Excerpt 8 from Red Hot Sinner Man
By Stephen B. Bagley
Regina Kimmons knew Jacob Sloane wanted her. She could tell. The way he looked at her. The way his eyes not only undressed her but threw her on the red leather couch in his neo-Spartan office and made her scream glories until she was hoarse. How his hand would rest on her shoulder, just a brotherly pat, a touch of friendship, but his long, slender fingers would linger as if they longed to press themselves deep into her flesh until they left dark violet marks of his passion.
She sat at her desk and watched him over her filing. Once she sliced her finger on a piece of paper and pressed the welling cut to her mouth. She looked up and caught his eyes focusing on her lips before he turned away. She knew he wanted her. Now if only his inconvenient wife would die.
Often she found herself thinking of ways for Linda Kimmons to die. A car accident. A stroke. A strange strain of flu. A doctor's mistake. People died all the time; why couldn't she? She used to feel guilty about wanting Linda to die, but she had done it so often that it barely bothered her anymore. In fact, she wondered sometimes what she would do if Linda was in front of her at the top of the stairs. But then she would laugh at herself. She wasn't a killer. No man was worth that.
That's what she told herself.
(Copyright 2017 by Stephen B. Bagley. All rights reserved. Thank you for reading.)