Annabelle

 

I opened my mouth as soon as his lips made contact. His tongue eagerly and aggressively dove into my mouth, tangling with my own as he explored me.

 

He’s good with his tongue, I thought, and wondered if he was the kind of man who kissed down below, too.

 

He tasted of beer and something a little salty. The beer wasn’t great, but whatever the underlying flavor was, the one that was just him, tasted good. His hands gripped my hips harshly. They were thick and large, big enough to pick me up and toss me wherever they wanted me.

 

The thought was enough to send a ripple of desire through me. I was getting lost in lust and I was just fine with that. I had my reasons for coming out tonight and he was meeting the criteria of all of them. But if I looked deep and really thought of that, that wasn’t the reason I was letting him stick his tongue down my throat or slide his hand from my hip around the front of me, slipping between our bodies to rub between my legs over my tight pants.

 

There was something else about him, something that pulled me closer. It was almost a familiarity, like I knew him from somewhere else before, but I wasn’t sure how that could or would be true.

 

And ultimately, I didn’t care. All I cared about was how firmly he rubbed between my legs, how insistent his mouth and tongue were, and how wet I was growing.

 

When he broke the kiss, I was breathless and so hot I thought I might burst into flames. “You’re a hell of a kisser,” I managed to get out with effort. I let out a ragged breath. “And those hands—”

 

He continued to rub me over my jeans and I let out a cry that he quickly swallowed with a kiss just as passionate and insistent as the first. When we broke, he grinned cockily at me and asked, “What about my hands?”

 

I groaned as he applied more pressure, making me grow wetter by the second. I definitely needed something to help with that and I needed it soon.

 

“They’re so big,” I finally got out, sounding like I was in a bad porno or something, but I didn’t care. His hands felt like heaven and I couldn’t be held accountable for the things I said when he was doing things like that to my body. “They look like they could handle anything.”

 

I managed to get my eyes open. As I stared up in his deep, dark eyes, I saw a fire lit in them. It burned with the promise of danger and passion both—things I was looking for in equal measure. In a low voice that was little more than a growl, he told me, “They could handle you. Maybe teach you what to do with those fucking curves.”

 

A shudder went through me. “How can a girl say no to a promise like that?” Then I cried out again as he added pressure in just the right spot to rub my clit through the fabric of my pants.

 

His free hand clamped down over my mouth, muffling the sound. He laughed at me. “Easy now, honey. Can’t have you making so much damn noise here. This is a public place after all—unless you’re into voyeurism.”

 

But even as he spoke, he continued to rub me. I thought I might lose my mind and I hadn’t even gotten any damn clothes off yet. Oh yes, he’s definitely what I need tonight, I thought blearily, lost in the feel of him.

 

“Keep touching me like that, and I could probably be persuaded,” I muttered, only half joking.

 

He laughed again and I admitted silently to myself that I liked the sound. It was low and throaty like his speaking tones, but it was also a little lighter, too. Sweeter almost, though I wasn’t sure I would call any part of him sweet.

 

Maybe the way he tastes, I thought lewdly, considering whether or not I wanted to try giving him a little head before the main course. I didn’t usually, but I was down for some dirty things tonight.

 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, sounding amused. But he pulled his hand away, making me groan in frustration. He smirked and me and said, “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll take care of you tonight. But not here, not in front of anyone. Tonight, you’re all mine. No one else gets a piece of you.”

 

I shivered at the possessiveness in his voice, reveled in it. This man was going to make me his tonight and I couldn’t deny that I wanted it. Craved it like I hadn’t craved anything else for quite a while.

 

“Then let’s get out of here,” I murmured against his lips, just barely resisting another kiss.

 

He nodded and I quickly made plans in my head. Though I was all about a good hard fucking from this sexy, dangerous man, I had the feeling I wasn’t all that interested in doing it at his place. I liked the dirty things he could do to me, but I didn’t like the dirty place he might live in.

 

No, I wanted somewhere cleaner. A hotel was out of the question. There were too many faces that would recognize me, that would put the two of us together, realize who he was, and make trouble for me. While I was feeling rebellious and a big part of me wanted my dad to know what it was I was doing—and just who it was I was about to fuck tonight—I didn’t want him walking in on us in the middle of it. And there was just no guarantee that someone at the hotel, assuming they even let me check in, wouldn’t call my father.

