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Haunting-Adeline

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I grab her hand, basking in the feel of her skin against mine as I guide her

out of the room. I wait un l it seems all eyes have turned away from us

and slip through the door and out into a grand hallway.

Now would be a perfect me to search the house, see what I can

discover in a pedophile’s safe space. But selfishly, I want to ease some of

the building tension swelling in Addie's shoulders.

She’s doing fucking amazing so far. Despite the obvious nerves, she’s

managed to make every single person in the room fall in love with her. If

anything, her shy, innocent demeanor and suave words are these people’s

daily dose of whatever prescrip on pills keep them sane.

I’m equal parts impressed and perturbed by her. Because all this woman

has managed to do is make these people want to see her again. And that’s

the last thing both of us want.

I slide out my phone and shoot off a quick message to Jay, asking him to

take care of the security cameras. I’ve spo ed dozens just from the

entrance to the ballroom, and I’m sure Mark has a team ac vely watching

to make sure no one does exactly what we’re doing now.

Mark would be alerted immediately and we would be caught before we

even got a chance to have fun.

Jay confirms the cameras are set, and Addie and I take off. Her heels click

against the led floor as we sneak through the maze of hallways and

rooms.

Occasionally, I open up doors and peek inside, finding nothing of

interest. That is un l we get somewhere far enough away that the noise

from the ballroom no longer penetrates the walls.

At the end of another hallway are wide double doors, the cherry wood

standing out against the champagne walls.

I head towards the doors, Addie barely keeping up behind me. “Zade, we

shouldn’t be sneaking around. We’re going to get in trouble,” she pleads,

glancing behind her as if someone is hot on her heels. It’s the fi h me

she’s said that since we le the ballroom, yet her eyes are dilated with

excitement.

She’s not fooling me when she wears her arousal on her sleeve. She’s

scared. Nervous. And that feeling never fails to make her pussy dripping

wet.

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