Chapter Fifty-Seven Pete Miller
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Pete Miller
Pete stood in the trees, half hidden by the early-morning shadows. His gaze fixed on the old house, its windows dark and still. Then—click. A single light flared to life.
His muscles tightened. He didn’t move. Watched.
Raine drifted into view at the window. Long blond hair spilled over her shoulders, catching the glow.
When she arched in a careless stretch, Pete’s breath snagged.
He could picture the press of bare breasts against thin cotton.
He’d wondered about the weight of the soft mounds in his hands.
He had thought about them more times than he could count.
He’d have to wait.
The sun was rising, bleeding light across the horizon. Wrong time. But come nightfall, he’d be back.
The fool who’d hired him thought the money was his motivator. Pete almost laughed. He’d have done this for nothing.