Was he stalking her now?
Antsy to know, he called upstairs to Lenora. “I’m going to look around the parking lot. Stay inside with the door locked.”
She appeared at the top of the steps, her face crinkled in worry. “Did you see someone?”
He shrugged. “Just routine. I want to check out the parking lot before we both turn in.”
She nodded, but her hand tightened around the stair rail, and she slowly descended the steps. “I’ll wait down here.”
He stepped outside, waiting until she locked the door behind him, then he eased around the building to the corner where he’d seen the man. He had his back to him, coat collar pulled up, face obliterated in shadows.
Cigarette smoke curled into the sky as the man leaned his head back and blew smoke rings into the air. If it was Simpleton, he wasn’t even trying to hide.
Cocky jerk.
Inching toward a van to disguise his actions until he could get a better look, Micah patted his gun, ready to draw. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the man stiffen.
Micah walked slowly, so as not to startle him, but suddenly the man cursed, tossed the cigarette onto the ground, stubbed it out with the toe of his boot, then took off running along the edge of the parking lot.
Micah vaulted into action and ran after him. The man was tall, fast, wearing cowboy boots and jeans, but he couldn’t distinguish his face. Moonlight streamed through the trees, enough for him to see a tattoo on the back of the man’s neck.
His head was shaved, his body stout like Simpleton’s.
The man dashed through a row of vehicles, then dove into a black Range Rover. Micah sprinted in front of it, drew his gun and aimed it at the man’s face.
“Get out or I’ll shoot.”
Robert watched through the window of Nan Purcell’s bedroom, his cock growing thicker as she shimmied into a little black dress. Was she going to a business dinner or was a lover waiting?
He wished he knew.
Not that it mattered.
He intended to change those plans for her.
Christ, she had great tits. He remembered them from the trial. Remembered that she’d worn a conservative white blouse, but that the buttons had strained across her big chest. The whole time he’d been on the stand, he’d stared at them, willing the buttons to pop and expose her cleavage.
He had imagined what her breasts looked like beneath that thin white blouse. The large dark areoles poking through a lacy white bra. White for purity.
Yet the bitch was not pure.
Those nipples begged for a man’s mouth.
Would she scream when he touched her? Beg him to stop?
She straightened her skirt, long slender fingers running over her ass as she examined herself in the mirror.
He wanted to touch that ass himself. And he would.
She sank onto the stool in front of her vanity and began combing through her dark hair. It was a deep reddish brown, shiny and long, wavy on the ends, curling around her neck. Her hand moved in nice even strokes.
Was she counting them?
His hands itched to thread the strands around his fingers. To wind them so tight she’d cry out in pain as he rammed himself inside her cunt.
Then she twisted her hair around one hand and slid a glittery comb in the bun to hold it away from her neck, exposing the creamy skin of her throat. He licked his lips, hungry to have her.
What would her skin taste like? Salty? Sweet like honey?
Excitement coursed through him.
Did she know he was out here watching? Maybe she did and she was putting on a show for him.
She turned sideways on the stool, slowly strapping on a pair of black-heeled sandals. Her toes were painted a deep crimson red.
Blood red.
Need shot through him, scorching hot. Heady.
Finally she checked her make-up then picked up a tube of lipstick and painted her lips. The same color as her toenails.
Hot, delicious red again.
Smiling at herself, she spritzed perfume behind her ears, then a dot between her breasts.
Hmmm…
Satisfied with her looks, she grabbed her cell phone,
Antsy to know, he called upstairs to Lenora. “I’m going to look around the parking lot. Stay inside with the door locked.”
She appeared at the top of the steps, her face crinkled in worry. “Did you see someone?”
He shrugged. “Just routine. I want to check out the parking lot before we both turn in.”
She nodded, but her hand tightened around the stair rail, and she slowly descended the steps. “I’ll wait down here.”
He stepped outside, waiting until she locked the door behind him, then he eased around the building to the corner where he’d seen the man. He had his back to him, coat collar pulled up, face obliterated in shadows.
Cigarette smoke curled into the sky as the man leaned his head back and blew smoke rings into the air. If it was Simpleton, he wasn’t even trying to hide.
Cocky jerk.
Inching toward a van to disguise his actions until he could get a better look, Micah patted his gun, ready to draw. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the man stiffen.
Micah walked slowly, so as not to startle him, but suddenly the man cursed, tossed the cigarette onto the ground, stubbed it out with the toe of his boot, then took off running along the edge of the parking lot.
Micah vaulted into action and ran after him. The man was tall, fast, wearing cowboy boots and jeans, but he couldn’t distinguish his face. Moonlight streamed through the trees, enough for him to see a tattoo on the back of the man’s neck.
His head was shaved, his body stout like Simpleton’s.
The man dashed through a row of vehicles, then dove into a black Range Rover. Micah sprinted in front of it, drew his gun and aimed it at the man’s face.
“Get out or I’ll shoot.”
Robert watched through the window of Nan Purcell’s bedroom, his cock growing thicker as she shimmied into a little black dress. Was she going to a business dinner or was a lover waiting?
He wished he knew.
Not that it mattered.
He intended to change those plans for her.
Christ, she had great tits. He remembered them from the trial. Remembered that she’d worn a conservative white blouse, but that the buttons had strained across her big chest. The whole time he’d been on the stand, he’d stared at them, willing the buttons to pop and expose her cleavage.
He had imagined what her breasts looked like beneath that thin white blouse. The large dark areoles poking through a lacy white bra. White for purity.
Yet the bitch was not pure.
Those nipples begged for a man’s mouth.
Would she scream when he touched her? Beg him to stop?
She straightened her skirt, long slender fingers running over her ass as she examined herself in the mirror.
He wanted to touch that ass himself. And he would.
She sank onto the stool in front of her vanity and began combing through her dark hair. It was a deep reddish brown, shiny and long, wavy on the ends, curling around her neck. Her hand moved in nice even strokes.
Was she counting them?
His hands itched to thread the strands around his fingers. To wind them so tight she’d cry out in pain as he rammed himself inside her cunt.
Then she twisted her hair around one hand and slid a glittery comb in the bun to hold it away from her neck, exposing the creamy skin of her throat. He licked his lips, hungry to have her.
What would her skin taste like? Salty? Sweet like honey?
Excitement coursed through him.
Did she know he was out here watching? Maybe she did and she was putting on a show for him.
She turned sideways on the stool, slowly strapping on a pair of black-heeled sandals. Her toes were painted a deep crimson red.
Blood red.
Need shot through him, scorching hot. Heady.
Finally she checked her make-up then picked up a tube of lipstick and painted her lips. The same color as her toenails.
Hot, delicious red again.
Smiling at herself, she spritzed perfume behind her ears, then a dot between her breasts.
Hmmm…
Satisfied with her looks, she grabbed her cell phone,
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