 

And I definitely wasn’t doing one of those pay by the hour places. Gross.

 

Which meant I had to think of an alternative. My mind made quick circles as I tried to come up with a place. Mister Tall, Dark, and Fucking Dangerously Sexy had his hand on my ass and was ushering me towards the exit. I had enough forethought to glance around and spot Raquel. She was flirting with some guy who had a piercing through his lip and was wearing a torn band t-shirt. She caught my eye and I winked at her. She laughed and waved me off before returning to her own pick for the night.

 

The guy behind me squeezed my ass, a quick reminder of what his hands looked like and what they were planning on doing to me. I bit my lip in anticipation and felt myself hurrying up the steps to the door. I flashed a wicked grin at the bouncer, who only raised an eyebrow at the guy behind me. He apparently didn’t have a problem with our leaving together because he gave a nod and let us go without even a bat of his eye.

 

We broke through into the fresh air and I paused long enough to take a deep breath of it. It was a little cool tonight, just enough to slide across the sweat coating my skin and send a shiver through me.

 

“You got a car tonight, baby?” the sexy man behind me asked, pulling me back into him by the hips so I was pressed along the length of his body. I felt his hard chest muscles at my back and his crotch against my rear. Something hard and bulging slid against my ass, telling me he was most definitely ready for me. I pictured how he’d looked and hoped that he was as big as I was imagining him to be.

 

“Not tonight,” I murmured as his hands left my hips and traveled up my sides and around to the front until they reached the underside of my breasts. I felt his hands move up until they cupped each of my tits. He squeezed and I groaned, pushing my chest farther into his hands. “Guess you’ll have to drive.”

 

“Suits me,” he answered, his breath hot along the column of my neck. “Hope you’re good with riding a motorcycle.”

 

I let out a quick breath, then managed to get out, “I’ll hold on tight. I promise.”

 

I heard him basically growl in my ear. He nipped at my lobe, then pulled away from me so he could walk in front of me and lead me towards his bike. I was so hazy with lust that I could barely walk in a straight line. I needed him desperately now and groaned at the thought of waiting until the drive was over.

 

And I still haven’t decided where we’re going to do it, I remembered.

 

He threw one leg over his motorcycle, straddling it, then looked back at me. “Well, c’mon, baby. I promise you’ll love riding.”

 

I shuddered, then walked over to him purposefully. “Oh, trust me, I do. I ride all night long.”

 

He laughed at me, though I could tell by the fierce look in his eyes that he liked what I was saying, that it had amped up his desire a notch or two higher. I walked over to him and put my hands on his broad shoulders to brace myself. Then I threw one leg over and straddled the bike. I settled onto it as close behind him as I could, pressing my breasts against his back tightly and squeezing my legs along his. Letting my hands slip down from his shoulders, I wound them around his middle, pulling myself even closer. I let them slide over his well-muscled chest, pleased to find his abs rock hard beneath his t-shirt. My hands dipped lower until I found his crotch and those tight leather pants. I heard him groan softly as the palm of my right hand slid over his crotch where his package was bulging with the need to be free.

 

“You feel like a real handful,” I murmured breathily against his ear.

 

“Baby, I’m probably more than you can handle.”

 

Sensing the challenge, I grinned. “I think I’m up for it. It’s important to try new things, to learn.”

 

Instead of answering right away, he kick-started the bike. It revved up beneath me, coming alive, and I was surprised to find the vibrations of the bike shot up along my body like sparks. I shuddered as the rumbling bike beneath me worked against my bundle of nerves, sending unexpected shocks of pleasure through me.

 

“Oh god,” I murmured, still pressed against him, my hand clutching at his cock. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

 

He let out a husky laugh. “Baby, you have no idea what you’re getting into tonight. You wanna do it here in the parking lot? Or are we going somewhere?”

 

Barely, beneath the hazy blur of my arousal and pleasure, I focused on where we could go. The pool house.

 

It was separate from the rest of the house, almost a guest house really, that was right by the pool and set off to the side from the main house. It was fully furnished with a small kitchen table, a couch, and most importantly a bed. A large bed with silky sheets and thick pillows.

 

I rattled off the address before I could rethink my choice—there were risks involved, including my father deciding to come out for a late-night swim, though it was unlikely. Ultimately, I didn’t care, though. The place was clean and set off from the rest of the house. It was private enough that we probably wouldn’t be disturbed—and I could make some noise without it echoing down the halls to my father’s room.

