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For probably the first time since I came to Navesink Bank, a deep sort of sadness hung over me as I left the manse and worked my shift.

I guess I thought that I would be able to compartmentalize it, to keep it all at a distance.

But the longer I was there, the better I was getting to know Edmund, and therefore give a shit about him. And his health.

It had been a long while since I had to care about anyone other than myself.

I hadn’t been prepared for the dark cloud it put over my head even hours later as I drove back from the bar, up the winding driveway past the brightly-lit mansion, and back toward my guest house.

Where my headlights caught a movement that shouldn’t have been there.

A shadow that was too big to be anything other than a grown man.

For a second, my stomach clenched, thinking it was maybe Frederick, wanting to corner me again.

But then the shadowy figure pushed off the building and came more fully into the lights.

And there he was.

Looking better than I remembered.

Dezi.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Dezi

She didn’t meet me inside like she said she was going to.

And I was more bent out of shape about that than I should have been.

Not because we’d started something that I thought we both wanted to finish. Though, yeah, that was a part of it for sure.

But because I just kind of… dug her. I liked her vibe. She was a little prickly, a little sarcastic, definitely jaded, but there was something soft and sweet under all that, I knew it.

And, somehow, I found myself wanting to uncover those parts of her.

But she’d bounced while I was singing happy birthday and scheming on the best pieces of the cake.

I ended up eating both our slices outside by myself as I replayed her moans and writhing and hair pulling as I ate her out.

If we hadn’t been interrupted, shit would have progressed.

But, clearly, running off without a word was her way of telling me to fuck off.

And I had to respect that.

For days, I did.

But, see, the thing was… I was taking a drive to clear my head of the fucking nonstop thoughts of her, when I saw it.

A peacock.

A white peacock.

It had to be the one she’d been talking about. I mean, I’d been in Navesink Bank for a while. Peacocks weren’t exactly common. The only one I’d ever seen was on a farm.

Let’s just say that curiosity got the better of me.

I parked down the road so no one would call the cops on the suspicious bike parked on the street with all the fancy-ass houses.

It wasn’t the neighborhood that lined the Navesink, but the one right behind it, full of lush lawns and mature trees, wrought iron fences and brick platforms for the mailboxes.

It was a fancy-ass area is what I’m saying.

Hence the peacocks.

So I took a walk behind the house next door—the only one without any fences or cameras that I could see—and then hopped over the fence at the very back of the property where the trees were thick.

Night had fallen since I’d parked my bike and started my walk, so the peacocks had disappeared, but I did see a lake where the swan probably hung out all day, waiting for his Fiona to shake Scotty and come hang.

It was a great property for animals. A couple of mini cows, maybe some mini goats. Oh, and those fucking fluffy-ass babydoll sheep. Some chickens. One of those big-ass turkeys with the tails and the jiggly bits under its face.

That’s not to mention how many different animals you could fit into the house that looked to be a good ten to twelve thousand square feet.

A couple dogs, maybe a cat, one of those giant-ass reptiles that needs its own room.

A mini pig went without saying.

But it sounded like Theo wasn’t staying in the big house. For reasons that just didn’t make sense to me as I walked around, she was renting out the guest house.

I mean, yeah, it was a fancy-ass guest house. White with black shutters, a mini version of the mansion toward the front of the property. Small, but two floors and vines creeping up the walls, giving it a cottage feel.

All the lights were off, though, and Theo’s car was gone. Probably off doing another shift at Redemption, where I was trying like hell not to go. To corner her. To force her to interact with me.

That was the kind of shit creepy guys did. I couldn’t be that guy.

Somehow, though, I was the kind of creepy-ass guy who shows up at a woman’s house when she wasn’t home.

I was just about to turn around and head out, go give my liver a solid workout, when the headlights came down the path and landed on me.


Tags: Jessica Gadziala Henchmen MC Next Generation Erotic