Neon Red: Chapter 18

“But I caaaaan’t move Maxi, I swear to you I can’t.” Max stood over Chrissy and laughed at her theatrics. The cute, bubbly blonde was flat on her back and ready to cry again. She threw out a hand, and Max tried to help her up. “My body doesn’t work anymore. Just throw me in the ocean.”
“See, this is why I don’t date Scorpios.” Jordan’s input made Max laugh, but Chrissy glared at the man.
“Not funny, you bitch.”
“I may be a slut, but at least I’ll sleep without a broken heart. Ah! Ndari!”
“Leave her alone, Jordan, she’s in enough pain.”
“Come on, baby.” Max pulled Chrissy up, and the girl whined, but got to her feet that were tucked in strappy heels. She never wore sneakers or boots; she’d rather saw her feet off than wear anything below six inches.
“We only have two hours left.” Chrissy slumped over the counter. “You can do iiiit.”
“We’re not gonna get customers anyway,” Jordan said, with a massive dose of irritation. They had two walk-ins and no appointments. Which, given her father’s financial matters, wasn’t good. Business needed to pick up, and like now. Either that or accept Jaxon’s offer.
“I shoulda’ called out. It’s shit, niiiight, Maxi. I canceled a dick appointment for this.”
Rounding behind the counter, she smiled at Ndari and shrugged. “Sorry, can’t relate.”
“That’s because you have Low slinging his tally whacker in your face all day.”
Max giggled and opened her sketch book. Grabbing a pencil, she sighed at the eyes staring back. She’d added color two days ago.
“Low was only a participant last night.”
“Uuuuugghhh.” Jordan stomped his big foot and groaned. “Here we go. Another threesome, I take it? I hate you. You get laid more than anyone I know.”
Ndari nudged her. “Who was it this time? A construction worker from your dad’s job. A model who wanted to kiss you, or a girl who had cute hair. Oooo, what about—oh, dear lor,d this is beautif, ul Maxi. Who is this?”
She sighed again. “Jaxon Aubrey.”
“Who?”
“Jaxon, the redhead.”
Chrissy popped up from what may have turned into a power nap. “The snazzy fella that came in here the other night? Oh my god!”
“I knew he liked women!” Jordan stopped sweeping and deflated. “He looks like a pussy beater.”
Max clicked her tongue ring, “Naaahhhh. He loves himself some dick too,”
The lumberjack dropped the Libman and gasped. “No way, bitch. Please, do tell.”
“I am gonna kill you.” Ndari barked, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It just happened last night. And it is not happening again.”
Chrissy grimaced. “Cause of your weirdo rule about second dates? Live it up, sweet cheeks! I do, and I’m one hundred and forty-five.”
“Old skank,” Jordan blurted.
“Troglodyte. Go wash that hobo beard, it smells like gym socks.”
Jordan flipped Chrissy off as the bell rang. Their group scattered, revealing the last person Max wanted to see. Despite how nice he was, she didn’t want to deal with him.
“I hope you don’t mind. Tracy told me where to find you.”
Ndari was perplexed, glancing at Max. “Uhm, I’ll go restock your room.”
Raymond stepped to the counter, and Max wanted to scream. Maybe curse and knock this man in the head with the cash register. If he died, their problems were over.
Slamming her book closed, she battened down the hatches on her attitude. This wasn’t his fault; they were both stuck in the middle. Although he probably wasn’t involved in his father’s affairs. Max had her reasons. The allowance was barely enough to care for everyone.
“Uh, no. It’s fine. You might as well see where I work and what it is I do.”
Raymond meandered and stared at the cluttered wall of art.
“I don’t have any tattoos, never thought to get one. Looks painful.”
“It’s not so bad once you get used to the needle. It can actually become quite addicting.”
He smiled and dragged kind eyes over to her. “I can tell. Not a single person I know with tattoos has only one.”
“Nope, can’t say I met anybody with one tat. They’re like unicorns or—”
“Mermaids.”
She blushed and gestured to the one on her neck. “Yes, exactly.”
Raymond sighed and looked out the window, then returned to Max. “I was wondering if we could go somewhere and talk, if you’re able.”
“You know what? I can’t.”
Chrissy appeared with a pristine smile and golden ringlets. “I got ya, girly, go on. I’ll lock up. Might leave earl,y though. It’s dry as my mother’s apple pie.”
“You sure?” Max grimaced.”
“Yes, hun, go.”
