Page 25 of Succumbed

Down, boy. Who knows how tonight is going to go.

My maps app tells me I’ve arrived. I look up at the architectural monstrosity and whistle.

“Holy shit, Lex, you are living large.”

I pull Dec’s Tesla through the open gate (she has a fucking gate, and it better only be open because she knew I was coming) and up to the front door. The place is fucking palatial.

Modern and angular, with more windows than siding, it looks easily three times the size of our place. An attached four-car garage sits perpendicular to the entrance, and I can see a wrought iron gate with an arched canopy covered in green vines off to the side. I crane my neck to look as I slowly roll by, eyeing an expanse of manicured gardens. Is that an infinity pool? And a fucking pool house?!

Grabbing the wine and bag of takeout as I park, I climb from the car to walk up the white marble steps. Before I can knock, the door opens.

Fuck. Me. She stands there in an oversized shirt and leggings, her face scrubbed clean and jaw-length dark red hair–which I’ve only seen straight and parted precisely down the center–mussed.

“Hey Linc.” Her playful smile suggests she knows exactly what she’s doing to me, standing there looking delectable.

“Lex, you’re a goddamn vision.”

She laughs and opens the door wider, stepping back to let me in. Her eyes rove over me and my offerings as I step inside and kick off my shoes.

“You have my heels and clothes in that bag?” she teases, knowing I don’t.

“Oh, shit. Sorry, here.” I hand her the wine and takeout. “I left them in the car, give me a sec.”

I hold up a finger and whirl around to jog down the steps in my socks.

Her laughter follows me, and I drink in the sound. “Linc, your shoes!”

“I’m fine!” I call, opening the trunk and snatching her bag.

As I hustle back up the steps, I bask in her grin. Her eyes are sparkling, her rosy cheeks flush. She looks younger, somehow, without all the makeup and designer clothes.

“Here you go. Sorry, trust me to forget the whole reason I stopped by.”

Something decidedly naughty enters her eyes as she smirks. “Not the whole reason, though, is it? I don’t think my heels need wine or…” she peers into the bag, “Chinese?”

I grin, ignoring the way my cock thickens at her suggestiveness. “Felt like a lo mein kind of night.”

She laughs. “Somehow, that’s exactly what I’d expect from you. And, to be honest, it sounds far better than the crackers and wine I was planning. Come in.”

“To be clear, crackers and wine are not dinner.”

She just smiles over her shoulder as she leads me down the hall to her kitchen, where she places the bag and wine on the marbled island. As she opens a cabinet and pulls out some wine glasses, I look around the place, trying not to stare.

It’s ridiculously big, almost ostentatiously lavish with its crazy high ceilings and appliances I’m pretty sure cost more than Dec’s Tesla. But even with the impressive features, it feels almost empty. She clearly doesn’t spend much time here.

There are no cozy features or photos, only minimalist furniture in neutral colors. For someone so full of fire, her home is surprisingly dull. The kitchen looks toward the back of the house, where the infinity pool is visible amid the gardens through the double sliding doors.

“Is that a pool house?” I squint as I peer through the glass.

“It is. My nephew, Jax, lives out there at the moment.”

I blink at her, confused. “How the hell do you have a nephew old enough to live alone?”

She chuckles as she pours a glass of wine. “My brother, Nate, was in high school when he got Jax’s mom pregnant. Nate and I are only ten months apart.”

“Your poor mom.” I grimace.

“You’re telling me,” she mutters, grinning wryly as she offers me a wine glass.

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