Ayda

 

I hear him.His deep voice and rumbling laugh. The bang of the headboard slamming the wall and fake screams from yet another woman. Derek is a pile of muscle and ink, a bad boy fantasy only a few layers of wood and plaster away. It’s all I expect or want him to be.Until that irresistible voice begins talking to me.

 

Dare

 

I hear her.The clicking of her fingers on a keyboard, her music or TV playing in the background. Her musical laugh and soft cries of pleasure, accompanied by a low, steady buzz. Ayda is a good girl who keeps to herself, and I have no business pursuing her, but I’m not a man known for doing the right thing.I’m an ex-con. I’m a criminal.And I want her.