When Nathan came back, he saw a woman squatting at the door. She had blond hair that whipped around her shoulders, the roots even lighter.
Her eyes were bright blue when she looked at him, but he could tell easily enough that they were contacts.
“Hi,” she said sultrily as she stood, her eyes trailing over him slowly. “Aren’t you a fine young man?”
She was above average-looking, dressed in a black tank top and long leggings that hugged her curves. Her belly was smooth and well-oiled. She looked exactly like what one would call a MILF—an older woman who was still undeniably hot.
“Good evening.” Nathan coughed consciously. “Sorry, but you’re sitting at my door.”
“Oh!” She glanced at the door and its number. “That’s odd. I was told that Rosianna lives here.”
Nathan arched a brow at her.
