Page 3 of Beautifully Deranged

"How are the grandkids?" I ask. They are his pride and joy.

His face brightens instantly. "They're doing well. The youngest just started preschool last week. Already giving the teacher a hard time."

I let out a small laugh. "Sounds like a handful."

"She is, but it’s cute."

"Enjoy it while it lasts," I hum. "They grow up and become grumpy teenagers fast."

Then you stop loving them when they’re no longer moldable or how you always imagined they’d be. But hey, that’s just my father.

"Ain’t that the truth."

"Well, give them a hug from me," I tell him.

"Will do. You have a good one, Miss Lola."

"You too."

I ride up to my floor, my fingers tapping against my thigh. When the doors slide open, I notice the package sitting neatly outside my door.

Right on time.

I grab the box and walk into my apartment. I toe off my sneakers, stretching my aching legs. Damn, my muscles are sore.

Tearing the box open, I pull out one of the tiny cameras.

He’s not home.

But if I get caught…

My face is flushed from the run, hair messy, lips dry. No. I need to look the part. I strip out of my sweat-dampened clothes and slip on a black dress instead. I slide into high heels and tie my hair into a high ponytail. Grabbing the cameras, I drop them into my purse.

Well, if I get caught, at least he might be tempted to pin me down and fuck me. Not pin me down and call the police.

I managed to get the keys to his place without him even knowing. He dropped them one morning while coming back from his run. Just a little slip. Just a quick, careless moment. A day later, I had my copy. I returned the keys with an innocent smile, claiming I found them on our floor.

And now, as I stand in front of his door, I don’t need to fumble with any locks. My hands tremble with anticipation as I move through his apartment. I take in the space, every detail telling me more about him.

I plant the hidden cameras quickly. Behind the picture frame on the wall. Under the couch cushions. Above the doorframe where it would be nearly impossible to notice.

Except for the bathroom. No. I don’t touch that. I don’t need to invade everything. He deserves that little sliver of space. The rest? All mine.

I reach for the pillow on his bed, dragging it to my face. The smell is intoxicating. My whole body reacts to it. My head spins. My thighs tighten with the need to feel him. I slip my hand between my legs. The wetness is instant. Soon I’ll be here. In his bed. With him. He’ll smell like me, and I’ll smell like him. Breathless, I pull back, reluctantly tearing myself away from the pillow and removing my hand from my pussy. But there’s one more thing I need before I leave.

His cologne. I want it.

I reach for the small bottle on his dresser. It’s just a travel-sized bottle. I slip it into my purse.

I don’t stay long. I can’t. I slip back into the hallway and close the door behind me. Every piece of him is in me now. And soon, he’ll have no choice but to let me in.

But then it happens. His eyes. They’re right there, right in front of me. I never planned for this. I didn’t think I’d actually be caught in the act. His gaze locks on mine, sharp and piercing. My throat goes dry.

For a moment, nothing moves. Everything around me feels like it’s suffocating. Time stands still.

Fuck.

?Chapter Three?

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