“Maybe the neighborhood is on fire and it’s an evacuation,” I say. Every bad thing imaginable crosses my mind and there’s no way I can ignore it any longer.

“It’s probably just Sam coming to check and see if our curtains match the couch,” Deacon teases.

“Don’t ever mention your brother when we’re having sex,” I say. “I didn’t think there was anything you could possibly do to turn me off, but you might’ve just found the one thing.”

He laughs and smacks me on the butt.

“Please, I need to go check,” I say. “I can’t focus on us until I do.”

Deacon sighs. “All right. I’ll go check it out.”

“No,” I say, climbing off of him and wrapping my robe around me. “You stay and keep that thing hard for when I come back.”

He smiles at me and takes hold of his massive cock, stroking it.

wink at him

a knot. I jog into the living room. When I open the door, I’m not

me, looking up and down from my mussed up hair to my bare feet. She’s a bit older than me. In her thirties. Closer to Deacon’s age. She has bleached hair with long dark roots. Not the kind that’s fashionable right now, but the kind a woman gets when she neglects to keep her salon appointments. She wears an oversized hooded sweatshirt and jeans with boots, and too much makeup. Her thin lips and the harsh set of

help

she

standing there with

to see. His mouth falls open in surprise, then closes, his

the picture. She’s not ugly, really, just … harsh. Like someone who is scraping

6

Deacon

nearly six months ago. Not a phone call. Not a text. One night she drained

Now here she is.

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