“Why haven’t you got your own place?” The moment he’d turned eighteen he’d been out of his parents place. He didn’t want them pressuring him to be just like them.
“I don’t know.”
They came to a stop outside her house.
“This is me,” she said. Laura gave him a smile and walked up the small steps.
“I’ll see you at the library,” he called up after her.
She turned and smiled at him. “Bright and early.”
Peter waited until she went inside before going home. He lived above one of the shops in town. The rent was cheap considering the apartment was in the best of shape.
He opened a beer and sat in his chair. He didn't think Laura saw him as a potential boyfriend and this stalking would have to come to an end. He couldn’t keep watching her from afar either. Shaking his head, he thought he sounded like a creep even to himself, let alone what Laura might think. He’d ask her out soon. Maybe.
Chapter Eight
Over the next few days Laura shared the mornings between working at the library and helping Peter and her nights with Dean, but nothing sinister or sexual. She cooked him dinner and he’d read through her work or they'd watch a movie. He’d finally given her the grand tour of his house on one of the nights. They talked about work and while she wrote on the computer in his study, he either hovered over her or wrote some himself.
“Come on. When are you going to tell me about your writing?” she asked one night as she packed away her folder. In the past few weeks alone, he’d taught her so much already and even she’d seen an improvement in her writing.
“Funny you should mention that. I was about to give you a copy of one of my books,” he said.
Laura paused and glanced up at him. “Are you joking?”
“Nope, I think you can handle them. That is, if you still want to read them?”
“Are you insane? Of course I do.”
She watched him walk over to one of his shelves. His fingers began playing along the spines of the many books. Her excitement grew. He pulled out one of the thickest books and moved over to her.
“This is the first book I ever wrote,” he told her and handed the title to her.
“Surrendering to Her Master,” she read the name out loud.
“Wait, how old are you again?” he asked, gripping the book.
Laura wouldn’t let go.
“I’m twenty years old and stop being a tease,” she said. Laura couldn’t believe she was holding one of his titles.
“This is what started your writing?” she asked.
“The first of many titles to come.”
“This is amazing,” she said.
“Good, because some of this stuff is meant for women and I’m trusting you with it,” he warned her.
“Is it dirty?” She asked and chuckled when she saw him staring at her. The cover showed a woman bound into full submission.
“Read it and don’t blame me,” he answered.
“I’d better hide it. My mum’s a bit of a prude,” she admitted.
Dean drove her home that night. She felt as if his book was burning a hole through her bag. She waved good-bye when he dropped her off, then grabbed her supper out of the fridge and walked upstairs.
Laura got ready for bed and settled down for the evening, eating her dinner and opening up the book. She saw that his dedication was to his wife. Laura pierced a tomato and began reading. From the first page on she couldn’t put it down. Dean’s writing was powerful and mesmerizing. She could see the characters clear in her mind. The heroine had brown hair and brown eyes with a full figure. As she read the words she pictured herself as the female and Dean as the master. She gasped and glanced at her vanity mirror. Her cheeks were red from the flush. The sex scene she’d just read was more intense than anything she’d ever imagined, let alone experiencing. Laura reread the chapter.