Amused, Alyssa hugs his neck, then she looks up and says, “He probably figures you can defend yourself against the enormous threat I present.”
Not so sure about that, but I just shake my head and make my way toward the kitchen. “Come on, you faithless little shit. You want some food?”
Scout barks and goes running ahead of me. I don’t know whether or not the girl will follow me, but when I get to the kitchen and grab some food for the bottomless pit that is my canine companion, I see her hanging back in the doorway, watching.
“You like dogs?” I ask, just to make conversation. It’s clear she does, but I figure maybe she’s not as comfortable with silence as I am.
She nods her head, absently drifting a few more inches into the kitchen. “Yeah. We used to have one, but we didn’t have a fence and he liked to sneak out of the house every chance he got. One day he got out and got hit by a car. He was a mutt, too, a rescue. I’m not sure what kind. I think he had some shepherd in him, though.”
“They’re good dogs,” I remark.
“They are,” she agrees. She’s quiet for a minute or two while I get Scout some food and put his bowl on the ground. He acts like he’s never eaten in his life, trying to snatch a bite before I even get it all the way down. “He seems hungry,” she says.
“He’s always hungry,” I explain. “I left a bowl out for him all the time when I first brought him home, but he was eating me out of house and home. The vet told me to just feed him at set times or he’d put on too much weight, but it’s not always easy when I’m working long hours.”
“What do you do?” she asks, drifting a little closer.
“I own a bar in town. Takes up a lot of my time.”
“Oh. That’s cool.” She misses a beat, biting down on her bottom lip. “If you don’t mind me asking, how old are you?”
I flick a glance in her direction. “I said Bri was my twin, didn’t I?”
“Well, yeah, but I don’t know how old Bri is.”
“Know how old her husband is?” I toss back.
Sighing softly, she looks away. A little dejected, she says, “Never mind.”
I shouldn’t mind disappointing her, but I find myself asking, “How old do you think I am?”
“I don’t know, thirty?” she guesses.
“Close.”
She waits for me to tell her. When I don’t, she asks, “Are you really gonna make me guess?”
My lips tilt up in amusement at how impatient she is. “I’m 35,” I tell her.
“Oh, wow,” she murmurs, too open to hide her surprise. “That’s…”
“Just about twice your age, yes.”
“I wasn’t going to say that,” she objects. Looking around, apparently for some sign of another person, she asks, “You live here all by yourself? No wife or kids?”
“Never got around to it.”
“You didn’t want any of that?” she asks.
“I would’ve liked having a couple rugrats running around, but I can’t do that by myself, now, can I?”
She wanders even closer. “Didn’t you want to get married?”
I offer her a mild smile. “What makes you think anyone ever wanted to marry me?”
“I’m sure someone did, sometime,” she says rather dismissively.
I shrug. “Never met the right person, I guess.”
I get Scout some fresh water and watch him finish scarfing down his food, then I let him outside so he can relieve himself before I head to bed.
The prospect of going to bed makes me think of how much I complicated my fucking life tonight. I had no intention of bringing a prisoner back to my house. I’ve gotta open the bar tomorrow, and I don’t know what I’ll do with her while I’m gone. I’m not even sure what I’ll do with her tonight.
I look over at her, absently keeping an eye on Scout like it’s her responsibility. Her back is to me and she’s still wearing that flimsy nightgown since I didn’t give her time to change before we left. She’s bathed in moonlight, same as she was a little bit ago when I first saw her.
Damn, she is pretty. Her honey blonde hair is swept back in a loose braid that hangs halfway down her back. Smooth, shapely legs peek out from beneath her nightgown.
I’m tempted to tell her to take it off again so I can get a better look at her. It’s not like there’s anyone else in the house to see her, and while I gave her a temporary reprieve and decided not to defile her in her own bed, I still plan to get those clothes off and bury my cock deep inside her before I let her sleep tonight.
I wonder if she knows that. Maybe she’s being friendly right now because she thinks she’s getting me on her side. Maybe she thinks I won’t touch her if she’s nice, because she doesn’t know my cock stirs just looking at her standing there in her innocent little nightgown in the moonlight.