, I was the one that hit the person with the hard reality.
I sighed but couldn’t look away from her. In my heart, a song sang. It ached. I inhaled her sweet scent and lost myself in her. “What do you want to do, Zola?”
She studied me. It was almost as though she was trying to figure me out. I felt like a bug under a persistent scientist’s microscope. And then she parted her lips. “I want whatever you have to offer.”
She put the ball in my court, and damn if I didn’t want to take it.
I bit my lip hard, trying to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. The sting of pain told me this was my new reality—Zola craving me.
She stepped closer as if unsure of what to do or say next. She tenderly grabbed my hand. Although so tall, her hands were small. Those soft fingers touched mine, delivering a lusty burn to my skin and raising the heat in the room.