Ndari squeezed her arm and smirked. “I want you to text me when you get home.” She made eye contact with the mal,e and Max snickered. “The moment you get in.”
“I will, Mom. Don’t worry. Can you open tomorrow?”
“Like I did tonight?” Ndari cocked a brow. “Yeah, sure. For the tenth time this week.”
“I lovvve you.” Shouldering her purse, Max pointed at Jordan. “I want you booked by next Friday, and I mean it. All of you. Tilt will be back from vacation in a week, I don’t wanna hear his mouth about how he’s the goat or some shit.”
“It’s so quiet without him.” Jordan’s disdain for Tilt was due to his crushing…and bad.
“Okay, I’ll see y’all. Be good!”
Max let Raymond lead, and the gentleman opened the door.
“Thank you kindly.”
“No problem.”
Miami heat, brine,e and moisture stuck to her skin. A shower was next in line after a meal. She followed her escort, and he stopped in front of the Mercedes E-class. Damn, talk about saucy. Raymond remained helpful and allowed her to get in first.
“Thanks.”
Once safely buckled, he ran to the driver’s side. The interior was lavish and smelled of men’s Cologne. He started the engine,e and Ronald Isley came on just in time.
“Oh my god, I love the Isley Brothers.”
“What?” Raymond grinned as he started off to wherever they were going. “Me too, and this one? That Lady is my jam.”
“You got good taste, my man.”
“So, it’s Friday and 1am. Where would you like to go? There are a few 24-hour spots around here.”
“The Tavern,” Max prompted. “I go there a lot, especially this time of night. It’s close, and they have great fish and chips.”
“Ohh yeah, I know the place, Hotel Croyen, right?”
“Exactly. It’s legit, six minutes away. Right on Collins.”
Raymond smiled. “The Tavern it is.”
There wasn’t much of a trip at one in the morning, but they filled the time talking about music. He had a love for golden oldies, that was it.
“Must be fate, look at this. Right in front, gosh.”
Gosh, she thought. Did the male even cuss? To be fair, not everyone did, but Max needed to say ‘shit’ at least once a da,y or she’d explode somehow. After Raymond paralleled like a master, he got out and beat her to the door.
“Are you gonna do that every time?” Max asked.
“If left up to me, yes.”
She snickered and paced to The Tavern. Sensing him on her heels, Max looked back. “They have wonderful apps, and the Nutella waffle? Holy shit.” Being a woman on her own, she didn’t like to be waited on hand and foot, so she ran for the door. “Ha! Too slow, honey! You gotta be quicker than that if you rolling with me, now.”
Raymond chuckled as she made way inside. Fried food and coffee tickled her nose as cool jazz played at a hushed volume. The all-hour diner was packed and bustling. Waiters whipped to and fro carrying trays, while others jotted orders with a smile.
“I did not think it would be this busy,” Raymond said.
“Mhm. Kids are starting to come in from everywhere. This time next week, we’d have to wait an hour to get a seat.”
“How many?” the cute hostess asked.
“Just two,” Raymond replied.
Raymond handled formalities while Max headed for the exit. A fifteen-minute wait wasn’t much, but she didn’t want to pass it by standing around.
“Uh, outside?” Max pointed to the door and strolled back out. The heat be damned, it was stuffy in the waiting area with nowhere to sit. At least they had a bench to kill time on. Dropping her ass on down, Max rifled through her bag. “Where is…god dam—oh, found it.”
With her hooka—instead of vape—in hand, she turned the thing on and inhaled all that cherry goodness.
“Oh, shit. I’m sorry. Do you mind?”
Raymond shook his head. “Nope. Have at it. I smoked a joint once, back in college.”
She giggled at such an innocent answer. His admittance didn’t surprise her. This male came from money. He was well educated and straight as a fresh line.
They’d been given the same opportunities, but Max hated the square, trad wife bull shit. Pressed, prim, and proper had turned wicked within.
Raymond was nice. The Black hipster, aci berry, and oat milk smoothie quality worked for him.
His locs were tight, neat, and in a masculine updo. Something most men would appreciate. Ripped jeans and a plaid button-up screamed Ambicrombie, though. Other than his whack ass attire, he seemed affable with a non-threatening, soft coral stare.
“It’s not weed,” Max stressed. “I don’t smoke Mary Jane. It’s hookah.”
“What’s that?”
Max pulled the metal tip from her lips and examined it. She smiled and said, “I don’t really know.”
