AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Totally inappropriate.I don’t even know why I would think something like that.
“Who was the previous owner?” Avraam asks, his eyes scanning me like I’m hiding something from him. They linger on my breasts just long enough to make me blush and forget what he just asked.
“Um, sorry, what was the question?” I ask, shaking my head to clear it.
“The previous owner,” he repeats, walking toward the door to the basement. He lays his hand on the knob, then pulls it back suddenly. “Or has it been empty this whole time?”
“It’s… um, I’m not sure. It did seem kind of abandoned when I bought it, but they didn’t say. I didn’t ask too many questions, honestly. It was a good price so I took it.”
“I can give you a better price,” he replies, looking at me with eyes like lasers. “How much did you pay?”
I wrinkle my nose at his question. “What’s your deal?”
“I want the house,” he replies. “Seems nice.”
“You must be crazy or something,” I reply, shaking my head. “I’m not even sure why I let you in, but if you start acting weird on me, I’m going to call the police.”
There’s a flicker of fear in his eyes, and his face drops. “No need for that. I’m not trying to bother you. It’s been a long time since I’ve been in town, and I needed a place to stay. I thought coming back to the house I used to own would be a good bet, but I see you’ve already claimed it.”
I fold my arms over my chest, leaning back against the door. “You can’t get a hotel or something?”
He shrugs. “No money.”
“You’re homeless?” I ask in disbelief.
“For the time being, yes. Maybe you’ll take pity on me,” he says holding out his hands with his palms turned upward. A smirk creeps onto his face, and I immediately know he’s playing some kind of game with me.
I scoff. “Save the sob story. I’m not selling the house, and I’m not letting you stay the night.”
“I think we got off on the wrong foot,” he says, softening his voice as he drops his hands. “I’m not trying to intrude on your space or disrupt what you have going on here. I was cold and in need of a place to warm myself up for a few minutes. I’m not going to bother you. May I just use your dryer for my coat? It’s soaked.”
That part of his story is true. His clothes are dripping wet, and I’d rather not send him out to his death. I’d hate to feel responsible for that, even if this is entirely his fault.
I don’t owe him anything, but if everyone acted that way, civilization as we know it would end.
“There’s a laundry room at the end of the hallway, but I’m honestly not even sure if the dryer works. I haven’t tested anything but the water.”
He smiles, crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes revealing his age. He’s handsome for how much older he is than me, and I can’t suppress a flutter in my stomach as he comes back toward me.
His hand hovers over his coat, his eyes catching mine and holding me in a trance for a moment before he turns away. “Thank you, Kimberly. I hope this won’t take long.”
It’ll be an hour at the very least with how wet his coat is, but it’s better than him staying the entire night. I really can’t have a stranger in my house like this, especially not one who is making my stomach swirl and my legs weak. I want to accuse him of making me feel like a high schooler with a crush, but that isn’t his fault. I’m the one who is allowing my mind to go there.
I lock the front door before hurrying after Avraam, the cold air putting goosebumps on my arms that I can’t rub away. I need to find the heater and turn it on, but it might very well be in the basement, and I’m not sure I want to go back down there until morning.
“Oh, perfect,” Avraam says as the dryer rumbles to life. “Thirty years and she still works like a charm.” He turns it off.
The way he speaks sends a chill through me. The goosebumps rise higher, making it impossible for me to hide the way I feel as Avraam peels his shirt off, tossing it into the dryer with his coat.
His torso is fully tattooed with intricate black images and Russian script. Some of them are quite old, but other seem fresh, like they were done just last week. There’s probably a lifetime of stories in that ink, but I doubt I’ll get to hear any of them.
That doesn’t stop me from admiring his body, though. I have to take a small step backward to get the full picture, my eyes scanning his thick muscles and wondering how it’s possible for a man to get that built. He exists without an ounce of fat to cover his washboard abs, and the gutters leading down to his family jewels hint at a strength that can’t be achieved from the gym alone.
I bet he fucks like a beast.
I cross my legs a bit, riding the seam in my jeans as Avraam puts his thumbs into the sides of his pants and begins to ease them down.
I come to my senses when I realize he’s taking his underwear off with them.
