AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The gate is open, like some kind of direct invitation from Lucifer. Okay, I lose focus. With my car still at a standstill, I lean over and squint to read what is written above the gate: “Bomley Property.”
I hold back a grunt. I don’t even know the last name of the intense-eyed idiot. I may actually be entering the domain of an old psychopath who will greet me with a rifle and a scream.
Come on Iris, you’re not a wimp!
After all, I’m the one who played it smart by accepting Tucker’s invitation. Besides, I want to know what’s going on over there…
But a bad feeling comes over me, as if I’m not going to find a simple crowd dancing and drinking cheap beer.
A bang a few hundred feet away shuts down my thoughts. I jump and hold back a curse. Was that really a gunshot? It can’t be!
Before I chicken out again, I go through the gate and follow a second gravel path. There is an alley of trees surrounding it as if to hide the view of the whole surrounding landscape from us. Finally, lights dot the sides of the road.
In another minute, I arrive in a circular drive. In the center of this driveway is a huge fountain, currently dry—let us note the utility of the thing. The structure represents a naked woman looking straight ahead.
Here is the wolves’ domain.
Behind the statue, a huge mansion stands. Its structure reminds me of the buildings of the Victorian era. The large white walls and the dark roof are held by large columns, also white. The numerous windows do not let me see anything of the interior. Only one of them is lit, probably with good reason. I take a look around. There are no cars here except mine.
I roll down my window and hear noises in the distance. Music, laughter…I see another path, on the right, which goes around the house, and I take it.
Believe me, the owner is going to pay me for a full tank of gas.
The noises get a little louder. Along the road, dozens of cars are parked directly on the lawn.
Okay, so is this a garden party, or what?
There are a few streetlights planted here and there on the estate, allowing me to see my surroundings. I park next to a Cadillac and start walking towards the lawn when I hear some female laughter. Two girls are kissing—wait, two girls share a man’s mouth against the door of a car, three feet away.
If I’ve just been invited to an orgy, thanks but no thanks. Genitals that go everywhere don’t enter mine. I don’t want to turn into a walking STD.
Noticing the girls’ outfits, namely, their tiny dresses, I think that my shorts jeans and black camisole might not have been the right thing to wear, but never mind.
A light wind blows my red hair out of my face. Luckily my hair is short. I’d hate for it to tangle up like spaghetti in the slightest wind.
I don’t recognize most of the people I walk by. Most of them are overexcited and shout to communicate.
“Hello, beauty,” a pretty brunette greets me while passing by, her eyes full of lust.
With a pinched mouth, I nod and go on my way. The road stops. My boots sink into the lawn. I swear to God that the first person to step on me will end up castrated.
My eyes suddenly lock onto a spot in the distance, right in the middle of the estate’s lawn, where a huge fire is burning about 100 feet high. Are we all supposed to burn the forest together, or what?
Music coming from who knows where roars over the small crowd. Alcohol is flowing. Some are dancing. A girl is sitting on the lap of a guy sitting on the ground, making out with him as though nothing is happening around them.
I search the place, looking for a familiar face. I see TJ from afar, but he seems busy. He goes from group to group and whispers something to some, whose faces light up. The others are obviously waiting for TJ to lean in as well, and they hardly hide their disappointment when he walks away. The few chosen ones to whom he has spoken go towards a small path, further away, and I follow them for a moment with my eyes before returning my attention to the flames, which I move a little closer to. I’m cold, and it’s none of my business where those people are going.
I’m starting to think that it’s not so bad after all, when I hear a crack right behind me.
I’m sure someone is standing right there, unabashedly staring at my back and neck. I don’t turn around, instead listening for the slightest noise. It’s like a presence is filling my whole living space without asking permission. And I’ve felt that way before, when a slightly too sexy, different-colored eyes asshole was around.
At the risk of sounding like a weirdo, I cross my arms, pout skeptically, and loudly declare, “So, this is the little party? Easy girls and easy guys stripping on the floor? I’ve seen worse.” No one answers me. I continue, still staring at the flames, “Is Mr. Grey hidden between the trees, ready to give us a little demonstration?”
Finally, an answer comes to me: a deep, powerful laughter sounds right behind me. Bingo.
The footsteps come closer. Tucker doesn’t touch me, but he may as well. The heat of the flames warms my face, and the heat of his body warms my back. Unable to bear it, I take a step to the side and turn toward him.
His arms are also crossed over his broad chest. His head is tilted to the side as he analyzes me. His black hair is slightly wavy, and his beard is a little longer than usual. His torso is molded by a simple black T-shirt and his thighs in denim.