“You’re smoking a mysterious substance?”
“I mean…” She looked at it again. “Well, shit, yeah. It tastes nice. I think it’s tobacco of some sort.”
Raymond grinned, his pearly whites making a brief appearance. “You live on the edge, I see.”
“This ain’t even close to the edge, Raymond.”
“Call me Ray.”
“Okay, Ray. You can call me Max.” Before inhaling, she sighed. “Sorry about running out on you the other night.”
“Don’t apologize, I understand. This is… I don’t even have the words for it. I hadn’t planned for this. My Father barged into my house yelling commands. Stating how I had get married.” His shoulders sagged, and his expression darkened. “I never wanted to get married. I don’t want to. You seem like a decent woman…I just, I’m not ready for any of this.”
Max gave him a second to fume; hell, they both needed it. She didn’t want this either, nor was she ready, or fit to be anyone’s wife.
Pushing smoke through her nose, she shrugged. “If I didn’t need my Dad’s money, I’d be gone.”
Ray scoffed. “I wish it were monetary for me. I’ve been doing what Matthias wants my whole life. Became a Lawyer for him. I’m the Viscount’s personal attorney. Just like he wanted. Now, I’m getting married. With little hope of him acknowledging any of it… Oh, Max, forgive me. I don’t mean to trauma dump.”
“Don’t say sorry for shit. We’re in a fucked up predicament, and if you ever need to vent, I’m here. I’d rant, but it is what it is. Can’t blame anyone but myself, really.”
Raymond rested his elbows on his knees and looked back at her. “Thank you for not telling me to go shove it.”
“I know how an overbearing and controlling parent can be. Lived my entire life with one. I know your pain, bruh. Not to change the subject or anything, but uh, how old are you?”
“Fifty-one.”
Max high whistled at such a low ass number. “Whew, baby, you fresh meat. Hey now, you better be careful, I might let you get to know me.”
The male blushed hard and straightened. “How about you? I don’t want to ask a lady overtly. That’s highly inappropriate.”
Max took another hit and wrinkled her nose. “I’ll be a centennial next year.”
Ray’s eyes popped. “Wow, gosh.”
“I know, I know. I’m an old lady, but I got style and sass. I can teach you a few thangs, don’t you know?”
He beamed and said, “I believe that, but no. I was going to say you don’t look a day over twenty-one…as expected. But you fit in with this time so well. Not many of us do. You obviously shop at Hot Topic.
Max exploded in genuine laughter. She crackled and tapped his arm. “Was that your attempt at a joke?”
“Maybe, was it bad?”
“No, I liked it.” She snorted and stashed her hookah in the bag. “I love expression. In all forms, Body art and modification is an excellent outlet for someone like me. I love piercings, and I definitely want more. I forget how many I have.”
“I counted two in your nose and one in your lip there.” She was impressed by how fast he noted everything. “Nine on your left ear, annnnd four on your right.”
“You, sir, are correct. But you’re missing some.”
He frowned. “I am, where? I don’t—”
Max extended her tongue, shutting him right the fuck up. The male recoiled and blushed again. He looked elsewhere and cleared his throat. “You have one just there… in—yeah, there it is.”
She buckled down on a bout of giggles. “I’m gonna get a cross bar real fuckin’ soon though.”
“Whatever that is.” He nodded and glanced her way.
“It’s a horizontal piercing.”
“Ohhhh, okay. That looks like it hurts really bad.” Raymond grimaced.
“Nope, a quick stab and it’s all done. Plus, we heal quick. An hour or two and donezo.”
“Hm. Well, if it’s any consolation, they suit you.”
Now she diverted attention. To the ground, her shoes, and various couples enjoying a late night out. God, Max didn’t want to do this.
Raymond wasn’t who she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. More to the point, she didn’t want to get married. But her luck was shit, and there was no going back.
“Thank you,” Max said. “I do it for me, not for acceptance.”
“Good for you.” Raymond’s reply held zero snark. He spoke genuinely, but the slice of sadness gave her pause. Max wanted to find out why, but his name came through the speakers.
“That’s us.” Max chimed.
Bouncing up, Ray showcased a palm. “Oh my god, what is that?” He pointed, and Max jumped, prepared to wield her taser. Spinning around, she saw nothing.
“Made you look.” The male’s voice got her attention. She laughed at the corny shit as he stood there with the door open.
“After you, m’lady.”
Max snapped her fingers. “You got me, Ray. I’m gonna have to keep my eye on you.”
