Chapter 1: Introduction
I must have dozed off while trying to beat my high score on Candy Crush. Again. The humming TV was the last thing I remembered until a sudden loud noise jerked me out of my sugar-crushing coma.
I squinted at the blinking time displayed on the cable box: 11:43 p.m. It was as dark as a black hole outside; Peter hadn't come home yet from his business trip. Even if he wasn't late, he'd still be in the den, working into the night.
The only difference would be the light seeping through the crack in the door, instead of the darkness that now filled every corner of our cozy two-story suburban home.
As I pushed myself off the couch, another crash echoed from upstairs, followed by a string of curse words that could only mean one thing: thieves.
My heart hammered in my chest as I quietly crept towards the kitchen drawer, where Peter kept his handgun. I wrapped my fingers around the cold metal, swallowing the lump in my throat.
What the hell was I supposed to do now? I was a fifty-year-old woman with no real fighting experience besides the occasional bickering with Peter.
I tiptoed towards the stairs, pausing at each step to listen. The house was eerily quiet, save for the distant sound of creaking floorboards. I reached the top of the staircase, gun trembling in my hand.
That's when I saw him. Jack. A gorgeous, charismatic man in his mid-thirties, with dark hair and piercing blue eyes.
He was rummaging through our belongings, indifferent to the chaos he left behind.
Suddenly, he looked up and our eyes locked. His gaze was intense, yet magnetic, and I felt a shiver run down my spine as if someone had just walked over my grave.
"Don't be afraid," he said, in a smooth and silky voice. "I won't hurt you."
He took a few steps towards me, and I instinctively took a step back, pressing myself against the banister.
He blocked my escape, his mouth curling into a smirk. He knew he had me.
"I said don't be afraid," he repeated, his voice filled with a hint of amusement and confidence. My heart was racing, but I couldn't shake the strange sensation simmering in the pit of my stomach. It was a mix of fear, excitement, and an attraction that I didn't fully understand.
"Who are you?" I asked, trying to stay calm.
I needed to know who this man was, what he wanted, and how I could get out of this situation alive.
"You can call me Jack," he said, as he leaned in closer, his hand grazing the side of my face. I felt a shiver of anticipation run through me, and my knees grew weak.
"I'm a thief," he admitted, "but I promise I won't hurt you. In fact, I think we can help each other."
I blinked, confused.
What the hell did he mean by 'help each other'? I had no intentions of getting involved with a thief, no matter how handsome he was.
Before I could protest, Jack pressed his lips to mine, his fingers tracing the curve of my jaw. I felt a surge of electricity shoot through me, and my body trembled with desire. I couldn't believe I was letting this man, this stranger, kiss me like this.
But I couldn't help it. I wanted him. I had been craving something like this for years, but Peter had never been the adventurous type.
Hell, our sex life had become as outdated as the kitchen appliances we owned.
As Jack's tongue explored my mouth, my mind was suddenly filled with a thousand vivid fantasies. I imagined us in every room of the house, exploring each other's bodies with a sense of urgency and wild abandon.
I could feel Jack's erection pressing against me, and I moaned softly as I rubbed against it. I was already wet, my panties damp with desire, and I knew I needed him inside me.
"Fuck me," I whispered, breaking the kiss.