Jasmine by Kathi S. Barton

Author:Kathi S. Barton
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Romance, Erotic romance, BDSM
ISBN: 9781938961755
Publisher: World Castle Publishing
Published: 2012-12-27T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

Tank moved along the side of the house to where the lady lived. He didn’t like changes and this hit changed almost daily. The woman who’d hired him was a little off too, but he could live with that. Money made him overlook a great many weird things. He watched as the lights went out in the house behind him.

He was hot and itchy. He reached under the padding and scratched hard at the sweat rolling down his chest. Tank looked around again and decided that he could take off the cover up now, drop it here, and come back for it later. He pulled his shirt over his head and opened the Velcro as quietly as he could. Soon he had the thick rubber bodysuit off and the chilled night air was caressing his salty skin.

Tank was much smaller than Ginny thought he was. He knew what she was thinking; he’d heard it all before. She thought he was fat and lazy, disgusting, and a bit smelly. He’d added the smelly part by leaving his fat suit on for a few hours every day and not cleaning it up. It gave him more authenticity and besides, it made him laugh when people backed away from him.

But he liked having a disguise. No one came looking for him after a job was done. And he knew that they had. Most of the time when a job was finished the police would figure out who had hired him. Never him, but they certainly found their way back to the employer.

Tank took off his jogging pants and peeled out of the pants under them. He stood in the night air in just his boxers and allowed it to cool him down. He felt the hair on his body shimmer when a breeze moved along his skin while he was still damp. Twenty minutes later he was walking along the house again, this time a much smaller target than he had been.

The woman, Jasmine Waite, was home. He’d seen her come in over an hour ago. There was a male with her, but he didn’t foresee a problem with him. Ginny had told him that he was a drunkard and a druggie and that he was more than likely sharing his drugs with the girl. Tank thought maybe she was wrong about that. In his experience druggies didn’t share well.

A dog barked close. Tank tensed. There was very little he hated more than dogs and was afraid that one more thing had changed that he’d not been told about. The dog’s barking grew fainter and he let go of the breath that he was holding.

He’d been doing a job up north when this little piss-ant of a dog had come out of nowhere and tore him up. The little fucker had bitten him so many times that he’d had to have stitches. He grinned. He’d hunted down the dog a few weeks later and killed him. A long and slow death that

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