 

My sexy biker revved the motorcycle again, sending another wash of pleasure through me, and we took off through the night, one of my hands holding myself to him while the other continued to palm him through his pants.

 

***

 

We arrived and I finally realized the biggest problem with my plan—the sound of the motorcycle. Of course, I was wrapped up in a haze of lust so it didn’t seem like all that big of a problem really. The vibrations of the bike had nearly pushed me over the edge and as a result I was so needy that I was trembling with it. Thanks to my hand job on the way over, my sexy biker wasn’t doing much better.

 

He pulled the bike to a stop a ways away from the main house, making me wonder whether or not he had considered my dilemma. I hadn’t told him I still lived with my father, but he’d guessed that I was young so there was a good chance that he had assumed as much.

 

We got off the bike and his lips were on mine in an instant. His tongue plundered my mouth as his hands raked across my body, squeezing my ass and sliding between my thighs in a promise that I would not be forgotten in the pleasure department.

 

I might have let him take me then and there in the grass on the front lawn, but I had enough sense left to know that would definitely be a mistake.

 

Pulling on what restraint I had in me, I pushed his hands away from me and started backing up. I gave him a sultry look and curled my index finger at him in a come-hither motion. His dark eyes flashed and he stalked after me, a predator coming for his prey.

 

I led him to the pool house, which was dark and closed up. It was locked, but I had a spare key stuck up in the rafters of the overhang. I looked for it hastily. It took me longer than normal because he was fondling my body impatiently and kissing every spot of bare flesh he could find as I searched. His attentions set my body on fire and made it difficult to concentrate on anything, but eventually I found the key and managed to get the door open.

 

He pushed me through instantly, kicking it closed behind him as his hands reached for me again. He went for my clothes, his hands getting a grip on my shirt and stretching it until the tears grew into deep, jagged lines and suddenly, the whole thing was in shreds at my feet. My eyes went wide as I glanced down at my exposed hot pink bra, barely restraining my large breasts.

 

“Oh, my god,” I managed to get out, and then his hands were on me.

 

He cupped my breasts and squeezed them roughly, not to the point where they hurt, but rather to the point that drove me just shy of absolutely crazy. It was like his large, thick hands were designed specifically for my breasts, my body.

 

“They’re so perky, so firm,” he muttered as he tugged down the cups, holding them so my breasts fell out, my nipples already hardening. “I knew they were fucking real. I love real tits, baby.”

 

I let out a moan and then gasped as his thick fingers pinched at my nipples, hardening them further. “God, I love those hands. I want them everywhere on me.”

 

“Fuck, babe, there isn’t a place on you I’m not going to touch.”

 

I shuddered. His hands left my breasts, which would have been disappointing if I didn’t realize that they’d dropped down to the waistband of my jeans to undo the front of them. He popped the button and yanked down the zipper. My panties were lacy and the same hot pink color as my bra, just barely enough to cover my most intimate region.

 

He jerked down my jeans, but they were so tight they stopped at my upper thighs. This only bothered him a little, however, because it granted him access to my panties.

 

“I’ll bet you’ve got a pretty pussy, too,” he told me, and a shock of pleasure went through me at the word pussy. It was dirty and vulgar and not what anyone else would ever say to me. It might have been offensive coming from anyone else in any other circumstances, but not here, not now, and not when it came from his full lips.

 

When his hand went to my panties, I felt his fingers slip down the front of the flimsy, lacy material. “Yes,” I hissed out, groaning as his fingers found the wetness that had soaked through the thin material, stroking my lips through the fabric. “Right there.”

 

He stroked me several times before pulling away. I whimpered as he did so. “No, don’t stop.” My eyes fluttered open to see him staring at me hungrily and just as cockily as he had in the bar earlier.

 

“Don’t worry, I’m going to make you fucking explode tonight, baby,” he promised me in a voice that was like gravel. “But I need you out of those fucking clothes first. So take them off. All of them. I want to watch.”

 

Color raced to my cheeks. Usually when I got to the sex portion of the night we were so worked up that doing anything like a striptease or anything of the like was out of the question. We had to dive into the main course right away.

 

And I wouldn’t have minded that in the slightest tonight, but I found myself thrilled by his order, too. Definitely an order, I thought, mildly surprised to discover that I really appreciated being ordered around by him. He can give me any orders he wants.

