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“Is anyone there watching in this fantasy?”
“Just the gator hidden beneath the surface, trying to bite my foot each time I kick and drag me to the depths of the lake, never to be seen again.”
Instant deflation. I scowl.
She cracks up. “You totally bought my act.”
Oh, I did more than buy into it. I was visualizing screwing her sweet naked body in the lake outside my house under the fucking stars like she wanted—or like I thought she wanted.
I straighten away from her, realizing I’d leaned closer, too. “You’re cruel.”
“Aw. What’s wrong, Easton? You can dish it, but you can’t take it?”
“I don’t do that.” I hit the gas and pull onto the road.
“You do, and it’s so much worse because you’re you.” She gestures to my body. “Talk about cruel.”
I almost blurt, “You can have this any time.”
“When I was on my kitchen floor and you told me everything you’d do to me sexually, I almost came.”
I tighten my grip to keep from jerking the wheel. “Fuck, Sadie. Do you want me to crash into a tree?”
“Sorry,” she says to the hamster cage.
“Don’t be sorry.” I huff. “Just be less tempting. Please.” It comes out as a harsh demand.
This is on me. I started it, enquiring more about her book covers. I didn’t expect her to give me fuck-me eyes, breathe in my ear, and conjure images of herself naked, floating in a lake.
Every time I look at her, that’s all I’ll see now. And I’m going to see her every day and night. Things just got that much harder.
Before this, I thought I had Sadie figured out. She has secrets I never would have guessed, and damn, if that doesn’t make her even more intriguing. To know she makes erotica covers and has a dirty side that wants to be spanked takes this arrangement to a knew fucked-up level.
At this point, I’m either going to have to move out of my house or screw Sadie from my mind until she’s erased and all I see are random blondes.
Chapter 11
Sadie
Easton’s house complements the natural surroundings without taking away from the beauty of the woods. Here, the red, orange, and yellow leaves are more vibrant. Must be because they’re close to the lake—and what a massive lake it is.
I glimpsed it through the trees from the winding driveway.
Easton parks near the side entrance garage. The car faces the backyard, the blue lake glistening beyond colorful trees that shade the leaf-colored lawn. Backyard might be an understatement. It’s like a giant nature preserve.
Easton takes the hamster cage from my lap. “Go. Run free, little rabbit. I’ll take DP inside.”
I turn my wide eyes to him. “Thank you.” If I weren’t itching to get out of the car and explore, I’d kiss him—on the cheek, of course.
I hop out, my jaw hanging. I didn’t know what to expect. Something similar to the estate but more Easton. This is natural, untouched except for a few structures that blend in as well as the house. They’re much smaller. A wood gazebo-like building on the far side. A fire pit made of stones and cut lumber for seats. A shed holds a kayak and a paddleboard. It’s near a dock with a fishing boat. Nothing says luxury—the three-story modern farmhouse aside—even though the property is worth a fortune.
Leaves crunch under my boots as I inch down the sloped ground for a better look at the lake. The deep blue water curves and stretches to the left and right, trees shading the shore on either side.
So much nature. This is what I love the most about small towns, at least the one where I was born, although Honeycomb doesn’t have any lakes this big. I don’t remember it having this many trees, either. It probably does; I just forgot because I haven’t been back in a while.
“What do you think?” Easton asks from somewhere behind me.
“I love it. I love it so much.” I glance over my shoulder.
