Page 7 of Ferocious Nightmare

Three

It’d beenthree days and I hadn’t seen a snippet of Coulter. He’d performed his famous disappearing act, making the game between us so much more frustrating, though I suspected he did it just so he wouldn’t give in to temptation.

The only sign that he even thought about me was the sight of a new bouquet of chocolate cosmos flowers by my bedside every morning, taunting me. Reminding me of my betrayal.

I was driving in my new truck, and the roaring sound alone of this thing sent a thrill between my thighs. I was beginning to think that my sex life from here on out would be between me, my fingers, and the vibrations of my truck.

"For fuck's sake, Aster!" Dante gripped the edge of the window as I drove straight from the driveway and into the yard.

I grinned, gunning the engine, picking up speed as we made our way to the side of the house where I'd staked my claim on the King property.

Right under Coulter's bedroom window. Now I could look outside and easily see my progress.

Not that I was in my room much anymore. True to his word, I could now come and go as I pleased, as long as I had Dante tagging along with me.

"What? It's easier than carrying all the plants from the driveway to the yard."

“That's what the guards are for," he growled, still clutching the edge of the window.

"I thought they were for keeping sweet, innocent mafia princesses in their cages," I snarked.

I caught a whiff of a smile before he turned away to stare out the window. "That, too."

Taking a brief moment to feel the roaring engine before I parked and shut it off, I jumped down from the ridiculously high step, landing on my feet.

"I don't know why you bought this ugly thing," Dante grumbled as he climbed from the other side.

Much to Coulter's dismay, I didn’t buy something flashy and new, but a 1992 F 350 diesel. It was four-wheel drive, spray painted a matte black, had tires almost as tall as myself, and a couple of dents in the body.

It was perfect.

The thing drove like a purring tiger and could easily handle everything I was planning on putting it through.

I only smiled mysteriously at Dante, then joined him out back and began to unload all the plants. Since Las Vegas was such a different climate than where I was from, I'd spent hours in the nursery, talking with Lizzy, a girl I met in the store who liked gardening as much as I did. She talked me through how to prepare the soil, as well as several plant purchases and how to take care of them.

As soon as we began to unload them, a few of the guards ran to join us, and in no time, we had laid them all out where they were to be planted.

Over the last three days, I'd gotten to know some of the guards. It was amazing what batting your eyes at a man could do to get you what you wanted. In the time that it would've taken me to mark off the space and start digging into the ground alone, I had everything ready and prepped.

“Thanks, guys.” I grinned at them, and they all nodded their heads before turning to go back to their stations. David, the best looking one of the bunch, lingered, and I threw him a grin and a wink before he walked off, running to catch up with the others.

"Stop doing that." Dante scowled, coming to stand next to me.

Even though he'd done just as much work as me, Dante didn’t have an ounce of sweat on him and it was really annoying. How did he pull that off?

“Do what?" I turned away from him and, grabbing my gloves and a shovel, marched over to the first row.

"Don't play stupid with me," grabbing his own shovel, he followed me and began to dig a small hole, "you're playing with fire, flirting with the guards."

“Coulter said I couldn't have sex with anyone else. He didn't say anything about not having a little fun." I gently began to pull and shake the marigold from its pot. "Besides, it's not like I'm going to get any other action.”

I sounded downright resentful about it.

"If I remember correctly, you're the one who said you didn't want Coulter touching you."

"That's because he said he wasn't going to have sex with me, the jerk." I really hated how bitter I felt, but I couldn't seem to help myself. I’d spent the last couple of nights trying not to touch myself, though the memory of Coulter's hands on me made it a self-inflicted torture.

I wanted to prove, even to myself, that I wasn't having fantasies of him fucking me again.

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