Descended (The Red Blindfold Book 3) Read Online Free PDF Page B

or parolees that bothered me, it
was the ordinary guys, the single dads.
    There was one in
particular who still popped into my mind when I couldn’t sleep.
Poor bastard.
    That’s what rescuing
Diesel had been about. I didn’t need a psychiatrist to spell it
out. I was proving to myself that I still had a heart. I’d had a
Malamute with one eye until a few months ago, when he’d crushed my
heart by dying after eight years by my side.
    Yeah, adopting a
down-and-out dog usually made me feel better, until it didn’t
anymore. But rescuing a dog was one thing. A woman was a mistake of
monumental proportions.
    As if I didn’t have
enough to worry about, and enough trouble keeping myself in line. Maid’s uniform. Jesus Christ. I’d meant it, too. It had been a fantasy of mine for
years, and now the uniform and the perfect woman just happened to be
in the same very remote house. Serendipity. Or stupidity. Probably
both.
    I stood outside her
door and listened as she ran a bath. Right about now she was peeling
off that ragged t-shirt and stepping out of her panties. Maybe she
was standing in front of the full-length mirror, looking at what I’d
give my entire bank account to lay eyes on.
    When it got quiet I
kept listening, imagining the water covering her naked curves,
flowing between her legs, over her breasts, getting her ready for me.
    No,
Drex. Not for you.
    That was the kind of
thinking that helped me churn through dozens of women every year. Now
that I was done plundering bank accounts, I was blowing through beds.
One would think I’d be satisfied with all the money and pussy I’d
acquired, but I wasn’t. Not even close. It was like throwing
aspirin at an incurable disease and expecting a cure. The wrong
medicine for the wrong man.
    And tonight I was worse
off than ever. It didn’t help that I was out in the middle of
to-hell-and-gone with a woman who was a very beautiful clean slate.
    Of course, she might be
married, though that had never stopped me before. It didn’t matter
who the woman was. If I wanted her I took her, morality be damned.
    And there was something
about this woman I wanted. Bad. She had a combination of defiance and
vulnerability that nailed me where it counted. This was a woman who
could walk around half-naked, casually start a conversation with
drunk bikers, and then go all modest on me when I looked at her too
long.
    Not just unheard of for
Chimayo. Unheard of period. Anywhere on the planet.
    I went out to the
fenced garden and called Diesel. Either she didn’t know her name
yet or she didn’t care that I was calling her. She was too busy
tearing up flowers and tossing the dirt onto a nice new patch of sod.
    But that was okay. Kurt
would understand. He had two little kids who turned my apartment into
a natural disaster whenever they came to visit.
    “Time to get in your
kennel,” I said, taking Diesel firmly by the collar.
    She growled and dug in
her heels, but I’d made an awfully inviting bed out of thick wool
blankets that eventually lured her in. “We’re making progress,”
I said, latching the door. “Good girl.”
    I listened for Blue
Eyes, but all was quiet on the bath front. I wouldn’t think about
what part of that sunbaked body she was scrubbing now.
    I went to the kitchen
and dunked some raw chicken in mustard and olive oil. I could throw
fresh spinach into a pan and sauté it, maybe grill some corn on the
cob. Hopefully Blue Eyes would be too hungry to notice that I wasn’t
exactly a Michelin-starred chef. That was why I had somebody cook for
me whenever I was home in Houston.
    I poured a whiskey and
went onto the terrace to wait for her. I hoped to God the shirt and
shorts disguised those boner-inducing curves. I drank and paced, but
another whisky later, she still hadn’t come out of her room.
    Damn. What was taking
her so long? I shouldn’t have let her take a bath behind closed
doors, not knowing what might be wrong with her.
    Leaving the glass in
the kitchen, I