My breath comes out shaky; the stress making my muscles lock up. Every step toward the door feels like a lifetime. The very air feels thick, heavy, like trying to move through molasses. My trembling hand reaches for the doorknob, its cold metal the only real thing grounding me.
I turn the golden knob and slowly ease it open, trying to prevent any sudden loud creaking that might wake my potential kidnapper. With the softest click, I close the door behind me, feeling a little better to have a barrier between me and the random guy.
Do they have another name for a kidnapper who doesn't take kids but full grown adults? Adult—napper? For some reason it bothers me in this moment that I don't have a word that fits the situation even as I pad down a wooden hallway watching every step trying to keep from being heard or seen.
The staircase creaks loudly, sending cold shoots of panic up through my legs before spearing into my brain. With a quick glance out the window I find myself I'm in a forested area similar to the one I live in. Maybe I'm not too far from home?
If only I had my phone. I could call 911 or my friends.
The house is decorated in a masculine mountain man kind of way from the wood-paneled walls to the plaid furniture. The smell of pine and coffee fill the air, but I don't take the time to enjoy the pleasant mixture as my nostrils are full of my own fear.
And that fear intensifies when I begin to suspect who’s house I’m in.
Oh gods no.
Chapter10
A Cream Puff Ruins Breakfast
TED
The stack of flapjacks and bacon pieces steam on my plate. I made too much, a habit I never bothered to break since my brothers still drop in so frequently.
I’m about to take the first sip of my coffee when a loud creak met my ears. A sweet feminine scent reaches my nose. A woman is coming down the stairs with measured steps. One who is trying to be sneaky but failing.
Godsdammit. Not again.
Setting the mug back down on the table without tasting the dark roast, I consider pulling out the whiskey.
It’s not even eight AM. Let’s hold off, shall we?
I’m half between deciding if I should flee out to the balcony or stand my ground in the kitchen—it is my house after all—when the woman’s scent intensifies.
Ripe strawberries, thick sweet amber honey, and a hint of light spring florals spreads along my tongue.
My stomach drops the same time my hearts shoots up, lodging itself in my throat
Before that plump, silky tan leg steps into view, I knowexactlywho is in my house.
My voluptuous neighbor steps into my foyer, in full view of the kitchen. The girls my brother usually brings home love to wear his shirts, and swim in the length of fabric. But she wears an absolutely touchable, silken, pink and white striped sleep set.
Goldie’s blonde curls are tousled from the roll she likely just had in JJ’s bed. She tip-toes forward, drawing my attention to her bare feet. For faefuck’s sake, even her toes are sexy.
And holy witchtits, is that a tattoo peeking out from under her shorts on her upper thigh?
She licks her already glistening lips and I wonder if my brother even enjoyed kissing those soft petals, or if that ungrateful swine treated her like any other of his conquests.
JJ’s smell clings to her. Acid coats my esophagus, so I push the steaming mug of coffee away from me. My stomach churns with something that erases my hunger entirely. Something that I’d never known to be possible.
In a split second, my peaceful morning routine is ruined. I don’t want to eat my hot breakfast and take my coffee to the deck to soak in the sunshine on my face. There’s only the overwhelming urge to slam open the liquor cabinet and pour a full glass of whiskey and march straight back to my bedroom with it, put on a fishing show and stay there the rest of the day with the curtains drawn. That or give into something far more feral deep inside me that desperately wants to be let loose.
When Goldie’s gaze lands on me, her lids fly wide. Maybe JJ told her this was his house like he’s told all the other girls. I bet she believes him even though she’s only seen me here the last couple weeks. The only one she’s been torturing.
“So when I wouldn’t show you the house, you decided to find another way in?” The dry words pop out of my mouth before I even think.
“I—” Her mouth flaps open and shut, and there is this wild look in her eyes. And why wouldn’t there be? I’m being rude.Again.
Goldie’s eyes widen as she seems to take in the surroundings. Surroundings I never intended on letting her see. Not because I’m ashamed of my house. In fact, I’m quite proud of my home. It’s cozy and rustic with upgrades I added myself, like automatic shades and Moroccan tile I installed in the bathrooms.
