I wasn’t kidding when I said I was obsessive. Compulsive, even.
I follow her line of sight and grin when I see the very top of the cathedral-style wooden framework adds depth to the rest of the open plan.
“Ohhhh, there are windows up there! We can star-gaze from the comfort of our own home!” It’s impossible not to get excited as I watch Berkleigh tremble with happiness.
The living room is two steps below, giving it a cocoon feel with the lit fireplace as a central figure. Bay windows with French doors on one side, huge fucking kitchen so I can cook and fuck my woman at the same time.
One thing’s for damn sure, I can’t wait to get the fuck out of that cabin deep in the woods. We need more space to exist since being alone together is our favorite pastime.
“Maybe we’ll get the Northern Lights again this year.” I shrug like it’s no big deal but to be honest, it was just luck.
I should probably tell her how we got this house. Nah, she’ll try to pussystrike me again. Last time, she ended up with multiple handprints on her ass.
“Did the Combses move?” Berkleigh asks, and now I have to tell her because I’m okay with omitting the truth but I don’t lie.
“Yes.”
She whips around, her index finger pointed at me and her eyes ready to disintegrate me…again. “Did you…” She uses her finger to mock slice her throat and I swear to fuck I’ve never loved her more.
“No, I did not kill them. What the fuck, Berkleigh?” I’m laughing because, really…what the fuck? I don’t go around ending people so I can have a house. Although for the right reasons, I just might.
“You didsomething.” Her entire face falls when another reason occurs to her. “Oh my God, did they divorce? Mrs. Combs was a patient of mine and—” She cuts herself off before she can say any more. “And the rest is none of your business.” Ah, she was about to spill.
“Damn, HIPAA! And no, they didn’t divorce.” I chuckle. I really don’t fucking care what Mrs. Combs was crying about on Berkleigh’s couch, but I do care that their need for money was greater than their love for this house.
“Then how did you get this house?” Stubborn to the end.
“Fuck, Sweet Bee. You’re like a dog with a bone.” Fuck it, it’s no big deal.
“No, I’m a bitch who’ll stay far away from your boner if you don’t answer my question.” All humor leaves the room. Hell, it leaves the fucking state.
The animal in me takes over, shedding my coat, my gloves, and my boots as I fix her in my sights. Berkleigh knows exactly what she did ,and as soon as she sees my face, she starts running like a deer being chased by a mountain lion. A hungry, pissed off mountain lion.
I give her a head start, watch her as she speeds up the steps then hesitates at the top.
“You forget, Sweet Bee, that I’ve seen this house. I’ve memorized the layout and found all the nooks and crannies.” This is her first time and it makes it almost too easy for me to find her.
In fact, I can already guess where she’ll be hiding.
The audible footsteps and the creaky wooden floors aren’t helping her, either.
Slowly, I make my way upstairs, whistling so she’ll hear me coming. Every slasher film out there is playing in my mind, and when I catch her, I want to drink her screams and fuck away her fears.
Mostly, I need her to forget about ever denying me her pussy.
Raising my head and sniffing the air, I grin at the lingering perfume that’s like a GPS for the senses. I know where she is but if I catch her now, this game will be over too quickly. What’s the fun in that?
“For your information, the Combses hated living in this town.” I walk into the first guest room just to throw her off, give her some false security. “Their daughters needed a school capable of keeping up with their intellectual needs. Mr. Combs was fucking his partner and Mrs. Combs was two depression pills away from a fatal overdose.” I step back out of the spare bedroom and walk down the carpeted hallway, my fingers grazing the wooden walls. “I gave them the opportunity to walk away with enough money to start over.” I overpaid for this house, but knowing the land around it and the garage is ours as well makes it all worth it.
By the time I reach the main bedroom, I’m ready to chew her up and swallow everything she has to give. But not yet. I want her breath to hitch, her legs to shake, and her cunt to plead for my cock. Nothing less will do.
Standing with my back to the bed and my eyes homed in on the walk-in closet, I reach back and fist my T-shirt, pulling it over my head before tossing it behind me.
“This is our forever home, Sweet Bee.” I unbutton my jeans and pull down my zipper, giving my hard-on room to breathe. “The end justifies the means and the means, well, they werewell-meaning.” From Mr. Combs point of view, I saved their marriage. What he doesn’t know is that my parting words to Mrs. Combs probably made her a millionaire freed from his grasp.
“Cheaters are like serial killers. The thrill is in the hunt, the dopamine is the catch. He’ll never stop because he’s an addict.”
Mrs. Combs gasped but I could see in her eyes that she knew. She knew I was right.
