Page 65 of Dark Surrender

“This is even nicer than the bathroom in my apartment in New York.”

Brushing my fingertips over the marble counter, I look up and catch my reflection in the mirror above the sink. Just beyond is Dark, his shoulder leaning against the doorframe. His gaze zeros in on my ass.

Spinning on my heel, I point to my nose. “Eyes up here.”

Having been caught, Dark’s attention snaps to my face. “What?”

“You were checking out my ass.”

Growling something under his breath, Dark spins around and gives me his back. Sure, I check out his ass on principle. Tit for tat and all that. It’s hugged nicely in a pair of well-worn jeans. You could bounce cherries off those cheeks and catch them in your mouth.

Ugh.

Fisting both hands at my sides, heat erupts across my face, and I crane my neck back to look at the ceiling. “Can you move?” I grit, needing to get away from him, his back, ass, and this embarrassing moment.

He doesn’t budge. “Can you stop sayin’… ya know.” Dark’s hand flips into the air as if that somehow finishes his sentence.

“No. I don’t know. I saw you… Never mind. We can be friends. Okay? For some reason, you’re the only man I can stand to be around without instantly wanting to rip his dick off.” Well, he and Mama, but that’s beside the point. Mama is sweet, and I don’t find him…

Nope.

Not going there.

“Can we not talk about my dick?”

“What? That was a compliment.”

“Christ, woman. That’s not the fuckin’ point,” Dark grits and leaves. Down the hallway and out the front door he goes. Still standing in the bathroom, I hear it slam shut, and a moment later, there’s a rumble of tailpipes, then the sound of them disappearing as he drives away.

I drag a hand down my face.

What did I do? What did I say?

Shaking my head, I use the facilities, wash my hands, and with an unfamiliar ache in my chest, I unpack my truck. In the living room, I line my pots against one wall to find a home for later. The dirt mess in the back isn’t as bad as I thought. I climb into my truck and scoop the loose mess onto the ground. It doesn’t take long.

My bag and a few boxes in the backseat are the last to go inside. I set them on the floor of my new bedroom, which isn’t much. There’s a twin bed on the floor. When Dark said this was newly renovated, he meant it. This bare mattress is the only furniture in the whole place. Not that I mind. I’ve never gotten a chance to decorate before. It could be fun. Maybe. I don’t know. We’ll see.

In the meantime, I unpack what I need for the bathroom and find homes for it. In the mirror above the sink, I stare into my mismatched eyes, grip my wig, and tug it off my head. Pale, smooth skin and a round dome greet me.

Hooked on a single finger, I dangle the wig in front of my face. “You’re an itchy bitch.” Giving in to temptation, I drop a bundle of fake hair into the black trash bin next to the toilet. It collapses in like a hairy octopus. If octopuses were blonde. Alright. So maybe only sort of octopus-like. Eh. It doesn’t matter. I never have to be blonde again if I don’t want to. I can be anything now. Not what Dad said. Not what Dee needs. Only what I need.

Whatever that is remains a mystery, but here I am.

I have a house… Home… Well, maybe a home. Time will tell on that one.

Pushing Dark and his departure from my mind, I focus on the house and see all there is to see. Then maybe I’ll venture out to get a bite to eat. If I’m up for it.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Dark

I’m a fucking asshole.

An asshole that needs to stay away from Iris.

Iris and that round, luscious ass.

Iris and those stunning eyes.