Ringer by C.J. Duggan Read Free Book Online Page A

look her in the eye, apologise, take a hit to my pride and get the hell
out of there. Surely with no car noise and no more crying I could sleep long
and peacefully.
    Without waiting for permission, I pushed
the door open so quickly, there was little time to register the sensation of
ice-cold water that came swooshing down on me, thoroughly drenching me,
followed by the bucket landing perfectly on top of my head. I was frozen; the
only thing snapping me out of my state of shock was the maniacal laughter, no,
more like cackle sound muffled from beyond the bucket that sat skew-whiff on my
head.
    Son of a bitch.
    I slowly pulled it off, whipping the water
from my face and shaking my hair. I scowled above me, the bucket in my hand
tied with a string that looped above the door, my dumbfounded stare then locked
onto Miranda.
    And she was far from crying; in fact, she
looked positively radiant, not one tear shed, well, maybe from laughter as she
stood on the bed, bouncing on the balls of her feet in hysterics. Her laughter
finally caught in her throat as she noticed my murderous stare.
    I thought she might have looked a tad bit
worried, or held some form of regret; instead, she playfully bit her knuckle
and winced, trying not to laugh.
    “Oops,” she said.
    It was all I needed. I threw the bucket to
the side and strode across the room. Miranda squealed, jumped off the bed and
to the side as I tried to lunge towards her. I caught the edge of her black
cardigan that she spun her way out of until all I held in my hand was the cardi
itself.
    Shit!
    She dove for the door and darted outside. I
dropped the clothing and took off after her into the darkness, our feet making
loud pudding booms as we bolted along the decking away from the homestead, away
from the shearing quarters. I was in hot pursuit, and she was fast, Christ, she
was fast. I felt like a greyhound chasing a wild rabbit. I could see her blonde
hair flailing in the wind, the warm summer night drying my clothes as I tore up
the dirt and made up ground after her. She disappeared into one of the out
buildings and I knew I was in trouble; she knew this place better than me and I
knew if I lost sight of her that would be it. Luckily, inside was a massive
open space, our movements tripping a sensor light and flooding the space with
light. Save for an old bomb work ute that she sought refuge behind. Her
breathing was laboured, and without the cardi on, she only had a skimpy,
spaghetti-strap, sheer top underneath, low cut, her cleavage covered in a
slight sheen of sweat. Her hair was wild and her cheeks were flushed. I tried
to control my own breath as I leant my hands on the car; I also tried to
control my wandering eyes. I’m sure she noticed them dip down to her chest.
    Now was not the time for a raging hard
on, Ringer.
    We would be here all night; I had to make
her move to the right, that way I stood a better chance of closing in the space
with little escape. So I did what I knew would work; I glanced to my right,
faking out as if my thought was to go that way, all the while my body went the
opposite, as did she. She all but bolted into my arms and I latched onto her
with my iron grip, her eyes wide with shock, her breathing shallow. After
wondering what the mysterious eyes behind the glasses looked like, I was now in
a position where I was staring into their arresting bluey-green depths, so
close, I could make out speckled colours of lighter hues around the edges.
    We were both breathing hard, her breasts
pressed against my chest, the heat of her skin burning through my wet clothes.
Miranda bit her lip as her cat-like eyes broke from mine and flicked to my
mouth for the briefest moment. I couldn’t help but smile; her eyes darted away
so fast I could imagine she would be cursing herself for that moment of
weakness. However brief it had been, it was still there, and the man in me
soared to the surface. Could the wild-eyed beauty be tamed, I wondered? I
became momentarily