Dr. Aster by Raylin Marks

Author:Raylin Marks [Marks, Raylin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Raylin Marks
Published: 2024-03-07T00:00:00+00:00

John: How the fuck did you manage this shit?

Jake: I’m a magician when it comes to getting even.

John: I didn’t do anything to fuck with you, though!

Jake: Not directly, but you didn’t do shit my way, either. So now, I’m fucked by having to shack up with all these assholes in Aspen. And if I’ve got to be fucked, so do you.

John: You’re a son of a bitch

Jake: I know.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Mickie

As I pulled up to the fucking mansion, I had no idea what was more out of place, my trusty old Honda or me. Good God, who was this guy, Hugh Heffner? The driveway was big enough to park a helicopter on if needed, but from the looks of the sleekness of this place, John didn’t go for that sort of luxury. I imagined him being more like the rappers with all different types of ridiculously expensive sports cars of every color parked in their twelve-car garages.

I stepped out of my car onto the perfect white concrete, and since all his luxury cars were probably in said garage, I had no idea where to park in front of the dark gray home. However, if I kept going, I’d head down the other side of the driveway and exit the place, so stopping anywhere and putting the car into park was my only option.

“He can repark this later if it’s that big of a deal. I’m not on his perfectly mowed grass, so there’s a plus,” I said to myself, turning the car off and pulling the key out of the ignition.

I stepped out of the car, and before I could take another look at the impressive home and intimidate myself further, I was pulled into John’s arms, smelling his aftershave and feeling his hair was still damp from a shower.

“You’re all freshened up. I thought we were skinny dipping?” I asked him with a laugh.

“We are. I just got in a late workout. I need my biceps pumped for when the clothes come off under the party lights,” he teased. “Come on, I’ll give you a tour of the place.”

“Do you need the car parked somewhere?” I asked.

“I’ll pull it into the garage if you’re worried about it?”

I glanced back at my oxidized paint job and laughed, “Well, it might force a neighbor to call the cops, thinking you’re getting robbed.”

“My nosy neighbors can’t see shit because of all the ivy and trees.”

“Well, don’t you have it all?” I smiled, tucking into his side as we entered a door behind a landscaped hedge bush.

“I do now,” he said, squeezing his arm around my neck, bringing me close, and kissing my temple before we walked through a large area with white marble floors. “This is the garage.”

“There’s the 4Runner,” I chuckled, “and that’s just the Ferrari.”

“Just the Ferrari?” he laughed.

“Well, I didn’t mean it like that. I just figured you were one of those guys who owns this house, which should be on Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous, and you’d have more than two cars.

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