Shadowed Obsession

by Evelyn Leigh

Mi abuela always says, “If you want respect, never let anyone mispronounce your name. Correct them every time.”

Provoking her could either be life-threatening, turn me on, or both.

I wonder if she knows that her eyes can ruin a man’s resolve. If death looks this fucking beautiful, I may reconsider.

“It belonged to my abuelita. She won’t be needing it anymore,” I say softly.

“I should get checked out. I’ll say I came home late, scared mi beba, and you greeted me with a gun like a good girl,”

It’s safe to say the dark romance novels I’ve been reading have fucked with my logical thinking. Either that or the bar is in hell. It’s definitely in hell.

What is the saying? Time flies when you’re reading smut or something like that?

He gasps. “Well I never,” he says in a fake country accent. “Nobody has more audacity than white men. How dare you insult me like that?”

The sight of this man driving with one hand on the steering wheel and the other in mine should be illegal for my ovaries.

“And what do you know about me?” I tease. “Everything I could learn without asking.” “What do you wish you knew?" “What you taste like," he says with desire in his eyes.

If death looks this fucking beautiful, I may reconsider.