and fantasies when it came to Ginger. They had only worked together a few times, and she was as aloof as can be. He knew she thought he was immoral and violent, but so was she. She just liked to pretend she was better than the things he did. At least he was secure enough in himself to admit it, to come to terms with the fact that he was a cold-blooded killer.
She liked to pretend she was just helping out her grandmother, but the Wolf knew that her grandmother was one of the most ruthless women he’d ever come across, and Ginger took after her, whether she liked it or not.
And now she was here.
There was no chance that Ginger Jones had been invited to this party, just as he hadn’t been invited either. She didn’t run with this crowd, and he was certain that if Alfred Carino knew that this was Augusta Jones’ granddaughter, he’d have Ginger pulled away from the party and killed when no one was looking. Probably by the Wolf himself.
What are you doing here, Little Red? The Wolf thought to himself. Playing with the wolves who would gladly eat you?
But Ginger’s focus was solely on Alfred. Though she met the Wolf’s eyes once, he knew that she didn’t recognize him with the wolf mask on. The screen over the eyes completely blocked out any chance of her seeing his eyes.
She probably doesn’t remember what you look like anyway. She did her best not to look at your ugly mug.
The Wolf smiled under his mask. With her not knowing who he was, he could have some fun with her tonight. As long as she didn’t interfere with the job that he had to do.
He watched with interest as Ginger approached Alfred. One of the guards would have to snap to attention and possibly run interference. Since he knew Ginger, he decided that should be him.
The Wolf stepped forward, coming to Alfred’s side just as Ginger stopped a few feet away and gave Alfred a demure smile.
“Easy,” Alfred said to the Wolf under his breath, warning for him not to get involved.
Of course Alfred was intrigued by this guest. Everyone else seemed to be. Even Alfred’s own date was giving her dagger eyes. She turned to her friends and whispered “Who is that? Who wears red to a party?” One of her friends agreed, telling her it was “Garish.”
The Wolf smiled again. It was rather garish, but he liked what Ginger was wearing. It was in your face, the color of blood, a stain in the false purity of the party. She made it so she would be remembered but for all the wrong details. He bit his lip for a moment, his eyes coasting down the creamy skin of her chest, the soft swells of her tits which were lifted high in her strapless gown. She kept a red cloak around her for modesty, but it didn’t do much in that department. Her crimson hair was long, spilling around her shoulders. Jessica Rabbit come to life.
Beneath the gold mask she was wearing, he could see those familiar blue eyes of hers boring into Alfred. No doubt the man felt the pull to them. The Wolf had been caught in them many times, more than he’d care to admit. For all his wanting of Ginger when they worked together, he wasn’t the type to be distracted by a woman. His job, his reputation, was all that really mattered to him.
And yet she stayed in his mind long after.
Now she was here, and she was giving Alfred a look that the Wolf had only dreamed of.
Alfred couldn’t be saved. Not yet.
With a cunning smile, Alfred took a few easy steps over to Ginger and said, “I think you must be the best dressed person at this party.”
Alfred’s date scoffed and rolled her eyes, walking away from him, her friends in tow. The Wolf supposed the woman was used to Alfred hitting on everything that walked.
“Thank you,” Ginger said, and her low, throaty voice made the Wolf’s dick go hard again. “That’s a high compliment, considering how splendid this party is.”
She flashed a smile, perfect white teeth against her red lips, a Marilyn Monroe smile. She was flirting with him, pulling out all the stops, and the Wolf had no doubt now as to what Ginger was doing there.
She was going to try and take his job away from him.