Page 2 of His Property

A dirty, off-white Honda Accord with a dent in the rear bumper on the passenger side was parked along the street right at the end of my property line. I’d never seen it before. It was the same place the first twit the cleaning company had sent to me had decided to park—and the same girl whom I’d caught, of all things, spanking the muffin on the job, rather than actually cleaning anything. Was the girl named Kate? Kara? Something like that.

An idiot, whatever her name was.

Easing my car into the garage, I decided to walk around and enter through the front door, using the little detour as an opportunity to make sure there wasn’t anyone on the grounds.

Loosening my tie as I reached the front porch, I stretched for a moment. The day was still gray and dreary, but not as ridiculously cold as it had been earlier. Fall was definitely on the way, the huge maple dominating one half of the front yard already displaying numerous leaves bleeding into pinks and oranges.

Putting my key in, I found the deadbolt was already retracted. “Lot of good that does,” I muttered, shaking my head. I wondered if the silly twit from yesterday had shown up for round two today. Leaving the front door to my house unlockedwouldbe something she was stupid enough to do.

Might be time for a call in to Craig.

If only people would just do their goddamned jobs, my life would be… well, a little easier, anyway.

Not for the first time, the thought that I might be working too much of late crossed my mind.

Since Mari, Ihadbeen putting in insane hours. Yes, it was my company, built from scratch, but there was such a thing as trying to pour from an empty cup.

Vacation?

I generally hated them, as the whole time all I could usually think about was the opportunity cost of sitting on my ass doing not much of anything.

That’s not what Mari would have thought.

I grumbled under my breath as I pushed the front door open… only to find one of the sweetest, roundest asses I’d ever seen.

Well, the owner of said round ass was wearing jeans, threadbare and snug, especially where it counted, her wide hips straining the denim pleasingly.

The woman, dark-haired and wearing a gray sweatshirt—that was most definitely a clothing choice I never approved of—was bent over at the foot of the stairway, vacuuming, the deafening sound of the motor clearly masking the noise of my entry, as the woman seemed entirely unaware I was standing behind her.

Turning, I quietly closed the door, then leaned against it, my arms crossed, enjoying the view until such time as she realized she was no longer alone. Whoever this was, it most definitely was not that dipshit from yesterday. Where that girl had been skinny as a rail—to the point of wan—this female was anything but, her figure lush and shapely.

No, this one was built the way I’d always preferred—like a real woman. My nephew, Jason, would have called her stacked, or thick, or whatever the fuck else college kids called hot women now.

She straightened, flipping the off switch, the vacuum’s motor winding down quickly, and it was at that moment, as she turned partially, profile facing me, that it became clear she was… not much older than my goddamned nephew.

Interesting.

Only it wasn’t, really. Possessed of a world-class ass though she may have been—shown off well in her rather tight jeans—I had none, zero, nada interest in anything to do with someone who appeared to be practically half my age. It wasn’t that I was old,per se, but a man of forty was past the time for playing around with stupid young women, who didn’t have much else to bring to a relationship other than being young, dumb, and full of cum.

I cursed softly, pushing off the door, unbuttoning my suitcoat.

The girl spun around, crying out and clapping a hand to her mouth, her dark brown eyes wide, blinking rapidly. She was far prettier than I’d realized, with pale pink lips, blushing cheeks, and long dark eyelashes. Her figure was just like her ass—lush, generous, and curvy in every way a man could want. Her breasts were heavy, and though the somewhat baggy sweatshirt—I really hated such clothing—did well to hide her bountiful charms, even with that I could tell she was very pleasingly proportioned indeed.

She’s a college girl, you dipshit.

“Who are you?” I said, putting a touch of growl in my voice, advancing a step toward her.

“I-I’m sorry, I… Lola.” She attempted a smile, her lower lip trembling ever so slightly as she held out a hand. “Lola Grant, sir.”

Sir. Yes, that’s correct, isn’t it?

I really hadn’t seen it since the first time I’d laid eyes on Mari. It had been… a yieldingenergy to both her body and her spirit. But this Lola, she had it in spades.

And part of me wanted much,muchmore of it. Now.

Don’t be stupid.

Stupid or not, my cock was already getting hard. Her scent came to me and I inhaled it, something floral and spicy both. I wanted to ask her what it was, but that would send entirely the wrong message.

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