Single Lady Spy 01 - The End of Me

Was she oblivious to the fact, he had just shredded my clothing off in the restroom? Did she think I went in there like Superwoman, but realized after, I had shredded my clothes that my costume was at home?
    She did up a zipper and nattered on, “The women's clothes are for me. We stop everywhere, so I have clothes for my off time."
    I laughed, "Rough."
    She gave me a serious look, "I am probably going to get cancer from this bloody plane. You know how much radiation flight attendants are exposed to?"
    I flinched, "No."
    She rolled her eyes, "A lot."
    I looked around the back room for a shower, "There isn’t a shower in here is there?" I wanted him off my skin. I wanted him out of me.
    She laughed, "This isn’t an RV."
    I sighed, "I smell."
    She laughed and pointed to the clothes set out, "Just dress. He wants us back out there in like a minute." Her bright, glossy eyes narrowed, "We don’t make him angry, ever."
    I nodded. I had sort of assumed that, with the profession he had undertaken. He was a bad man.
    A bad man my vagina crazy loved.
    And I was back to the Pretty Woman analogy.
    I hiked up the skirt and pulled on the black-lace underwear that shaped around my ass perfectly. I checked the tag and nodded, French, of course. They were probably hundred-dollar underwear.
    Did James buy these for Mel? Did they laugh at me, when they pretended to be at work, but were really spending crazy amounts of money, and living it up with his millions? Did she have millions too? Was I the only idiot who missed the affair, that was suddenly so obvious from every angle I looked at it now?
    I sighed and pulled on the charcoal-leather-pushup bandeau that matched the skirt. I attached the clasp and looked at myself. I looked sexy, my stomach was flat, my legs were long and toned from the running, and my boobs looked hot in the bra. I felt dirty though. It was a bra bought with drugs, guns, and blood money. I looked at myself and remembered what my dad always told me, "When running an Intel op, you have to remember that you aren’t the person you were when you woke up. You're the person you need to be. You're whatever your country needs you to be, and that is the hard part of the job, Evie. Can you be what they need and not who you want?"
    I would nod and he would say, "Because I can tell you, those two or three or four people will never be the same, as the person you want to be. This job can rot you from the inside. You gotta let it hurt for a second and then you gotta turn it off."
    In my green eyes, I saw his.
    I saw the pride he had when I graduated top honors. I saw the way he introduced me. I saw the way he accidentally groomed me for the job when he was raising me.
    I let it hurt for a second and then I turned it off.
    I looked down at the Christian Louboutin ankle-boot pumps and smiled. My back was going to kill me, but I was going to look sexy as hell while in that pain. I styled my hair with mousse, making it look euro trash. I could be receiving a CMA award with that hair. I glued the false lashes on and back-lined them. I fluttered my eyes and balanced it with mascara and steel-gray shadow. I dabbed the Russian Red MAC lipstick across my mouth and slid the gloss on after. Seeing myself like that, I was stunned. I hadn't looked like that in a long time. My brain, the dirty, cheap, fighting, bitch she was, made a snide-asshole comment about that being the reason James had strayed. But I knew, he had been straying from the start and no low self-esteem, was going to convince me otherwise.
    I slipped on the boots, getting my balance before attempting anything else. Then I pulled on the leather halter-top and called to Roxy, who had gone in the other room.
    The curtain pulled back, but the hands that touched my back were not hers. I looked up suddenly in the mirror. He smirked, "You look like trouble." He zipped me up and then slid his arms around me.
    I smiled and tried not to get any Russian Red on my teeth.
    His hands grabbed my hips, pulling me back into his groin, "I like your ass at this height." He rubbed himself against me again. Was he hard already? My body had a response for that, I may or may not have agreed, but the response was there.
    He moved my huge hair to one side and nestled himself in my neck, "Odd, I just had you and now I want you again. Maybe it's because I can smell sex on you still."
    I blushed, "I was hoping to take a shower." I didn’t want to have that conversation in front of a mirror, while