much as you clean it, Miller.”
“I haven’t cleaned it since I fucked you with it.”
“Yes you have... Miller? Would you kill me?”
“Yeah, I’m going to fuck you to death with my gun.”
I shake my head and roll my eyes. Getting a straight answer out of this man is a challenge, to say the least. Suddenly, my attention is diverted by a reporter on TV with breaking news.
A local woman has been missing for two days. Her car was found parked in an alley behind a popular boutique in the Louisville, KY area.
Police state her personal belongings were still located in the front passenger seat of the car. They do not believe robbery was a motive, but rather that this was a kidnapping. Police are unsure at this time whether the perpetrator could possibly be someone who knows the victim, or if this is just a case of her being in the wrong place at the right time.
They are warning women to lock their car doors when out commuting and to be aware of their surroundings.
I’m certain Miller knows something about this missing woman so I begin to fish.
“You mentioned we are going somewhere tonight; where?”
“Diego’s club. Wear something sexy because the mother fucker can’t seem to keep his eyes off of you. There isn’t anything I love doing more than making him eat his heart out because he can’t have you.”
“”That guy is too much of a player for me. I don’t know how Selena does it—being with a man who fucks somebody different every night.”
“Diego is a pimp, girl. You can’t have a stable if you don’t fuck your women; it’s how he keeps them bonded to him.”
“I’m not cut out for that shit; I’m too jealous.”
“What are you doing even debating it?”
“I’m not debating it—just making an observation.”
“Keep your fucking observations to yourself, Stormy.”
By now, he is glaring at me as if waiting for an answer. I make my way into the shower for self-preservation’s sake. Nothing I say right now is going to be right. That’s just the nature of the beast when it comes to Miller. Anytime another man is brought up, he gets pissed. Jealous doesn’t even begin to describe this man. He’s crazy and I have no intentions of crossing him. I’m much too busy with making sure I get my training right so he doesn’t kill me. The thought of dying isn’t something I relish even if it is death by pleasure or, as Miller said, being fucked to death with a Glock.
Chapter Two
Black Rose
To say I’m a contradiction in terms would be a gross understatement, and that’s putting it mildly.
Though I don a well tailored suit by day, I am just as content padding around my mansion barefoot in nothing but a pair of jeans, usually unbuttoned for the sake of comfort. You see, though I was raised in the upper echelon of society, I was born with a trait which cannot be learned nor acquired. I am a born ‘Predator!’ Once I have tracked my prey, I will stop at nothing to attain that which I crave.
As fate would have it, I have raised my nostrils in the night air, filled with the promise of sensuality, and gotten a whiff of the prey I desire. Her name is Melanie and the fact that Melanie has a son only makes her that much more desirable.
I am convinced a child born with my DNA is destined to become a serial killer. Though I have been able to hone my craft of taking others’ lives and steer my compulsion in a positive direction, I have always had a thirst for blood. Thus, I have no doubt a child born of my loins will carry the same trait. Tommy offers me the chance to have an heir and to be normal, or at least as normal as one can be in this fucked up world I inhabit.
Watching Melanie on surveillance is causing a concupiscence within me to take her but she is such a fragile little thing and it is necessary to gradually introduce her to my deviant desires. They will all be unleashed on her in due time but, until then, I still have needs. Though she is somewhat meeting my lust for
“I haven’t cleaned it since I fucked you with it.”
“Yes you have... Miller? Would you kill me?”
“Yeah, I’m going to fuck you to death with my gun.”
I shake my head and roll my eyes. Getting a straight answer out of this man is a challenge, to say the least. Suddenly, my attention is diverted by a reporter on TV with breaking news.
A local woman has been missing for two days. Her car was found parked in an alley behind a popular boutique in the Louisville, KY area.
Police state her personal belongings were still located in the front passenger seat of the car. They do not believe robbery was a motive, but rather that this was a kidnapping. Police are unsure at this time whether the perpetrator could possibly be someone who knows the victim, or if this is just a case of her being in the wrong place at the right time.
They are warning women to lock their car doors when out commuting and to be aware of their surroundings.
I’m certain Miller knows something about this missing woman so I begin to fish.
“You mentioned we are going somewhere tonight; where?”
“Diego’s club. Wear something sexy because the mother fucker can’t seem to keep his eyes off of you. There isn’t anything I love doing more than making him eat his heart out because he can’t have you.”
“”That guy is too much of a player for me. I don’t know how Selena does it—being with a man who fucks somebody different every night.”
“Diego is a pimp, girl. You can’t have a stable if you don’t fuck your women; it’s how he keeps them bonded to him.”
“I’m not cut out for that shit; I’m too jealous.”
“What are you doing even debating it?”
“I’m not debating it—just making an observation.”
“Keep your fucking observations to yourself, Stormy.”
By now, he is glaring at me as if waiting for an answer. I make my way into the shower for self-preservation’s sake. Nothing I say right now is going to be right. That’s just the nature of the beast when it comes to Miller. Anytime another man is brought up, he gets pissed. Jealous doesn’t even begin to describe this man. He’s crazy and I have no intentions of crossing him. I’m much too busy with making sure I get my training right so he doesn’t kill me. The thought of dying isn’t something I relish even if it is death by pleasure or, as Miller said, being fucked to death with a Glock.
Chapter Two
Black Rose
To say I’m a contradiction in terms would be a gross understatement, and that’s putting it mildly.
Though I don a well tailored suit by day, I am just as content padding around my mansion barefoot in nothing but a pair of jeans, usually unbuttoned for the sake of comfort. You see, though I was raised in the upper echelon of society, I was born with a trait which cannot be learned nor acquired. I am a born ‘Predator!’ Once I have tracked my prey, I will stop at nothing to attain that which I crave.
As fate would have it, I have raised my nostrils in the night air, filled with the promise of sensuality, and gotten a whiff of the prey I desire. Her name is Melanie and the fact that Melanie has a son only makes her that much more desirable.
I am convinced a child born with my DNA is destined to become a serial killer. Though I have been able to hone my craft of taking others’ lives and steer my compulsion in a positive direction, I have always had a thirst for blood. Thus, I have no doubt a child born of my loins will carry the same trait. Tommy offers me the chance to have an heir and to be normal, or at least as normal as one can be in this fucked up world I inhabit.
Watching Melanie on surveillance is causing a concupiscence within me to take her but she is such a fragile little thing and it is necessary to gradually introduce her to my deviant desires. They will all be unleashed on her in due time but, until then, I still have needs. Though she is somewhat meeting my lust for
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