Chapter 5
by 
Yelawolf
You ...
Rent a room for the night
After the sordid scene in the alleyway, you make your way to a nearby hotel, your mind reeling from the depraved acts you just performed. As you enter the lavish lobby, you can still taste the bitter essence of the scar-faced man on your tongue, a grim reminder of the degrading task you undertook. You make a quick call and had a conversation with your handler at the agency, arranging a secure line to discuss the mission at different points to bring these guys down.
You approach the front desk, your heels clicking on the marble floor as you request a room for the night. The concierge, a middle-aged man with a neatly trimmed mustache, eyes your revealing attire with a hint of disapproval before handing you a key card.
As you turn to make your way to the elevator, you suddenly feel a presence behind you, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. Spinning around, you come face to face with one of the scar-faced man's lackeys, the tall, gaunt man.
He leers at you, his eyes roving over your barely-covered body, a wicked grin spreading across his rugged features. "Going somewhere, bonita? I thought you might want some... company tonight. The boss said to make sure you were comfortable before your big audition with El Escorpión."
As he speaks, you realize he must have overheard your conversation earlier. Your heart races as you realize the precarious nature of your situation, praying he hasn't gleaned any sensitive information from your hushed tones.
You **** a saccharine smile, batting your fake lashes at the scar-faced man as you respond, "Oh, I just need a good night's sleep before my big night. I want to look my best for your boss."
The scar-faced man's grin widens, revealing a set of crooked, yellowed teeth as he takes a step closer, invading your personal space. He reaches out a calloused hand, roughly grasping your elbow, his fingers sinking into your soft flesh.
Scarface lackey said. "A good night's sleep, huh? Well, bonita, I know just the thing to help you... relax. See, I've seen how you work, how you use your body to get what you want. Well, maybe you can use those pretty little skills to get me what I want too."
His grip tightens, and he pulls you closer, his breath hot and damp against your cheek. You can feel the hard bulk of a concealed weapon pressing against your thigh through his trousers, sending a chill down your spine. You know you're in dangerous territory, but you also understand the importance of maintaining your cover.
The lackey's hand slides down your arm, his fingers brushing against the side of your breast, teasing the swell of your artificial cleavage.
"I know your boss is expecting you to be... eager, for your meeting tomorrow. Maybe I can help you practice, no? So you'll be ready for whatever El Escorpión demands of you?"
He licks his chapped lips, his eyes glinting with sadistic hunger as they rove over your barely-concealed curves. You swallow hard, your mind racing with the need to keep up appearances even as you weigh the risks of engaging with this volatile man.