“That you will.”

Ooooop, I bet y’all thought I was going to forget, huh? Nahhh. I gotchu! As long as y’all read it, I will publish new chapters. I want to finish this book so y’all can hate me for the second! No, because I’m serious, you’re probably gonna hop into my inbox afterward. Buuuuut, don’t fret, it’s all gonna be okay. But not for Max. (insert crying emoji) She and Raymond are being put through helllll. When I wrote this book, I was so into torturing these poor souls. I was all about putting my characters through the absolute worst. And I think that speaks to how dark my own life was at the time. I was trapped with a violent, abusive man. I felt as though I had nowhere to go. Like I’d lost all autonomy. I wrote this series to give myself hope and to vent, kind of. Yes, the road to our HEA is rough, but it’ll be worth it. This was the story both Max and I wanted to tell. And you know what? I’m happy I wrote it, but I’m even happier that y’all are reading it. Thank you so much for stopping by, and please stay cool. It’s hotter than hell, and Y’ALL, my AC is broken. I live in Vegas. Send me SNOWWWWW! Anyway, y’all have a beautiful night and see you next week, bookie.

Chapter 13: Wild Ride

Jasper had nothing staring down the small, mighty woman. Nieema was an undeniable force. Her words were honest; Jasper tasted not a single lie. The confession simultaneously scared and comforted her. This person, these strangers, both Buck and Nieema, stood in her corner. Without question or hesitation.
“I don’t know what to say,” Jasper whispered, touching and pinching her chains.
“You don’t have to say anything.”
Jasper may have been taller, but Nieema was the protector here.
“Okay.”
The vampiress gave a curt nod and said, “You’re safe with me, deary.”
Nieema patted the hand at her throat. “No need to be anxious, now. I ain’t gon’ bite.”
The air shifted, from tense to flirtatious, and Jasper was thankful.
“I do.”
“Tuhuh!” Nieema pursed her lips and spun on her boot heels, heading their journey once more. “With fangs like yours, you had better.”
Jasper dared not blush, though her cheeks heated all the same. Lucky for her, Nieema didn’t catch it. Sure, she was a succubus and had years, decades, a century of courting under her belt, but this… a vampire? She’d never crossed a line with one, and their intensity was a great reason not to.
Jasper burned hot on her own; she didn’t need another passionate soul in her bed. And what were vampires if not the embodiment of passion?
“Where are you off to?”
“I already told you.”
Following Nieema around the corner, she caught up with her in three skips. At five-two-ish, the woman’s tiny legs didn’t take her too far.
“Okay, buuuuut why are we walking away from your truck?”
“We ain’t taking my truck.”
“Theennn—“
“You see that?” Nieema motioned toward a cluster of grazing horses. “That’s our ride.”
Jasper squealed and clapped. “Horses?! We’re gonna ride? Oh my under gods! It’s been years since I saddled up.”
Nieema scoffed and said, “You being a rider don’t surprise me none.”
“You’re terrible.”
“You been warned.”
They shared a silent, fleeting moment and smiled. Jasper tucked hands into her skirt pockets and set her sights on the pasture. It was better than ogling or touching the woman without permission. Her fingers twitched and palms itched with an odd desire to stroke Nieema’s full cheek.
“Why don’t you have a stable?” Jasper asked.
“No need, these are my wildlings.”
“Your, what?”
Nieema whistled high, and it carried. The resonant peal was more of a serenade, a calling. The herds response was immediate. They galloped and trotted toward them with alarming speed. The ground rumbled with their swift approach. Jasper stepped back, preparing to run if needed. She wasn’t in the mood to be trampled, squashed, or bedridden for the next week.
Granted, demons healed quicker than most, but she’d never fractured her spine or skull.
A sharp, short whistle from Nieema stopped every last horse. Jasper was astounded by their width and height. The snorting and wild group shone in shades of red, brown, and evergreen.
Majestic and beautiful, gold, silver, and red petted their wavy manes.
“What breed?”
“Murkwood. They are large enough to carry an orc and their wares.”
“Magnificent,” Jasper muttered, assessing a fine speckled horse with blue irises and horns. They snorted and nudged her. “Hello, beautiful.”
“That’s Pots, she likes you.”
“And I like her. Haaay Pots.”
The animal gave another snuffle, and Jasper laughed, patting Pot’s snout. “You are a lovely girl.”
