Page 7 of Krampus Kruk
“You better not be all bark,” he says, low.
“Biting isyourjob.”
His deep chuckle—it’s so hot. It’s cocky and just … all man. “You’re pretty easy for being the scariest guy at the bar,” I say, looking down at his hand tattoo. I’m curious about it. Hand tats on a guy his age? That’s … I don’t need to know. I don’t need to know anything about him.
“Throwing stones, glass house.”
I giggle, enjoying his wit. But then, the name Joanna Kowalski flashes across his display. His wife? Girlfriend?This was a stupid idea.I raise my brow, curious if he will turn back now. He answers, and a little boy’s voice comes through the car’s Bluetooth, saying something in Polish.
He smiles, his tone softer, replying in the same language. Amused and curious, I stare at him, watching him speak.
“My grandson,” he says after ending the call. “I gave him some new toys earlier today. He wanted to tell me how much he likes them.”
“Cute.”
“He’s my second chance,” he says after a pause. “Not going to fuck him up like my boys.”
“If you want me to play therapist, Iamgoing to charge by the hour.”
“You’re going to play nice, which I already know will be a lot of work for you.”
I laugh.We’re too comfortable with each other already.“Let me armchair therapize you.”
“This should be good.”
“You spent, like, a decent amount of time in jail and missed out on the formative years of your boys’ lives, and now they hate you.”
He scoffs. “I’ve never been to jail.”
“I got two out of three,” I say smugly, relieved about the part I got wrong. I don’t need to know why his kids hate him. This is one night. Then, I’m never seeing him again.
“One and a half out of three.”
I tilt my head, curious.
“I didn’t know about my first son until he was thirty.”
“So slutty.”
His hand moves up my thigh, sliding between my legs.Jeans.I wouldn’t have worn them if I’d intended on having a one-night stand.
“You play fair, Miss Running-From-Home-On-Christmas-Eve?” he asks, squeezing my inner thigh tight.
“Why not? Analyze away.”
“You have many characters … I bet the work version of you is nothing like the girl who goes to a bar in hopes of getting attention.”
“I didn’t go to the bar for attention.”
“Then why are you in my car?”
I pause for a second. “Because I don’t want to think.”
6
Ifucking love a brat. I bite my thumbnail, considering how I’m going to spank her later, but the things coming out of her mouth are keeping me entertained.
“Some free advice.” I pause, chuckling low in my throat. “Life’s easier when you stop giving a fuck.”
