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Letters? After what she just said, and how my dick reacted to the idea of fucking a kid into her?
“Or give me your number,” I suggest. I need this girl in my life.
“Are you crazy? You told me your dad’s a sociopath.” Her gaze scans the room, with its fine fixtures and furnishings. “A rich one, who’d clearly go to extreme lengths, to maintain his power over you. He’s totally got your phone bugged. Probably your bedroom, too. You can message me the old-fashioned way. That’s more romantic, anyhow.”
I stare at her. Couldn’t stop looking if I wanted to. “Whoareyou?”
“Kira Corazon Grant. Your future wife, if your smooth moves are anything to go by, you slick, ginger son of a bitch. Who the fuck are you?”
“I’m the guy who needs your fucking address, so he can write you filthy love letters until you’re old enough to feel his dirty thoughts between your thighs.” I slap my hand over my mouth, but not fast enough.
Kira shakes her head. “Too late for that, asshole. Your thoughts are affecting me plenty, already. What the fuck are you doing to me? You have to rein that shit in, or I’m going to break some fucking deathbed promises.” She points to the far side of the room. “Go sit over there. Right now.”
I do as I’m told, with my cock like a stiff fucking, tail tucked between my legs.
“No easy address for you.” She grabs one of the glasses I’d got out earlier and fills it at the sink. “You’ll have to find it out for yourself,” she adds, before drinking the entire glass of water in one go and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand like a biker quenching his thirst at a bar. “And I will definitely not write you back, because your dad sounds like the kind of dick who’d intercept your mail, and I don’t want that old fucker getting all excited about what I’d put in there. You’ll just have to make up how I’d respond until you blow this joint and come find me. Capisce?”
“Yes.” She’s my perfect girl, with a perfect plan, and I’ll be enslaved by her perfection forever.
I’ll find her address and write to her every day until I see her again. It’s decided. All of it. I love her.
I’m planning our wedding night in my head, when our fathers walk in.
I don’t know why I’m surprised by her dad’s red hair, but now I love her even more for the flattering things she’s said about mine, because I know she meant them.
Our fathers look between Kira and me.
“What the fuck did you do?” mine demands to know as he glares at me.
“I threw an axe at his head,” Kira says without pause from the other side of the room.
“Kira.” Her dad stares at her, and then at me, disbelief all over his face. “What the—?”
Jack laughs out loud and turns to Mr. Grant. “I’m sure you’re thinking that’s not how guests make a good impression, but you’d be wrong, Sherman. She just sealed the deal for you, my friend. I’ll send the paperwork over in the morning.”
“But…” Sherman Grant looks my way, clearly concerned, now the initial shock has worn off. “Are you okay, son? Do you need a doctor?”
“He’ll be fine,” my father assures him. “Skull of lead, that one.”
“Lead is quite soft and malleable,” Kira says, helpfully. “That’s probably why his head was so easy to dent,” she adds with a snort, as she comes over and hands me a glass of water. “Nothing some fluids and pain relief won’t help, as Mom used to say. Next time someone throws an axe at you, consider getting out of the way, dumbass. You ready to go, Dad?”
“Ah… yes?” he says, still appearing confused by how inappropriately unfazed the rest of us are. He should follow suit if he wants to befriend Jack Montgomery, but he may not be as savvy as his daughter. “Are you sure—”
“I said,he’s fine,” Jack practically snarls. “Knowing him, he deserved it.”
It’s a good thing he doesn’t see the death-glare Kira’s attempting to assassinate him with. It would’ve given away her true feelings toward me in an instant, when she’s done so well to keep them undetected to this point.
Luckily, Jack’s distracted, yelling at me for spilling my full glass of water all over the carpet so obviously on purpose, to spite him.
Kira grabs her dad’s sleeve and drags him away, glancing over her shoulder to throw me a parting wink.
We’re in cahoots, she and I.
It’s us against the world, and I’m both honored and emboldened by her allegiance. It’s the first time I’ve felt hopeful about my future.
I’m in love. Without a doubt.
And later, I’ll sneak into my father’s office, find the Grants’ home address, and memorize it, so I can never be caught with hard evidence of my absolute infatuation and be made to pay the toll.
