Mischievously Mine by Leigh W. Stuart

Mischievously Mine by Leigh W. Stuart

Author:Leigh W. Stuart [Stuart, Leigh W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-949090-33-8
Publisher: City Owl Press
Published: 2019-05-21T04:00:00+00:00


* * *

An excruciating pressure in his skull, as if there was a huge hand wrapped around his head, squeezing him like fruit, was the first thing Cooper noticed.

His eyelids glared an angry red. His blinds must be open. He tried to open his eyes, but they were gummed shut. Why was it bright? He always closed his blinds. Rubbing his face, he managed to get his eyes partly open. In the blur of his surroundings, he made out something perched on his chest. His eyes popped wide open.

Lizard!

With a surprised cry, he swatted at it. It kept its claws in his shirt, teeth exposed and neck flared. He yelled and threw himself backwards, but the toothy reptile clung to his chest. A hard swipe knocked it to the floor, where it rolled to a stop in exactly the same flared, biting position as before.

Sandra had duct taped a plastic lizard to his chest. Nice.

He groaned, the pain in his head returning with reinforcements as the adrenaline in his system faded. Sandra’s living room came into focus, flooded with the light of day. Sunlight pierced his eyeballs with tiny spears and set his brain on fire.

Sandra on the sofa last night. Great balls of fucking fire. He had rolled with Sandra on her sofa until she pushed him off, right when he dared to dream she would be his for a few minutes.

He thought he had said something stupid, but it was hazy after he started kissing her. And touching her. See-through, lace panties.

Fuck me.

He checked his watch.

Half past nine. He should have been at work an hour ago. Well, he could pick up donuts on the way and eat a couple for lunch, too, to make up for lost time.

There was a note for him on the back of the plastic lizard. He wasn’t sure why she had such a great toy, but he was tempted to borrow it for decorating the inside of his fridge at work.

Cooper,

There’s a care package for you on the counter. Sorry the Austrians took advantage of your wimpy tolerance for homemade brews from the Old World. Key to the door is on the table. Let yourself out and hide it under the pink quartz.

Sandra



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