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Chapter One
If a person knew where to look, there was a gap in the big rhododendrons in front of the little cape at 22 Meadow Lane.
And the gap led to a space between the bushes and the house. A space that was about big enough for a small adult woman and not much larger. It also happened to be well-shielded from the street but allowed an angled line of sight into the living room at the front of the house. Perhaps at the man who was currently watching a crime procedural and doing push-ups. Shirtless.
Twyla maybe knew this. For reasons. It definitely wasn’t her first rodeo leaning against the siding of the house and watching slack-jawed as Mr. Fox did his evening workout. He was getting toward the end, which was fine.
She didn’t know how much more she could take staring at the ridiculously hot man bringing his chest almost to the floor, levering himself off the ground, and touching a hand to the opposite shoulder. Show off.
Of course, the thing was, he didn’t know he was being watched. How mortified would he be if he knew she was here? Or would he be mad?
Twyla’s teeth sunk into her bottom lip as she thought about him catching her spying on him. What would he do? Would he yell? No, Mr. Fox didn’t yell.
Would he grab her by the arm, haul her into the house and teach her a lesson she wouldn’t forget about how it’s not polite to watch people through their windows?
Her breath quickened, because yeah. She could see him doing that. Really,wantedto see him doing that. Wanted to hear his stern lecture and then be taken over his lap and spanked for being such a naughty girl.
She felt the ache between her legs grow sharper as she thought of it, and rubbed her thighs together to try to make it go away.
It only got worse as he pushed to his feet and grabbed a water bottle and took a long draft, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed.
Sweat clung to his muscles, slid down the channels carved into his defined abs, and made his blond hair stick to his forehead. He stood there with a hand on his hip, and after he finished downing his water, wiped the sweatband on his wrist across his hairline.
He’d stretch now, and that was Twyla’s cue to sneak into his backyard and into the shed where he kept his rakes and lawn mower and chainsaw; the things a man would need to take care of his home.
The bushes provided good cover but she still felt exposed and it wouldn’t do to have anyone walking by and discovering what she was about to be up to. So she tiptoed along the side of the house and stole into the neatly kept backyard with its flower and vegetable beds, and then let herself into the shed.
It smelled of dirt and gasoline and freshly cut grass and hard work. Luckily, Mr. Fox also kept a few lawn chairs in the shed and it was to them she headed, picking her way around gas canisters and coiled garden hoses.
Once there, she sat and didn’t waste any time. No, there wasn’t any time to waste. Nor did she need much in the way of warm-up. Her peep-show and fantasizing were pretty much all she needed to get turned on and squirmy.
Twyla yanked up her dress, spread her legs and stuffed her hand into her underwear. She closed her eyes and circled a finger around her clit as she imagined being caught and disciplined for her impolite behavior. She was on the verge of orgasm when the door to the shed burst open and crashed against the wall, making the hedge trimmer and clippers and spades on the pegboard shake with the impact.
Oh shit.
Mr. Fox stood in the doorway, freshly showered and wearing sweats with a threadbare tee that clung to his pecs and biceps in a way that made her want to bite them.
“Twyla, what are you doing here? It’s dark out and you’re…” His blue eyes narrowed and his lips parted. “Are you masturbating?”
“Well I’m sure as hell not cooking a turkey dinner,” she retorted, her heart racing and her voice breathy.
She saw the twitch of his jaw as he tried not to laugh.
“No, you’re certainly not.”
He stared at her and while she didn’t keep rubbing her clit, she didn’t remove her hand either.
“What are you doing getting yourself off in my shed? I ought to call the cops on you for trespassing. And public indecency.”
Twyla didn’t like the idea of actual cops hauling her down to the station and making lewd jokes and insinuations while they booked her. Probably strip-searched her. But she wouldn’t mind a little role play.
Maybe with some of the other men from Hive that her daddy had introduced her to. The club owners were pretty hot although Master Ryker scared the hell out of her. She liked the look of some of the others too, like Jethro and Gideon and Arthur and of course there was always Doctor Eric.
But that wasn’t the game they were playing right now. This game was just the two of them.
“Go ahead. Wouldn’t be the first time I had the cops called on me.”
Being so bratty made her heart pound. She loved, loved being her daddy’s good sweet girl, but sometimes it was fun to pretend to be sassy and disrespectful and to get punished for it. Because that’s what this was: fun.