 

Trembling with need, I did as I was told. The first thing I did was kick off my boots and my socks. Next I went to my bra, unclasping it in the back so I could remove it fully from my shoulders. He watched me hungrily as I did so, and I was pleased to discover that he removed his own shirt when my bra had fallen to the floor. For a second I just stared at the hard plains of his chest, his muscles well defined and clearly rock hard. He was all muscle and the thought that he could basically do whatever he wanted with me sent a strange sort of thrill through me.

 

Dangerous, I thought, licking my lips. He’s the kind of dangerous I was looking for tonight.

 

“Keep going,” he commanded when he’d noticed that I’d stopped to watch him. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll be out of these clothes, too.”

 

The promise sent a shiver of want through me and I did as he said, continuing to remove my clothes. I idly wondered if half the reason he wanted me to take my own clothes off had anything to do with how tight my jeans were. They were damn near a second skin and I had to wiggle them down my thighs. He watched me for a while as I did so; I could feel his eyes on me. Then I heard him command, “Stop.”

 

I looked up at him in surprise. “But I thought you wanted me to.”

 

He grinned at me. He’d gotten his belt off and his pants were undone. I saw dark curls showing beneath the leather, telling me he probably wasn’t wearing any underwear. “Oh, I do. Definitely. I just want you to turn around so I can see that lovely ass of yours while you bend over.”

 

I flushed again, but eagerly did as he bid all the same. I turned away from him then began to slide my pants the rest of the way down. I wiggled my ass deliberately as I did so, giving him a nice view. I was grateful that my panties were a thong, the lace little more than a triangle above my cheeks where it disappeared between them.

 

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured, encouraging me to keep going. “I wanna see your whole beautiful body.”

 

When I finally stepped out of my pants, I was startled to feel his hands snake around my hips and dip into the front of my panties. I let out a moan when I felt his thick fingers slide between the moist lips, turned on beyond belief and in some desperate need of the attentions he was giving me.

 

“I love how wet you are. I could feel it soaked through your panties, how much you need this,” he murmured in my ear. He pressed himself against me from behind and I realized instantly that he’d finished taking off his pants and that he was hard as a rock. His bare cock slid along my backside, telling me he was definitely big.

 

“I do need this,” I answered him, my voice coming close to a begging sound. I didn’t care. I did need this. More than anything in that moment.

 

“Good,” he told me as he inserted one thick finger between my folds, searching out my core.

 

I made a gasping sound as his finger entered me. I was even more grateful for those large hands than I had been before, his fingers opening my folds like a flower as he pushed in deeper.

 

“Mm, warm and wet. Do you want me to taste you first? Or should I just drive my cock home?”

 

My whole body shivered and I wondered which I’d want more, his tongue or his cock. I decided quickly as he added a second finger. “Let’s see if your mouth does more than talk,” I challenged.

 

He pulled his fingers away, much to my disappointment, but I wasn’t disappointed for long. He swiveled me around to face him, then jerked my panties down my legs quickly. With one hard shove, he thrust me back onto the bed, causing me to bounce slightly with the sudden fall. A laugh started in my throat, but died on my lips when I caught sight of his large, throbbing manhood.

 

“Oh god,” I whispered, my eyes widening slightly at the sight of him. “You’re huge.”

 

He smiled cockily at me and now I knew why. He had every right to be confident. His body was scored like rock, the muscles carved as though from stone. His hair was dark as night and thick; his eyes were deep dark pools of desire. And his cock was bigger than anything I’d had yet.

 

“Not scared, are you, baby?” he asked as he came towards me.

 

I gave a quick shake of my head.

 

“You sure?” he questioned, his tone teasing as he settled himself between my legs. Except he was throwing one leg over either of his shoulders and holding my thighs with his hands. “You sure you still want this?”

 

“Please,” I said, and this time I was definitely begging. “I don’t just want this. I need this.”

 

“Good. Right answer,” he told me, then he jerked my hips up so my ass was off the bed and pressed his face between my legs. “Because I have every intention of making you scream tonight.”

 

Then he licked me.

 

His tongue slid across my already slick folds, making me let out a quick cry. I felt him smile against my lips as he kissed me there. He began to tongue me like we were making out, his lips sealed against mine, his tongue between their folds and delving into my core. I was gasping in wonton pleasure, my hands gripping the sheets on either side of me as I let the pleasure roll over me. It was building quickly as he dipped in and out of me, his tongue skillful and quick, but also thorough. I felt him against my inner walls and lapping at my lips when he pulled out. He tongue-fucked me better than anyone else ever had and it made my desire bubble up until I knew it would overflow.

