Another 1667

Quiet comes at a price. In this case it was the price of a tank of gas, a bag of Funyuns and a diet Pepsi. She didn’t mean to grab diet, or Pepsi for that matter, so the bottle sat untouched in the cup holder. 

The house sat lonely; the owners gone for weeks already with no end to their trip in sight. What would that be like? To go with no intention of coming back until all the going was worn out? She’d never know. The cash in her wallet was all she had. Her bank account was overdrawn and her job was given away to someone younger with more enthusiasm for being treated like shit on a daily basis.

This was technically her job now. Sit in an empty house and make sure it was still standing when they returned. It paid little but the rent was free and she’d have time to write. A thing in theory she should be able to do anywhere.
Hatred fueled every touch. Feeling his skin beneath her lips and knowing that he despised her as much as she him. It couldn’t Prevent the collision of their bodies; the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he struggled against her, tongue in her mouth. She wanted to hold fast to the hate. But his fingers buried in her skin opened something deep within her. She could feel the hate slide away with every stroke of skin on skin and before the night was over she knew she’d have forgotten why they hated each other to begin with.

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About brandil79