The perfect prey made for a predator to devour with sharp teeth. And that predator is me. I’ll be her villain. I’m the big, bad wolf, and the only thing I’m hungry for is the taste of sweet little Lennon. “Why are you staring at me?” “Sure you want me to answer that?” I ask, reaching out to ghost the pads of my fingertips along the top of her thighs, just below where her skirt ends. Her breath hitches at the contact, and my eyes never leave hers, holding her stare, watching as her pupils dilate.