 

“Oh god,” I called out, my voice rising in volume as I felt a thumb join in on the action. “Oh god, please!”

 

He began to rub my clit, lazily at first, then with growing urgency. He found a speed that both thumb and tongue matched, each one pushing me closer and closer to my own undoing. Then he paused.

 

Wild-eyed, I sat up and looked at him. I couldn’t believe he had stopped! I was so close, I was throbbing with need, quivering with desire and the end was right there in sight. All he had to do was press his face between my thighs again. It would probably only take one, maybe two more strokes before I unwound like a yo-yo.

 

“Don’t stop!” I cried.

 

He grinned at me, his lips moist. “Matt,” he told me, his eyes flashing.

 

I frowned. “What?”

 

“When you scream, when I make you come and you scream loud enough for the neighbors to hear, I want you to be screaming out my name: Matt.”

 

And before I could say anything more, or worry about the possibility that the neighbors might actually hear us, he pushed his face back down between my legs. His tongue made its way back between my lips and I felt his thumb flicking at my small bundle of nerves. I groaned. My hands went to his hair this time, holding him there, keeping him for fear that he might stop again.

 

His hair was just as thick and silky as I imagined, the texture wonderful in my hands. As his mouth and hands worked on me, I felt my pleasure build up again. It was driving me crazy, driving me mad until I thought I would lose my damn mind. Then it broke.

 

“Matt!” I screamed. I felt him there still, lapping a couple of times, then he was gone. I was still reeling, lost in my release when he settled himself once again between my legs, this time his hips angling towards mine.

 

I was just barely starting to come back to myself when I felt his head sliding along opening. My eyes popped open and I saw my sexy Reaper’s Bloom, Matt, leaning over me, his hands holding my knees open wide and his cock just barely nestled between my still wet lips.

 

“Hold on, baby,” he told me, gritting his teeth. “The night’s not over yet.”

 

He plunged inside me in one swift thrust, filling me up until there was no more room inside of me. I screamed again, his name like a prayer and a curse on my lips.

 

“Oh, fuck!” he yelled when he was fully sheathed within my hot core, his length pulsing against my stretched walls. “You’re so goddamned tight, baby. Do you feel how deep I am inside you?”

 

Did I ever! “Yes,” I told him, breathless. “I don’t think there’s any more room.”

 

He groaned. “Good.” Then he started moving. He pulled out of me slowly until the head of him slipped out. I felt the loss and wriggled my body in an effort to bring him back. He grinned cheekily down at me, but he obliged. I felt his head at my entrance once more, then he was spreading my lips open and sliding into me once again. “Fuck,” he said when he once more bottomed out inside me. “God, you’re tight. And hot.”

 

He began to find a rhythm to his thrusts, slow at first. He would pull out of me carefully so I felt each inch as it slipped out from between my lips and the first few times he’d pulled the head out, too. It would slip from me coated in my own wetness, then he’d press it back between my lips and fill me again. Over and over he did this, until finally he began to increase his speed. When he did that, he’d leave just the head in so he could thrust faster into my waiting core.

 

“I knew you’d have a pretty pussy,” he panted above me, his large hands gripping my hips so hard that I was pretty sure there would be bruises tomorrow. I didn’t care. “I didn’t know it’d be this tight, though. This slick. Fuck, tell me you want me.”

 

I obliged easily. “I want you, Matt. I saw you across the bar tonight, felt your gaze raking over me, like you were undressing me with your eyes—”

 

“I was,” he interjected as his hips crashed against mine.

 

“—and I knew I had to have you. I wanted you buried inside me.” I gasped as he continued to thrust into my waiting body.

 

“Buried in your pussy?” he questioned between thrusts.

 

“Buried in my pussy,” I answered, flushing a deeper shade of crimson than I already was at saying pussy to him like this. It was dirty and it made me hotter.

 

“Like this?” he asked me just as the pushed himself all the way in, filling me up until there was no more room left.

 

I cried out and said, “Yes! Yes, just like that!”

