Chapter 8

EIGHT

BOBBY

T he house sat neatly in front of a manicured lawn. Picture perfect. Blue skies reflected off of each clean pane. For the tenth time, I pulled the printed sheet of paper from my pocket, smoothing out the crumpled edges and checking her address once more.

It was definitely the house.

Now to glimpse the sweet redhead in person.

A man headed into the garage, leaving the door open. His green flecked shirt sat tucked into his work pants, the buttons over his midriff barely holding together. Too much beer, or too little movement. Likely both.

Fucking his pretty wife would clear the gut if he did it the way she seemed to need it.

Waiting until he left was the sensible option, but his nearness added a primal urge to my spying on his wife.

I sidled up to the house and glanced in through a window. There she was, a tumble of red curls tipped over the edge of the sofa. Her fingers pressed into her face.

The car idled in the garage, a stream of fumes evaporating into the morning air. I slipped to the front door and opened it, placing the note I'd written on the floor inside. As quietly as possible, I shut the door again and moved around to the rear of the building. She opened the note as I glanced through the rear kitchen window.

Confusion knitted her brows as she scanned the text, turning the paper over and looking at the word pet I'd scrolled on the front. Ashley turned and opened the door, glancing out toward the garage.

A smile danced on her lips.

Perfect.

My little pet thought her husband was finally fulfilling his duties.

She'd learn soon enough that although she was going to be highly sated by the end of the day, it would have nothing to do with the waste of space who neglected her needs.

After closing the door, she leant against it and pulled her lower lip between her teeth. The sparkle that filled her eyes filled me with satisfaction, my dick hardening at finally seeing her in the flesh. I'd spent days ruminating over my insane plan. Talking myself down.

But seeing her there solidified my notions.

She was perfection made real. Her pyjama bottoms hugged rounded hips, her stomach soft and leading to full breasts. The strappy top she wore displayed hardening nipples, and I wanted to say fuck the plan. To rip the rear door from its hinges and sink my teeth into her skin. To taste her. Would she taste as sweet as she looked?

Ashley disappeared up the stairs, a gleeful skip in her step.

With a chuckle, I made my way to my car.

After lunch, I'd be meeting my pet for the first time. It'd be rude not to bring her a gift.

I'd passed the perfect store on the edge of town…