Master of Lust-Chapter 225: An Unknown Woman

Chapter - 225

"Why are the lights on?" Rick muttered as he stepped out of the car, his brows furrowing in confusion. He stared at the house, noticing that the windows were brightly lit, an unusual sight considering he was certain he had turned everything off before leaving. It gave the house an almost eerie glow against the dark backdrop of the night.

Rick's father hesitated beside him, his face a mask of concern. He looked like he wanted to say something but was holding back. "This... I... Think," he began, his voice trailing off uncertainly, as if he couldn't quite find the right words.

"You wait here," Rick said firmly, gently pulling his father back. "Let me check it out."

"But Rick," his father protested, concern etched deeply on his face. "What if—"

Rick hushed him mid-sentence, his expression serious. "Stay here," he insisted, his tone leaving no room for argument. Ignoring his father's attempt to speak further, he took determined steps towards the house, his senses on high alert.

As he approached the front door, the air felt thick with tension. Rick's heart pounded in his chest, a rhythmic reminder of the uncertainty ahead. The front door creaked open, the sound eerily loud in the quiet night. The silence inside was almost deafening, broken only by the faint hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen.

Rick moved stealthily, his eyes darting to every corner, every shadow as he made his way through the dimly lit hallway. He could feel his pulse quickening, each step echoing softly on the wooden floorboards.

"Who's there?" Rick called out softly, his voice barely above a whisper. There was no response, only the oppressive quiet that seemed to press in on him from all sides.

He glanced into the living room, the furniture casting long shadows in the glow of the lamps. Everything appeared to be in place, but the sense of unease didn't dissipate. He continued down the hallway, peering into each room as he passed. The kitchen was next, its stainless steel surfaces gleaming under the overhead lights.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, yet the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

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He even peeked into his parents' room, but it was just as empty and undisturbed as the rest of the house. Every corner of the downstairs seemed perfectly normal, which only heightened his anxiety.

Rick's heart pounded louder as he turned his gaze toward the stairs. Normally, he wouldn't be this on edge, but recent events had thrown his life into chaos. Too many people had taken an interest in him—some with good intentions, many with not-so-good ones.

With each step up the staircase, Rick felt the weight of his fears pressing down on him. The house was eerily quiet, the only sound the soft creak of the wooden steps beneath his feet. When he reached the top, he paused for a moment, listening, his eyes fixed on the door at the end of the hallway—his room. The door was slightly ajar, a sliver of light spilling out into the otherwise dark corridor.

Taking a deep breath, Rick steeled himself for whatever might be on the other side. He paused, his hand hovering over the doorknob, heart pounding in his chest. With a swift motion, he twisted the knob and flung the door open, the sudden bang echoing through the house.

"Aaahh..." A surprised yelp pierced the air, and Rick's eyes widened in shock.

Standing in front of him was a woman, caught in the vulnerable act of changing her clothes. She stood frozen, her face a mask of horror, as she fumbled with her bra, her body half-exposed. Rick's eyes shamelessly roved over her form, taking in the sight of her smooth, pale skin, the curve of her waist, and the way her breasts moved slightly as she struggled to cover herself.

"Uh, whoa! Sorry, I didn't mean to... uh... barge in like that," Rick spoke instinctively, but soon frowned, "Wait a minute."

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"Who the hell are you?" Rick blurted out, his voice a mix of confusion and irritation. Yet, despite his outburst, he didn't look away. Instead, he kept staring at the woman, his gaze unapologetically fixated on her.

The woman had jet-black hair cascading down her shoulders and skin that seemed almost luminous in its paleness. She was slightly shorter than Rick, and he guessed she was in her mid to late twenties. She was undeniably beautiful, with striking features and a body that seemed to draw his gaze like a magnet.

As she hurriedly pulled on a white tank top and struggled into her tight blue jeans, Rick couldn't help but notice how the clothes accentuated her curves. Her breasts strained against the fabric of the tank top, and the jeans hugged her shapely ass, leaving little to the imagination.

Rick's eyes widened, greedily drinking in the sight before him. He let his gaze travel slowly over her exposed body, lingering on her curves and the delicate lines of her figure. The girl's cheeks flushed a deep red as she felt Rick's eyes roving over her, a mix of embarrassment and an unsettling vulnerability flooding her senses.

She felt incredibly shy under his intense gaze, her cheeks turning an even deeper shade of crimson. With one arm, she tried to cover herself, while the other fumbled to fasten her bra. Her movements were hurried and clumsy, her discomfort palpable.

Feeling Rick's lecherous gaze on her, the girl blushed deeply, her discomfort evident in her trembling hands as she struggled with her bra. In a weak voice, barely above a whisper, she pleaded, "Could you... turn away, please?"

Rick snapped out of his daze, the reality of the situation finally sinking in.

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Rick clicked his tongue and smirked, clearly enjoying the power he held in that moment. He let his eyes linger on her for a long, deliberate moment, his gaze moving languidly from her flushed face to her bare chest and back again, savoring every second. "Sure, no problem," he said finally, his voice dripping with amusement.

His lips curled into a smirk, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he slowly turned away, making it clear he appreciated the view he had just been granted.

As he turned, he cast a glance around the room, pretending to take an interest in the surroundings. "Nice room you've got here," he commented casually, his tone teasing and nonchalant.

