Hans by S.J Tilly EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: S.J Tilly
- Language: English
- Genre: Action & Adventure Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2.5MB
- Price: Free
Hans
THE SOFT SCRAPING SOUND OF MY BLADE GLIDING OVER THE
whetstone fills me with a sense of calm.
It’s familiar.
My dearest friend.
Instinctually, my wrist twists to hold the metal against the stone at a
fifteen-degree angle, five degrees shallower than most brand standards. A
little sharper. A little more dangerous.
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A little more my style.
Ahead of me, a yellow light blinks in the corner of one of my monitors.
I move my eyes up from my knife to the signaling screen and watch
Cassandra, my neighbor, the bane of my existence, hop across the street
from her driveway to mine.
Okay, so she’s not hopping. But in that strappy little tank top and shorts,
she might as well be for how much every inch of her is fucking jiggling.
The work surface in front of me creaks as I lean forward, my fist
gripping the knife handle, pressing the butt of it against the old wood.
Does she not realize what a fucking temptation she is?
Does she have no sense at all?
Her big tits bounce as she takes her next step, her flimsy flip-flops
doing nothing to protect her feet from the cracked blacktop.
A girl like her should wear…
Nothing.
A girl like her should wear absolutely nothing, and she should spend her
nights on her back with her thighs spread, her hands pinned, and her body
heaving… underneath mine—where no one else can ever lay eyes on her.
I grind my teeth.
This world isn’t made for delicate creatures like her.
On the screen, Cassandra brushes one hand down the front of her purple
top as she turns off my driveway and down the little brick pathway that
leads to my front door.
My front door, which is one level up from my current spot in my
basement.
My front door that I never answer.
Because I can’t talk to her.
I can’t let myself get that close to her.
The doorbell is inaudible through the reinforced walls of my hidden safe
room, but I hear it clearly through my speakers.
Another screen shows a different view, and this one might be my
favorite.
The camera is in the peephole, so it’s a perfect angle of her perfect face.
She bites her lip.
She shifts the glass container of badly made baked goods in her hands.
She reaches up and brushes her curly black hair away from her face.
I shove the air out of my lungs.
It’s almost time for her next haircut. Her bangs are a little long, hanging
into her eyes, the curls even more apparent in the short strands, making her
look just the right amount of unkempt.
I love them.
But I hate when they block my view of her soft brown irises, even if it’s
only for a second.
Her tongue darts out, swiping across her plump bottom lip.
And I look to the ceiling.
The doorbell sounds again.
Maybe if I focus, I can slam my head forward, impaling my eye socket
onto my blade, and put myself out of this fucking blue-ball misery.
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