That Filthy Book Read Online Free PDF

confident stride.
    In our room, Jacob had whistled when I’d presented myself to him, said my blonde hair looked damn hot and sexy against the red top. I’d felt so pleased with myself, having bought clothes that fitted well and highlighted my curves in a seductive way.
    I glanced back. Jacob followed, maybe a hundred metres away, also in new clothing. Black jeans, black bomber jacket, beanie hat covering his hair. A beanie hat that, when he pulled down the folded cuff, became a ski mask. God, my stomach had clenched with excitement when I’d spotted it earlier. The thought of being taken by a rough-and-ready masked man had wet my slit right there in the shop. I’d looked at him, mask in my hand, thumb brushing the wool, and he’d nodded and walked away. If he hadn’t, would he have grabbed hold of me and done something he shouldn’t have?
    I liked that—it gave me power to know I affected him so much. Bizarre really, when it was having power taken away from me that ruled my thoughts.
    Smiling now, I turned away from him and faced ahead, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other without my heels catching in the gaps between the uneven slabs of the path. It was weird walking in these shoes after so many years of flats or trainers. I’d worn heels on occasion, to weddings and parties, but the last time had been so long ago it was like learning to totter in them all over again.
    Our first stop hogged the corner across the road, a squat, old-fashioned red-brick building, the dark green swinging sign proclaiming it as Brewer’s Droop. I’d laughed at that earlier, told Jacob if he thought of having more than one drink in there tonight he’d better not prove the pub name true.
    I needed him hard and more than able to carry out the plans I’d whispered in his ear. As I’d stood with him, wrapped in that towel, I’d given him every delicious detail, then pulled back and studied him, checked whether he really was up for it and not just agreeing to indulge me. From the flush of his cheeks and the gleam in his eye I could tell he was willing. He’d pulled me closer, kissed me hard, his cock growing by the second. If I hadn’t pulled away we would never have left that room.
    My steps were taking me closer to the pub, so I crossed the road, hips swaying, heels tapping the asphalt. Once I was on the other side, I glanced back again, so giddy with excitement I couldn’t have described it if I’d tried. Jacob had crossed over too; he was looking menacing in the doorway of the tool shop we’d visited that afternoon. Yes, I wanted this fantasy to be as realistic as possible and the purchase we’d made there would see to that.
    Shadows embraced his right side so he appeared to be half a person in the illumination of the orange-hued streetlamp. He looked sinister, like a man lying in wait, a predator ready to pounce on his prey. I wondered what he was thinking as he stared back at me, whether he saw me as his wife or was getting into his role, seeing me as an object and not a person, the one thing he wanted that would sate his desires and make him feel whole. I hoped he thought the latter. I wanted him to be so unlike his usual self that I would fail to recognise him.
    Getting well into my own role, I narrowed my eyes at him, as though I wondered why he’d tailed me, and waited for his reaction. It came as a scowl and a nasty sneer on his lips designed to frighten but instead it gave me a thrill to think of him being someone he wasn’t—violent and mean, ruthless and without conscience.
    Fuck, I was getting wet.
    I frowned, shaping my mouth into a suitable grimace, and turned away. At the pub door, dark green with brass handles and opaque windows, I took a deep breath and quickly entered, as if seeking the safety of other people. The scent of stale beer beneath that of the freshly poured pints assaulted me, and it took a few breaths before the aroma went away. Other smells took over—too many aftershaves and