“She is, but we ain’t riding her. She’ll throw your ass off and laugh about it. Chester!”
The bulky red horse pranced, circling them.
“You not cute! Why you showing out in front of company? Get over here, you diva.”
Chester was happy to greet Nieema, and she him. They were adorable, and Chester was intelligent. His searching eyes and telling dance spoke of his effervesant personality.
“Now, you wanna get on up?” Nieema asked.
Jasper quirked a brow and gestured. “How? Chester is taller than me! I don’t see stirrups, a saddle, or reins.“
“They’re too smart for all that shit, trust me. They know where to go, when to stop, and when to move ass.”
Jasper knew horses; undervell didn’t have cars. They had the railway and carriages, pulled by a demon-bred horse. She’d been taught to ride at the age of four. So yeah, she understood these creatures, but never had she seen them perform on their own without direction. Even human-bred mares and stallions needed instruction.
“Does this have something to do with magic?”
Nieema’s slow smile was to die for. The show of fang wasn’t bad either.
“Nowww ya getting it. You want my help?”
“Sure, yeah, okay. Give me a boos—whoa!”
Nieema had clutched Jasper by the waist and hoisted her high. “Mind that skirt, girl.”
On the horse, Jasper giggled and patted their flank. She peered down, into Nieema’s prodding gaze. “You and Mr Sunside think y’all are slick. You’re not. But you are the first woman to pick me up. I’m feeling a way about that.”
“Good, I hope you do.”
Nieema jumped and mounted with ease, only a gravity-defying goddess possessed. She settled in front of Jasper and tapped her calf.
“You gon’ wanna hold on to me, Chester don’t know how to do nothing slow.”
“If this is your way of getting me to touch you—“
A terse whistle put Chester in motion. Jasper yelped as she was almost thrown from the steed.
“Hollly shit!” She wrapped arms around Nieem’s plush waist and tucked her face into the woman’s hair.
“I told you.”
Jasper laughed as Chester galloped towards the mountainside. As if Nieema cracked a whip, his speed ratcheted until scenery blurred and Jasper’s ribs rattled. Wind rushed between her horns and set her free. Jasper had never been one for flying; she hated it, naturally. Most demons preferred both or all four hooves on the ground.
“Is he going to stop?!” Jasper shouted, heart beating somewhere in her ass. She had never been in a wreck, even when learning how to drive a motorized vehicle. The thought of a head-on collision terrified her, and what about the horse?
“There’s a gate! He should stop! Chester! He has a death wish!”
The speed demon stopped on a dime, mere feet from towering iron gates. Nieema erupted in shrieking laughter and dismounted in a single fluid motion.
“It’s not funny,” Jasper snapped.
“Yeah, it was, you were scared as a spring chicken with a fox on its tail. Come.” At the ready, Nieema outstretched her arms and smiled. “Don’t worry, I’ll catch ya.”
Right into her trap.
Jasper groaned and shook her head, but slid down into Nieema’s embrace. She was small but strong. It was no surprise with her being a vampire and all, but it still caught Jasper off guard. Not too many lifted a woman of her size. Standing at six-feet-tall, before heels, with a good three hundred pounds on her, most weren’t physically equipped to handle Jasper. Let alone someone a full foot shorter than her.
On her own two feet, Jasper cleared her throat and removed her hands from Nieema’s shoulders. “Thank you.”
“You are most welcome.” Nieema snapped her cuffs and righted the knot at her throat. “Now… where is that—“
“Seven!”
A voice echoed from behind a shack with one window and two empty chairs.
“You summa bitch! That ain’t them trick dice, is they?”
“Hell nah. I’d never cheat you, Leroy.”
“You a ghat damn lie!”
“Just roll, and hurry up.”
Jasper snickered at their back and forth. It was playful, familiar, and entertaining. At least until Nieema cocked a brow and knocked on the box.
“Who in the—we expecting somebody?” A slim man dressed in a dapper waistcoat, trousers, and a pocket chain slid from behind the shack. “Tomorrowwwww. shit! Get up, Roy. Get—“ The fellow snatched the other, his identical twin, to his feet. “Majesty.”
“What in hell are y’all supposed to be doin’?” Nieema asked, scarlet stare bouncing between the two.
There wasn’t much difference in their dark complexion or their features, aside from the hair; it’d be hard to tell them apart if Jasper weren’t a Succubus.
The brother with short, rainbow locs bowed at the waist, smelling like gun smoke and lilac. “Majesty, we do so apologize. Yes, we are on guard duty. But Leroy and I were taking much-needed respite.”
