Dirty Love | Bully Romance (18+)

CHAPTER FIVE - KOLSON | PLAYTOY

CHAPTER FIVE | PLAYTOY

KOLSON

I PARKED MY half-beaten car behind a flock of trees in the corner of the gated neighbourhood, knowing I had to walk the rest of the mile up to her family's estate.

At the edge of the private community, Ted Harding's Mediterranean-styled mansion rested on top of a fenced hillside, sprawling into the encircling acres of snow-washed land and sleeping trees. The white stone covered villa had fresh ivy climbing up the clay-slated roof and around the eight car garage. The interior stupidly boasted of six bedrooms and four family sized suites alongside an indoor pool, a dance studio, a home-theater and a wine cellar that could all but provide the state with world-war three shelter.

The entire place left a bad taste of rich, famous and half-witted in my mouth.

There was no going back now.

Frankly, I had no idea what I was doing here. In this town, in this community, in front of her house.

I just knew something crawled inside me when it came to her. I couldn't stop myself from looking for her, not when I knew she was finally within arm's reach. It was absurd and I hated myself for it, but I had always been slightly unhinged when it came to Sunday Harding.

Also, when everyone treated you like a fucking idiot, you were allowed to act like one from time to time.

As I neared the estate, careful not to be seen by the numerous security cameras, I spotted the window to Sunday's room on the upper second story of the house slightly ajar. I could have genuinely laughed.

Foolish little bird.

Pulling my black hood up, I slid past an opening in the fenced railing. I crouched down into the snow and paused for any alarms, but none came. This time, I didn't stop the helpless snicker that left me. It was all too fucking easy.

Rounding the corner underneath Sunday's window, I climbed the thick ivy roots leading up to her room. Another minuscule twitch touched my lips as I stationed myself against the window ledge and peered through the gap into her empty bedroom. I heard the modest stream of water running from the adjoining bathroom, making it all too effortless to lift the bottom of the glass window up with my knee and slip inside.

Sunday's room possessed the same nanoscopic amount of character as its watered-down owner. The dull-leaden blue colored walls and rustic hardwood floors were the only spots of color in the otherwise blandly furnished room. A plasma TV and several monotone paintings were positioned in front of her king-sized bed, littered with enough pillows to smother a rich husband in his sleep.

I lounged against the windowsill, letting the cool draft blow into the room. Good ole' Ted the Third obviously wasn't accustomed to having to idiot-proof his honored abode.

The bathroom door creaked open and Sunday stepped into the room, padding damp footprints onto her pristine floor, completely unaware I was lurking in the shadows. The scent of her sweet earthly shampoo wafted into my nose, a nauseating potion of citrus and sandalwood.

The dim moonlight that filtered into her room illuminated her little meek figure. My eyes slowly fell down across her body. Unable to help myself, I painfully looked her over, noticing every flash of warm skin underneath her thin white bathrobe. Slender shoulders poked out underneath her long platinum hair, hanging loose behind her. The small strands that framed her oval face dropped little beads of water onto her collarbones, her milky skin dewy from an obvious shower.

She hummed a light tune as she switched on a warm lamp beside her vanity table. Her voice was deeper, more tense than it had been before. I remembered the delicate little sunbird from middle school, a brittle and breakable thing if it wasn't for Daddy's protection.