The girl quickly finished dressing, her hands still trembling slightly from the adrenaline rush and embarrassment. She pulled on her bra with hurried movements, trying to regain some sense of dignity. Once she was fully done putting on her bra, she finally managed to steady her voice enough to speak. "Who... who are you?" she asked, trying to sound more confident than she felt. Discover exclusive content at novelbuddy

Rick turned back to face her, raising an eyebrow. "I should be asking you that," he retorted, a hint of annoyance creeping into his voice. "This is my father's house. And my room. What are you doing here?"

"You are Rick?" the woman asked a bit of surprise in her voice.

"That I am. You know me?" Rick found it intriguing that the girl actually knew him.

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The girl's hands trembling slightly as she scrambled to pull on her clothes. The embarrassment lingered, evident in the pink that stained her cheeks. She tried to compose herself, taking a deep breath before speaking. "You know, you could have knocked," she said, attempting to inject some authority into her voice despite her obvious discomfort and vulnerability.

Rick shrugged, the smirk still playing on his lips. "Didn't know I had to knock in my own house," he replied with a casual chuckle. "Besides, wasn't expecting anyone to be here. Definitely not someone using my room as a changing station."

He waited a moment longer, listening to the sounds of rustling clothes behind him. The soft, hurried movements indicated she was almost done. Finally, he heard a quiet, "Okay, you can turn around now." When he did, his eyes widened, taking in the sight before him.

The woman now stood fully dressed in a white tank top that hugged her figure snugly, the fabric stretched taut over her breasts, accentuating their fullness. Her tight blue jeans clung to her curves, highlighting the roundness of her hips and backside. The outfit showcased her figure in a way that was both casual and irresistibly attractive.

Her long, jet-black hair cascaded down her back, a striking contrast against her pale, flawless skin. She stood a bit shorter than Rick, probably in her mid to late twenties, with a delicate face that held a mix of defiance and embarrassment. Her bright, expressive eyes met his, challenging him even in her vulnerable state.

Rick couldn't help but notice the subtle details – the way her tank top slightly lifted as she adjusted it, the curve of her waist as she shifted from one foot to the other, the nervous way she bit her lower lip. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, there was an undeniable beauty and strength in her posture.

Rick clicked his tongue, his gaze unabashedly ogling her body. His eyes moved slowly, taking in her curves, lingering on her ample chest, before finally settling on her face. "Who are you, lady?" he demanded, his tone dripping with a mix of curiosity and irritation.

The woman shifted uncomfortably under his intense scrutiny, her fingers fidgeting nervously. "Um... I..."

Rick's expression turned impatient, his eyebrows knitting together in a frown. "Is your father back?" the woman asked suddenly, her voice shaky as she tried to divert his attention.

Rick's brows furrowed, his tone sharpening. "My father? What does he have to do with anything?"

The woman hesitated, her discomfort evident in her every movement. "Umm... You should ask him yourself," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Ask him myself? What the hell is going on here?" Rick's confusion deepened, his mind racing with possibilities. Determined to get to the bottom of this, he turned abruptly and headed for the door. Just as he reached it, he almost collided with his father, who was standing right behind him, his face a mask of surprise.

"What's going on in here?" Rick demanded, his voice heavy with seriousness and a hint of accusation.

His father's face went pale, and he stammered, struggling to find his words. "Rick, I can explain..." he began, his voice faltering.

Rick crossed his arms, his expression stern. "Well, I'm waiting," he said, his tone demanding answers.

Rick's father was at a loss of words as his gaze turned towards the woman, silently asking for her help.

The woman stepped forward, her voice soft and tentative. "Maybe I should explain..." she began, glancing nervously at Rick and then at his father.

Rick's father nodded, a look of relief washing over his face. "Yes, go ahead, dear. Tell him what happened."

She took a deep breath, her eyes flickering between Rick and his father. "A few days ago, your father found me lying unconscious by the roadside," she started, her voice quivering slightly. "I had a head injury, and I was bleeding. He took me to the hospital."

Rick's stern expression softened slightly as he looked at his father. "Is that true?" he asked, a hint of concern creeping into his voice.

His father nodded, his eyes serious. "Yes, son. She was in bad shape, and she had no identification on her. The doctors said she had amnesia—she couldn't remember anything about herself."

Rick looked back at the woman, his curiosity piqued. "So, you don't remember who you are?" he asked, his tone gentler now, but he looked at her in suspicion.

She shook her head, her eyes welling up with tears. "No. I don't remember anything before waking up in the hospital. Your father has been kind enough to let me stay here while I recover."

Rick's gaze softened as he listened to her story. "And you've just been staying here since then?" he asked, trying to piece everything together.

She nodded, looking down at her hands, which she wrung nervously. "Yes. Your father has been very kind. He's been helping me try to remember, but so far, nothing's come back."

Rick's father stepped forward, placing a reassuring hand on Rick's shoulder. "I couldn't just leave her there, Rick. She had nowhere else to go, and she needed help."

Rick sighed, his irritation giving way to a mix of sympathy and frustration. "Alright, but why didn't you tell me?" he asked, feeling a bit hurt that his father had kept this from him.

His father looked down, shame evident in his posture. "I tried a few times. I told you I had something important to tell you. But I couldn't say it over the phone. That is why..."

"I hope you are telling the truth. Because all those words earlier, will be all for nothing if you are lying to me.."

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