Nieema crossed her arms and sucked her teeth. “Really? And just how long was this break?”
Leroy cleared his throat and fixed the bat pin on his cravat. “Thirty—thirty minutes, madam.”
Compared to his brother, Leroy was airy, like fresh linen and the first day of spring. He was lighter and not the one with a pistol on his hip.
“I see.” Nieema hummed. “Do I need to give some constructive feedback? Mose?”
“No, madam.” Mose flicked his swirling maroon gaze over and assessed. Jasper stared, knowing what lay behind his quick read. “Shall we ring?“
“No.”
Mose elbowed Leroy. The vampire hurried into their tiny hut. With the press of a button, gates creaked and parted, just enough for their entry. An impenetrable void stood before them. It was a flat, matte darkness she’d never seen a day in her life. And for someone born in Undervell, that was rare. She’d been exposed to every shade and shape of darkness imaginable.
This was a magical abyss, she was certain.
Jasper had never breached a mountainside nor a cave and was a little nervous about it. She inched closer to Nieema and followed her brisk step.
“Your brother lives in a mountain?”
“Mostly.”
As they crossed into bleak nothingness, Jasper screwed her eyes shut. She didn’t know what to expect and wasn’t fond of underground tunnels and such. She’d hated the idea of getting stuck, rendered immobile by rock and dirt. It freaked her the hell out.
“Jasper?”
“Yes?”
“You alright down here?”
“You sure?”
“Absolutely.”
Reluctant as ever, Jasper cracked one lid then the other. “This isn’t at all like a cave.”
“Not anymore it ain’t,” Nieema said, her voice echoing in a grand vestibule.
It was art. Every inch carved and sculpted to perfection. Murals, foliage, and sweeping statues surrounded them. The finer things didn’t sway Jasper much anymore, growing up with an obsidian spoon in her mouth. But she was obsessed with palace living. It wasn’t the privilege or free shit, but the artwork. From the daintiest jewel to the tallest column, everything was grandiose. Not a detail left untouched.
She knew royalty, and this was it. Within the heart of Keyhold Mountain was a castle.
A palace fit for a queen.
Cool, botanical-scented air circulated in the enormous atrium. It made for an inviting atmosphere.
“This is magnificent,” Jasper said, eying Nieema. “I can only imagine what awaits beyond them giant doors. Why don’t you live here?”
“Too drafty and stuffy if you ask me.”
“What? You’ve gotta be shitting me.”
“Wish I was.”
Nieema set her sights above them and the glowing chandelier, where a camera blinked in the corner. It was enough to open sturdy, stone doors. They were thick and no doubt heavy, but separated as if made of rice paper.
“Yup, a palace,” Jasper said, as the bustling main floor told her everything she needed to know.
“Another man’s trash and all that…”
“Nieema?“
“It’s pretty, but it ain’t a home.”
Jasper had a rebuttal at the ready, but thought better of it. Nieema didn’t look pleased to be here, and in a sense, they had such things in common. Back in Undervell, Jasper hated their mansion. It was akin to a prison rather than a home. She spent two-three cycles there at max. They didn’t have enough family to fill even half of the estate, but it was… stuffy.
This subterranean fortress was carved from the very stone of Keyhold. An iridescence sheen of purple and green winked around every corner. It was an elegant feat, one Jasper wanted to learn more about. There was history and culture here. In ignorance, she thought vampires unrefined, coarse creatures.
Her father’s library needed curating.
“How long did it take to build this?” Jasper asked as the wave of busy bodies parted for them.
People nodded or bowed. Nieema smiled at some and ignored others. Their journey was quick and silent for a while. Jasper was fine with admiring paintings and unfamiliar dark bouquets. The underground castle was unique and Gothic, but lacked dreariness. It was welcoming and warm, with soft crystal lighting. She adored the large, animated stained glass windows and giggled at the show of magic.
“Generations.”
“Amazing.”
After a decent trek, high gloss stone gave way to a crushed velvet runner. Entering a quieter wing of the castle, Jasper was curious about who and what was behind a bronze set of doors.
Nieema didn’t knock or wait for an invitation. She barged right in and paused in an office doubling as a library. Jasper followed close behind and sucked in a breath tainted with lust. She swayed as the potent dose nearly dropped her ass. Clutching Nieema’s shoulder for support, she scoffed at the view of someone crawling from under the desk.