Page 23 of Deacon

Checkmate, Squeak baby.

“Take me home, Deacon,” Squeak says in a low tone with her eyes shut.

“No can do, baby. Let’s get to know each other, though.”

“What can we possibly need to know about one another?” Squeak’s tone is clipped, and she doesn’t give me the presence of her pretty brown eyes, despite me facing her.

“Everything. Do you have any siblings?”

Propping my hand on my chin, I continue looking at Squeak, and my heart skips a beat when her eyes slowly open.

“I’m an only child. How many demon spawns did your parents have?” she asks sassily.

“Just me, but I have a sister. Her name is Miracle, and luckily for your sanity… she not only lives out of town, but she is a minister,” I say, smirking.

“Two deacons and a minister, yet you choose to take the path of less resistance by avoiding the family business. Hm. I’m sure your family is pleased,” she says sarcastically.

Warmth expands my chest, allowing me to get comfortable while forging this getting-to-know-you session between Squeak and me.

I wonder if I can convince you to stay with me even after the threat has been removed, Squeak.

“What do you like to do for fun? I personally enjoy taking a solo ride around the city. It allows me to clear my head and recenter myself,” I say, ignoring her statement because I don’t have anything to add or dispute.

Pretty ass, Squeak. I wonder how she feels about a three-stone design.

Squeak will soon learn that no matter how much she resists me, it only serves as gasoline for my pursuit. I believe in God. I just don’t subscribe to the narrative that causes me to live a life He would be pleased with. Despite that information, Squeak will never find a more suitable man than me to cherish her heart and love her unconditionally. Staring at Squeak, I take in her blemish-free mocha skin, making way for her oval-shaped face, her temptingly curved mouth, begging for me to kiss her to see how well our lips connect. Her nose is straight, perfectly aligned, and charming, and it causes tingles in my hands from the urge to tweak it at least once.

Tweak her nose… Nigga, what the fuck is wrong with you?

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Squeak asks, blinking like my strong eye contact is entrancing her.

“It’s rare that God allows me to behold one of His treasures this up close and personal.”

What in the sappy nigga hell are you saying?

My heart speedsup and slows down whenever I stare into Deacon’s eyes. His gaze mesmerizes me from the bright and glossy sheen reflecting in his orbs. The wistful smile Deacon is giving me doesn’t fit the hard and rough edges representative of the man he is. Yet, I find it oddly comforting, and it makes me appreciate being the woman on the receiving end of Deacon’s present interest. Not to mention the purring coming from my pussy at our close proximity, which is ultimately why I made the pillow fort. After throwing a tantrum, I can’t let Deacon know that my juices are running like a faucet. I just pray that the evidence of my arousal doesn’t penetrate his nostrils or begin to alter the masculine and woodsy scent in this room. Unlike mostmen, Deacon doesn’t have a California king, which piques my curiosity.

“Why don’t you own a king-size bed? I would think a man like you would want room,” I ask.

“I’m reserving the purchase for you and our future children.”

Staring wordlessly, I assess Deacon for a few seconds to see if he will retract or refute his statement because he’s got to be joking right now. When Deacon matches my eye contact, my brows furrow when a slight smile forms on his lips.

“What?”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Why not? Before now, I’ve either fucked randoms in the back of my ride, at the clubhouse, or a motel. It's why your pillow barrier is a waste of time. That spot has always been reserved for you.”

When this nigga falls asleep, I’m going to search him for the not made in America stamp he has to have on his body somewhere.

“You might as well unfurrow your brows because, like it or not, you solidified your position the minute you climbed under my sheets. Do you want a spring or fall ceremony?”

Nigga, what? Okay, God, does Hell have a foreign country code? Deacon can’t be one of the good things You smiled upon after creating him. Was it an off day for You when Deacon was thought of? I understand if it was because when I’m off, I’m liable to do a lot of strange things myself. I’m just trying to extend You the same grace You freely give me because Deacon isn’t normal.

“What’s on your mind, Squeak? Your eyes have flashed with so many emotions and thoughts. I’m finding it difficult to read you.”

How can I tell this man that I’m debating on calling the people capable of placing his crazy ass in a straitjacket?

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