Some nights, Con and I sit around the unlit firepit, wondering why we don’t just kill Ivan and everyone next door. He asks me why I don’t order a crane, sit on top of it, and start picking off Ivan’s people one by one.
I tell him I don’t want bodies all over the nice lawn.
Connor laughs at that.
I don’t think he knows how easy it would be for me to turn off my emotions and become my father. I do that when I’m on the job. I don’t need to be living that way. If I can conquer Selnoa without any more bloodshed, I will. But if I can’t…
I sip my beer. It’s another beautiful night after a dinner Dina made. She’s a fine cook, much better than Connor or me.
She has a ritual at night. She bathes in the big tub and then falls asleep watching TV in the bedroom while I sleep in the panic room. Just as well, since Connor set up our surveillance hub inside the panic room. It overlooks the entire property, including the mansion. The bedroom feed is on my phone, exclusive to me, the camera hidden inside the TV.
Sometimes I watch her put on her pajamas while my hand is in my pants. Despite what she says about her weight, Dina has a gorgeous body with a full ass. I fantasize about spanking her. Softly. Maybe she’s into cute daddy stuff. I like calling her baby. Secretly, I think she likes it too.
“Hey.” Dina pokes her head outside. “Connor left?”
I nod.
She showered and dressed for bed, wearing her gray-and-pink giraffe pajama dress. “Is there something wrong?”
“No.” I hope not, since my brother is in the storage space under Ivan’s private spaces, installing bugs that will hopefullypenetrate the floors and deliver the conversations Ivan is having in private.
“Hey.” I tap the cushion next to me. “Want to hang out?” I offer her Connor’s cold beer. He’s late, the beer is getting warm, and I need a distraction from thinking Ivan caught my brother or, worse, killed him.
I can tell Dina’s uncomfortable, or maybe she’s still holding a grudge from the other day when I brought Chi-chi here. Or maybe Dina is mad that her dad called my private line to thank me for the cruise ticket.
I don’t think he’d be thanking me if he knew my last name was Crossbow, but I appreciate a man with manners. Nowadays, most people take gifts and never bother to say thank you.
The cold beer wins her over, and she sits near me and tucks her bare feet under her bottom. When she reaches for the beer, her dark, wet hair frames her face, and I fist the bottle, holding it firmly. She tugs. I don’t let go but use the opportunity to lean in and get a whiff of her gentle, flowery scent.
“You smell good,” I tell her. “Come sit closer. I don’t bite.”
“Oh, I doubt that’s true.”
I smile. “Got me there.”
I can tell she’s reluctant to sit beside me. I curl her hair around my finger and tug. “Get over here, Dina.”
She scoots over.
“Tuck your feet under your bottom.” She does, and her shoulder leans against me. I pull down the pajama’s collar and kiss the skin on her shoulder.
Dina holds her breath.
I wonder what she’ll do. Move? Leave? Turn around and slap me?
After a moment, she takes a nice swig of her beer and says, “For a city you hate so much, you sure love sitting on the terrace in the morning, watching it wake up.”
I stretch my arm over the back of her seat. My fingers touch her other shoulder. I know she can feel that, and when she doesn’t slap my hand or protest, I slip my middle finger under the top of her pajama. Her skin is butter soft. I trace her shoulder, my dick hardening in my pants.
I look down to make sure it’s obvious. It’s not, so I spread my legs some more. That draws her gaze between my legs, and she catches sight of my erection.
Dina’s breathing becomes erratic.
I don’t make another move.
I keep my single middle finger on her shoulder. A subtle gesture that we are not friends. Or roommates. That I’m interested in fucking her. She needs a reminder of that. Along with a good spanking, but that’s optional. Beggars can’t be choosers now, can they?
My age doesn’t help me win her over. If anything, it’s making her more uncomfortable. I wish the world wasn’t judging us, but it is, and there’s no sense in telling Dina the opinion of others about our age gap doesn’t matter when she thinks it does. It’s far better to acknowledge the gap and fuck me despite it. No?
