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A girl like her on my arm and in my bed every night?
That is living. It’s the life I want the longer I keep myself under the spell of her picture.
“I can’t kill her,” I reason aloud to myself. “But I can rescue her. Save her from being killed, I mean…”
Save her from being killed by you? What a brilliant idea, chief.
It’s all I can think of on the fly, and almost against my own will, it seems. My boxers are yanked down in seconds, my hand greedily pumping my already stiff organ as I growl with satisfaction.
She makes me feel her age all over again, the same sense of wonder mixed with need and a hardness to match.
Having her look at me and showing her what I have for her, it’s enough to set my aching cock twitching violently with each stroke.
“Ohhhh… Fuuuuccckkkk!!!”
I can’t hold it any longer. Moaning aloud, my own legs shudder as I stand in my kitchen, yanking off to a picture of a girl I’ve been hired to kill.
“It’s perfect!” I decide aloud. “Once she falls into my arms after I rescue her, I mean.”
Hey, it’s my fantasy, I’ll play it how I want.
But tonight?
The only real question I have for myself is, can I wait until tonight?
CHAPTER 3
Stephanie
Bath steaming, my own juices not far behind after a half hour and a couple of glasses of red wine help my brain to fully relax.
Something in me feels like it’s wound too tight, a part of me that can’t relax, as if something terrible or absolutely amazing is about to happen.
Wine isn’t my go-to thing, but it does give me the confidence to remind myself aloud as I study myself undressing in the full-length mirrored walls of my bathroom.
“First man you see, huh?”
Sure. Why not? As long as he’s not some crazed killer or something.
I set my glass down, giggling to myself and calling time on the wine idea. I could end up doing something extra stupid, like calling a male escort if this feeling keeps up.
I tell myself I’ll feel much better after taking care of things myself and only just settle into my suds that are by now, the perfect temperature, when the front doorbell chimes loudly, making me freeze in a panic.
The heavy knock that follows it sees me leap from the bath, covering myself in a silk robe that instantly clings to everything I’m trying to cover up.
My mind does backflips as I experience what it feels like to be totally alone. Daddy being away is nothing new, but it hits me that I’ve never been without at least one or two staff.
I’ve never felt so vulnerable, so… unprotected.
Daddy would let himself back in if it was him, and no one else would be able to get past the security team downstairs without his say-so.
So who or what?
There’s only one way to find out. The second knock once I’m near the door sounds so loud, so strong, I feel like I’m doing the stupidest thing by opening it.
Until I see just who’s knocking, that is.
That perfect man? The kind a girl like me needs right now more than ever?