 

He continued to plunge inside me over and over again, his pacing seeming to increase with each thrust. As he moved within me, building himself towards his own release and what was starting to seem like my second, his hands left my hips. They traveled up my midsection and farther, caressing my flesh with his calloused, rough hands until he reached the underside of my breasts. He slid up them slowly, then began to cup them, steadying them as he thrust into me. He squeezed at them and I groaned, letting him know that I liked it, that I liked his hands on me. He pinched at my nipples and rolled them between his fingers.

 

I covered his hands with mine, encouraging their touch. “I love your hands,” I murmured, and he hummed appreciatively in response.

 

His pace continued to increase until I thought I might go crazy from it. He filled me up so completely, so perfectly, that I was beginning to think that our two bodies were just made for one another.

 

He pressed into me and murmured how beautiful I was, how good I felt wrapped around him. He told me that he loved my tits and that I was exactly what he’d needed tonight.

 

Which was one hundred percent what I’d been thinking, too.

 

His thrusts grew erratic and he groaned. “God, baby, I’m coming!” He pressed his hips against mine, pushing himself as deep inside me as he could. I felt him pulse and twitch as he released himself into my waiting core, filling me to the brim.

 

I held him tightly, helping him to ride out his orgasm. He collapsed beside me, rolling off of me so he wouldn’t crush me with his weight. I cuddled up to him, not sure if he was into that sort of thing after sex, and laid my head against his shoulder. He didn’t protest. In fact, he wrapped a muscular arm around me, pulling me closer.

 

I didn’t mistake this tender gesture as love or anything else like that, but it felt nice in the moment and it was a nice way to end our pleasurable encounter. I fell asleep like that.

 

***

 

The next day, streams of sunlight filtering in through the pool house window woke me. I was tangled up in the bed sheets and I was most decidedly alone. I paused a moment to make sure, listening for any telltale signs of someone showering or in the kitchen. Nothing.

 

Sitting up revealed that I was most definitely sore in the best possible way. I smiled at the memory of my hot sexual encounter. I was a little miffed that he hadn’t stayed until morning, but then it wasn’t like I’d been intending to make him breakfast or anything. That was the whole point. I’d wanted someone who wasn’t looking for a girl to settle down with. Not a woman who was going to make him breakfast in the morning or clean his house or carry his children. Just someone to work out his frustrations on.

 

It suited me into the ground, and though I would have liked him to be there this morning—if only for a wonderful round two—I wasn’t upset, really, that he wasn’t. I’d gotten what I wanted and I could only imagine he had, too.

 

I got out of bed and padded into the bathroom to get cleaned up. The bathroom was thankfully stocked, set up to accommodate anyone who might be a guest here. I brushed my teeth, then started the shower. As I got in, stepping under the spray and immediately getting my hair wet, I began to wonder if I’d made enough noise to get my father’s attention. On the one hand, that had kind of been the whole point. What was a night of rebellion if no one knew about it? On the other hand, it was worth noting I’d have a lot less to deal with if he didn’t know about it.

 

I wasn’t sure which I wanted more, but decided quickly that either one would be all right with me.

 

I washed my hair thoroughly and scrubbed my body clean. I didn’t want to smell like that bar, and smelling like sex probably wasn’t any better. When I was clean, I got out and went to the closet to see if I’d left anything to wear lying around. I did not want to wear my things from last night. What was the point of a shower if you were just going to throw on something dirty right after?

 

I checked the closet and found it had a few towels, a robe, and some bathing suits I was pretty sure I hadn’t worn since high school. I chose a bathing suit, because if my dad happened to catch me—like he was going to be around—I could explain away my being outside and my wet hair in one fell swoop. The bikini was a little small—definitely from high school. But it didn’t matter. Dad wouldn’t even notice.

 

Not that he’s going to be paying me any attention, I thought sullenly.

 

My wild night had been everything I’d wanted and more, but it didn’t change facts. Dad was still ruler of the house and I had no means of getting out. Top that off with the fight and the fact that he had a nasty habit of ignoring me for a few days after having a fight with me, it was still a miserable world I lived in.

 

“And on that happy note…” I muttered to myself.

 

I headed into the house, fully expecting to find my dad sitting at the kitchen table sipping at coffee and leaving his whole wheat toast and egg whites untouched. But the place was empty. I frowned, then found a note tapped to the fridge.

 

It was from the maid and it informed me she was out grocery shopping, but would be back around ten. It was only seven, and that meant that the house was completely empty.

 

“I hate this place.”