Astrid had had an interesting day and evening.
She anxiously paced the
house, expecting Remy. She had gotten out of the shower when he'd
called. Astrid hadn't been in the mood to see him, but he would not take
no for an answer.
She had poured a glass
of wine after his call and now went into the kitchen to refill her
glass. Her nerves were edgy from the information Calder had placed in
Was Remy stalking her?
Whatever for? Astrid only went running and to the club now that she no
longer worked. If he himself was working how could he tail her? She half
wondered if Calder was trying to make her paranoid. She had expected a
little taunt towards getting her to leave Remy, but not the other things
he'd said. It was too creepy.
Hearing Remy's car just
as she finished her second glass of wine, Astrid felt a little braver.
Looking down at the cute little silk black mini-robe she wore, she
suddenly wished had put on more clothes. Remy would be revved up. S…
Remy was thrilled Astrid accepted his job when most women wouldn't
because, yeah, he fucked other people. She truly was exceptional when
it came to accepting people at face value.
Only, he found himself being aggressive because of how easily Astrid
took situations. She was submissive when he had met her, but he saw
changes in her. He liked her insecurity. It had been part of her charm.
Sure, Astrid still avoided eye contact, asked somewhere insecure
questions about why he wanted her, but she had changed.
Remy had been about to blow his wad when Arlo interrupted. The hand
he clamped down on Astrid's mouth had been instinctive. He loved the way
Astrid sounded while she came and he didn't want to share her. Calder
obviously had already experienced her sexual sonnets, and that alone
made his preservation of Astrid utterance even more hard-handed.
When Astrid had come, so unexpectedly, he held onto her voluptuous
body in rapture. He would never tire of her bod…
There were seagulls squawking in the air when I caught sight of the lovely petite woman I would later know as Dee. She wore all black, not uncommon most days but the veil over her face didn't flutter one iota when a gale wind swept off of the sea while the preacher pronounced the couple getting married husband and husband.
Uncommon to wear funeral wear to a wedding.
Very intriguing to a man such as myself.
Later I caught her trolling the couple once I sussed out her name and connection to the wedding. I myself was a distant cousin of the groom and only attended because I had been in the area. She had not been part of the wedding, only wandered up on the beach already attired like a widow in mourning.
She is beautifully broken and a murderess.
I introduced myself at my cousins funeral a month later when grabbing her by the neck and sticking her with my favorite drug cocktail which allowed enough time for transportation and to sit her down prettily in an outdated dining r…