‘You look like a deeply troubled young woman,’ he said, his voice quieting toward the end.
I winked, slowly dragging a hand down my hips. ‘Come here, and I’ll show you just how bad.’
‘You need to go,’ he said, crossing his arms. ‘Leave.’
What a bore.
Switching to a seated position, where I perched on the cold leather arm, I observed him more closely. Although he showed some signs of ageing, he was tall and muscular. The wrinkles gave him a rough edge I liked in my men.
Quite handsome. His eyes held a feral glint that intrigued me. I was certain he would fuck like a savage. And he obviously wanted me. He just didn’t want the complications with his son.
Crossing my legs, I caught his wandering gaze. ‘Sit with me. I don’t bite.’
The man squeezed his eyes shut for a second. ‘If only you knew how inappropriate this is.’
Bleh. ‘Oh really, why? Because your son will cry himself to sleep?’
‘Because to sleep with both a mother and her daughter is too taboo, even for me.’
I straightened. ‘What?’
‘Leave,’ he barked, holding the door open.
I didn’t move.
‘You slept with my mother?’ I asked, feeling blindsided.
Before he could answer, shadows wrapped around me and hurled me back into my room.
Fucking shadow people.
Pacing around the room, it felt like perhaps I’d died and ended up in my own personal hell. It would explain all of this.
Leaving once more, I decided it was time to putplan Binto action.
Since the bastard’s father was a failure that couldn’t recognise the time of his life if it smacked him in the face, it was time to stir some shit in the manor.
Walking downstairs, I couldn’t help the smirk pulling at my glossed lips. My next victim wasn’t bad-looking at all. A little too cute to be called handsome, but he would do.
‘Hi there,’ I said as I exited through the front door. There was even a hint of sunshine above us, which must have been a good sign.
Dirt covered his dark overalls as he stood, flinching as if shocked that I spoke to him.
Weird.
‘Um, hi.’
‘I’m Willow.' I extended my hand, waiting for him to put down the spear he trimmed the bushes with.
How can the grass be black and the shrubs green?
He stared for a couple of seconds before throwing it to the ground and wiping his grime-covered hand on his trousers. ‘I’m filthy; are you sure you want to—’
Without letting him finish, I grabbed his hand and shook it. ‘I don’t mind getting a little dirty.’
Nothing. He just watched me, pupils blown wide.
Was I the predator in this scenario? Was he my little lamb?
