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Sociopath's Obsession(66)

By:V.F. Mason


Before he could answer, Kristina crashed against my leg and gazed at the stranger with interest in her eyes. The puppy followed her shortly and, to my surprise, sat down beside the stranger’s leg.

“Lucky!” Kristina’s voice held outrage.

“Lucky?” I asked dumbly.

My daughter nodded and pointed at the dog. “That’s his name.”

I closed my eyes and prayed for some kind of strength to deal with my kid. “Honey, you can’t name a dog that doesn’t belong to you.” Then I looked up to the stranger, whose attention oddly focused on my daughter, studying her, and then he squatted down on his haunches in front of her and picked up the puppy, who immediately calmed down in his arms.

“You like the puppy?” His voice was low, hoarse, and slightly scratchy. As if he learned how to speak all over again. Maybe those scars on his neck made him lose his original voice. Kristina nodded, and he put the pup in her hands as her mouth widened in a smile. “He’s yours.” She hugged the damn dog close.

“Really?”

“Yes, he is mine, but I think he prefers to live here more.”

She squealed, unexpectedly threw her arms around him, and hugged him close with all her might. The man froze, and then gently, his hands returned her hug. He let go of her then and stood up. Kristina jumped excitedly.

“Mommy, we get to keep him.” I opened my mouth to correct her, because no way had I given my permission to the man who disappeared from view, leaving us on the porch alone. “We do, right?” Kristina tugged on my pants irritably, and with a heavy sigh, I nodded, but my hands took him away from her. With a stern look in my eyes, I pointed at the bathroom. “Wash your hands and face, lady. Then change to clean clothes. I’m going to give Lucky a bath. And no running around with the dog in the house if his paws are dirty.”

She pouted, but it was something I wouldn't budge on, so she followed my instructions.

As I was walking to the bathroom, I wondered how in the hell in the span of ten minutes I ended up with a puppy and met my new neighbor.

Or more importantly, why it still bothered me he left so abruptly, without saying a single word to me.



Later That Night



After finishing my bathroom routine, I went to check on Kristina, and to my relief, she slept soundly, with Lucky on the corner of her bed. Shaking my head in amusement, I covered the pup with a small blanket and left the blue bedside lamp on, so she wouldn't be afraid of the dark.

Closing the door behind me, I rested my back against it and took a deep breath. As exhausting as it was to raise a child on your own, the moments when she went to sleep somehow seemed the worst, because quietness overtook the house, and there was no running away from memories or demons. I went to my room, and to my surprise, the curtains were flying high from the wind as the room brightened in the moonlight. My hand removed the pin from my hair and allowed it to cascade down my back as the soft breeze ran over my skin, and the fresh, beach smell filled the air. Still wearing a towel, I grabbed body lotion and raised my leg on the bed as I applied it.

Suddenly, the air changed around me, and instantly, the presence of another person registered in my mind. Strong hands grabbed me from behind, one covering my mouth to prevent screaming, and the other hand removed the lotion from my hands and threw it across the room. We both were breathing heavily, and from the strong chest to my back, I understood it was a male. He spun me around, and to my shock, it was the stranger from the porch tonight. He pushed me against the wall, trapping me with his body and still covering my mouth with his hand. The position allowed me to have a better look at him.

His eyes, the ones he hid from me.

Amber eyes.

Once I stopped struggling, he removed his hand from my mouth as my whisper echoed in the room.

“Damian?”



Somewhere in Russia…

The tall man stood on the balcony, admiring the view in front of him as people partied downstairs. He was completely naked, but he didn’t seem to be bothered by the fact as he sipped his whiskey; the sound of ice clanking was the only noise that filled the room. His hands and back were covered in various tattoos, leaving barely any gorgeous tan skin to admire. He had a massive and ripped body, and rarely anyone looked at him without fear. The man’s shoulder-length black hair lightened up in the night, creating a mysterious vision.

He tensed as a soft hand touched his sweat-soaked back, and she gently ran her fingers over the tattoo that represented the Gemini sign. Any touch that didn’t include sex as physical release repulsed him and made him want to rip the hand away from his body. He was always up when the need came to wet his dick in any willing pussy; looks or anything else didn’t matter. All women were faceless bodies that he used from time to time. The man’s restless mood urged him to go for round two, which he rarely did, but the woman made the mistake of touching him, although he specifically instructed her not to. A jerking session under the shower would have to do.