Bad House by Sam West Read Free Book Online Page A

coffee?”
    “Yeah, why not? Thanks.”
    “Come on,” she said, gesturing for him to follow with the faintest flick of his head.
    He walked after her, trying not to stare at the way her heavily curved, but firm buttocks flexed with every step beneath the semi-sheer nightwear, but failing miserably.
    “Milk and sugar?” she asked, spinning round and catching him in the act.
    He blushed even harder.
    I’m acting like a bloody pubescent …
    “No thanks.”
    The kitchen they were stood in was twice the size of his. Again, it wasn’t to Ian’s tastes, but he could appreciate the sleek design. Everything was steel and chrome and sparkled in a way that suggested the cleaners came more than once a week.
    “Nice place.”
    “Thanks. I chose everything myself. My husband leaves all the design choices to me.”
    “I can see why.”
    Ian, you lick-arse nob …
    “I’m Marianna. Marianna Hobbs. So what can I do for you, Ian Webster?”
    He cleared his throat and tried not to dwell on her sultry appearance as she busied herself with the sleek coffee machine.
    “I just wanted to pop over and introduce myself. And to ask if you knew the people that lived in the house before I moved in.”
    The fact he said I instead of we did not escape him.
    Stop it, you’re married, remember?
    “Number twenty-nine has been empty since we moved in a few years ago, apart from the builders, of course. Me and Jeff never met them.”
    Jeff Hobbs. So that was why she looked so familiar. It all made sense now. Jeff Hobbs was a football player and this glorious woman was his lad-mag, model girlfriend. Her beautiful face was quite often on the newsfeed of his email.
    And her body. Let’s not forget that.
    As if he could. He thought these model types were usually airbrushed half to death, but not Marianna. She was even more beautiful in the flesh. Fresher, somehow.
    He shook his head slightly to keep the dirty thoughts at bay.
    “So you know nothing about them at all?”
    She shrugged her shapely shoulders, causing those perfectly round orbs of her breasts to tremble slightly.
    She’s not wearing a bra …
    “I’m sorry, I can’t help you.”
    He cleared his throat. “Do you know the people the other side of me at number thirty?”
    “Not really. Everyone keeps to themselves round here, although I did hear that they’re spending the winter in Australia. So what do you do, Ian? You don’t look much like you’re in the football industry.”
    Ian let out a genuine laugh. He loathed football with a passion. “No, I’m an artist.”
    “I bet you’re good with your hands, then.”
    Ian’s cock twitched when he thought about how her full tits might feel in his hands and he tried not to stare at the way they gently swayed as she carried the coffees over to the breakfast bar. She sat down on one of the high-stools and Ian sat down opposite.
    “Nice coffee,” he said before he had even taken a sip.
    Marianna laughed; a light, girlish giggle that twinkled musically in his ears. “So what’s so interesting about the previous owners of your house?”
    “Oh, I just want to get in touch with them about some unpaid bills.”
    She rolled her eyes. “Typical. Rich people are the worst for not paying what they owe. Even my husband has an offshore account.”
    “Does he? Still, it pays to look after what you’ve got.”
    His gaze unintentionally slid to her chest, making what he said take on a whole new meaning.
    “And do you, Ian?”
    “Do I what?”
    “Look after what you’ve got? If so, your wife is a very lucky lady.”
    He blushed. Again . How did she even know he was married anyway? Did he just have that henpecked look?
    The wedding ring is a probably a bit of a giveaway …
    He twiddled the thin gold band thoughtfully before replying.
    “Yeah, well, I’m not sure my wife would agree with you right now.”
    “You can’t be any less attentive than my husband. Sometimes I really think he wouldn’t notice if I dropped dead.”
    Ian