Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 134133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
I don't drive much, but I drive myself tonight. I park in the street and walk to her house just in case anyone's awake.
The house is dark. I check all around it to make sure no one's hidden in some back room. It would be a fucking catastrophe to get caught by her mom, but I was in and out easy enough the other night, so as long as no one's awake, I'm not too worried about it.
I draw my lockpick set out of my left pocket and finesse the cheap lock. It's no challenge at all, but I've been picking locks since I was 10 years old with an "inappropriate" crush on our maid's daughter. Her mom bought a lock for their door when I kept sneaking in, so I had to figure out how to get past it without a key.
The daughter liked me, but the maid didn't. She didn't work there for much longer after that.
Sophie’s house is dark when I slip inside. I lock the door behind me since we're in a shitty neighborhood and I wouldn't want any unsavory characters getting into my girl's house while she and her mom are asleep.
I make my way down the dark hall and carefully twist the knob to let myself into Sophie's bedroom.
The room is completely dark, but I still brace for the sound of her voice, perhaps a startled cry if she wasn't completely asleep yet.
She is, though.
It's late.
I close her door and turn the lock just to make sure we're not interrupted.
I feel at peace just knowing I'm in the same room with her.
Once my eyes adjust, I walk closer to the bed so I can look at her. It's too dark to see her face. All I can make out is the shape of her lovely body beneath the covers.
I wonder what she would do if I climbed into that bed with her and wrapped my arms around her waist. If I pulled her back against my body, her perfect ass wiggling against my cock as she sleepily settled in.
That's probably not how it would go.
She'd likely scream, then her mom would come. Not the best way to introduce myself, I suppose.
I have work to do before I can get to the pleasure part of the evening, anyway. I have my phone, but I don't want to risk waking her up, so I move around carefully, searching out the things I need.
Her schoolbag is on the floor against the wall. Hugh took a picture of it earlier so I'd know which one it was since I haven't actually seen her at school, and I wasn't sure how many bags she might have laying around.
I ease down on the floor, keeping an eye on the bed to make sure there's no movement, then I open her bag and start going through her things.
I could get her class schedule and syllabus digitally, but I prefer the personal touch of going through her copies of her papers. More informative, it turns out, because Sophie’s a doodler.
I have to turn the flashlight on my phone to read them, but as I flip through Professor DeMarco’s psych syllabus, I don’t just see the suggested reading and weekly breakdown of the textbook. I also see how she highlighted his office hours and email which she didn’t do on any of the other packets she has from other professors.
My eyes narrow as I see the copious highlighting she’s done to this syllabus. Far more than she has done to the others. I suppose she could just be inordinately interested in the class, but she’s studying the actual sciences, not the social sciences. I expected her to be more interested in Darwin than Jung and Freud.
Not to pigeon-hole her, of course. Sophie can be interested in whatever she’s interested in.
Just not Professor DeMarco.
I’m probably overthinking it, so I pull up the university website and search up DeMarco to see what he looks like.
Well, that’s unfortunate.
He’s not some stodgy old bastard like I was hoping he might be. Instead, he’s young and handsome, radiating the kind of smug arrogance I could easily see my Sophie falling for.
Well, that won’t do at all.
With renewed interest, I slip the spy pen in her bag with the rest of her pens and highlighters. She has a little case of them, so I expect she takes the whole case out of her bag when she’s preparing for class.
I take quick pictures of each page of her marked-up syllabus just to be thorough, then I flip through the rest of her notes before closing her bag and putting it back exactly where I found it.
I slip the second pen in a little rose gold pen holder on her desk in case she comes back here after school tomorrow instead of her well-surveilled dorm room.