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What thefuck?
Where her husband’s head should be, lying on the pillow next to hers, there’s another fucking pillow. He, or whoever else is here, purposely angled the pillow so it looks like a body.
Who’s he trying to fool? His wife?
Or me?
Fuck.
The back of my neck tingles as I withdraw several inches to tug my balaclava back in place.
Almost instantly, the eyebrows above her mask pucker.
Can she sense me?
My right ear picks up a moan and I stand fully. It’s a quiet moan but it’s definitely a moan…coming from somewhere else in the house.
What the fuck is going on?
After one last look at the sleeping woman, I follow the sound out of the bedroom and down the hall, stopping next to another open doorway. From my viewpoint, I can only see a wall of shelves lined with books—books wrapped in blank white paper.
Somewhere further in the room, a chair creaks in time with heavy panting.
One hand behind me, gripping the Glock tucked into my waistband, I risk a peek around the doorjamb. Inside, a man’s sitting at an antique white desk, masturbating.
He snuck out of bed, a bed currently occupied by his sexy wife, to jerk it to dimly lit, amateur porn…on the laptop I’m here to take.
Fuuuuck. What am I supposed to do now?
I could wait him out and steal the laptop once he’s done. Chances are this won’t take long. But then what? If it was the wife who hired Cyrus, he’ll just be handing over the same thing I could give her right now.
And if it wasn’t the wife…when will she figure out her husband’s not the man she thinks he is? When it’s too late like it was for my mom?
With his back hunched over as he hastily tugs his cock, the mark moans deeply. “That’s it, baby. Keep fucking yourself just like that. Show me how much you can take.”
He’s talking dirty to a fucking screen when his wife is in the other goddamn room.
Removing my gun, I enter the office.
The woman thrusting a dildo in and out of her pussy uses her free hand to point directly at the camera—atme—and says, “Daddy?” but the mark’s so wrapped up in getting himself off he doesn’t notice.
So this isn’t a low-budget film? It’s happening in real time?
I lift my left hand, and the woman on the screen automatically mirrors the move.
This guy’s not just busting a nut to some internet porn behind his wife’s back, he’s motherfucking cheating.
On God, this bitch better just have a daddy kink. If she’s underage…
With a low groan, the man comes into a hand towel, resting his forehead on his desk.
“Daddy, who’s that?”
Finally, the mark notices something other than his own pleasure, and whips his head my way to spit, “Who the fuck are you?”
When he stands, his dick droops like it’s tired.
He definitely passes out after nutting.
