Haunting-Adeline

Zade picks me up in a classic Mustang. The metal gleams in the
moonlight, glin ng off the rock in the sky as if it was built to be seen a er
sundown.
Shakily, I make my way down the porch steps. I wrap my long trench coat
ghter around my body, partly to ward off the chill and partly to ward off
the anxiety s rring in my gut.
I can’t tell if I have a bad feeling about tonight or not. What I do know is
that whatever happens, I’m going to see Zade in an en rely new light and
discover new things about him. Things that might make me hate him
more… or less.
And the la er is what I’m scared of most.
Before I can make my way to the car, his driver’s side door is swinging
open, and a suit-clad leg is stepping out.
Oxygen crystallizes in my lungs as Zade takes one last hit of his cigare e
before flicking it to the ground and stomping it out. Smoke billows from his
mouth as he looks at me from beneath hooded eyes.
Jesus Christ.
“You shouldn’t li er,” I say hoarsely, earning a slight grin in return. He
bends and picks up the cigare e bu and deposits it in his pocket.
“Sorry, baby,” he rasps. “Won’t happen again.”
I can hardly say thank you when I’m too enraptured by the dark God
before me.
He’s absolutely breathtaking. And I’d like to blame the cold autumn air
on the ice in my lungs, but I know be er.
Zade is adorned in an all-black suit. Every single inch of the fabric
s tched to the exact millimeter of his body. It fits him impeccably, molding
to his muscular arms, trimmed waist, and thick thighs.
My knees weaken, along with my resolve.
I have the most insane urge to turn around, walk back in that house,
bend over the couch and let him fuck the rest of whatever sanity I have le
out of me.
I want to be delirious from his cock, and to make ma ers worse, I know
he would absolutely surpass every one of my expecta ons if I let him.
God?
I don’t even get to finish that thought before he’s walking towards me, a
sinfully dark smirk on his face.