And totally at home.
Dangerous combination.
In the other corner there’s a desk.
I cross the room.
Sit in her chair.
Imagine her crawling across my lap. Ripe, pink, and ready to be fucked stupid.
I pull out a journal.
Orion Grayson’s name is doodled like a teenager crushing on a warlord.
I scan the pages. There are extensive notes. Like she cased him.
Stalked him.
Learned everything about him before she made her move.
Beast. Protector. 8/10 table manners. 10/10 arms. Snores softly when exhausted. Likes to be blindfolded. Would die for me.
And there it is.
A Tammy confession.
Hidden in the margins.
Casual. Like she’s noting what groceries to buy.
“Handled the ex. No more interruptions.”
Jesus.
Fuck.
She did it.
She actually did it.
And I’m so hard I can barely think.
I flip open another. It’s huge.
Noah Carter.
The notes are detailed. Two notebooks.
He was her first.
Poet. Romantic. 9/10 table manners. Makes me feel precious. Cries during sex. Good tears. Would write me a song about murder.
Oh my God.
She broke into his house.
Drugged him.
