MILF Neighborhood: Part Three (The Alpha Society Book 3) by Nick Storming

Author:Nick Storming [Storming, Nick]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Fractured Press
Published: 2020-11-30T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 5

A sound from behind drew my attention and I turned to see a janitor stepping out of the evidence room. The old man had a wispy beard and a stooped posture but something about him didn’t seem right and I ignored Abby as she pulled open the door to the records room and greeted Becca, the other woman’s familiar voice registering dimly.

“Excuse me,” I said to the janitor, trying to get his attention. The man didn’t appear to hear me though as he turned and began hurrying towards the stairs. I was about to give up when I passed the evidence room and caught a good whiff of their scent. “Ma’am?”

The person froze at my word and turned slowly. Her disguise was flawless, even knowing it was a woman from her scent, I couldn’t discern what she looked like under the beard and wrinkles.

“Excuse me?” She asked in a raspy baritone, the voice giving nothing away, “I believe you’re mistake.”

“No,” I said, holding up a finger to Abby as I approached the woman in disguise, “you’re a woman… I’m certain of it. Who are you and what are you doing here?”

“You’re one of them, aren’t you?” The man’s voice dropped, and I almost did a double take when it became husky seductive, “Are you Dean? Or Blake?”

“Neither,” I said with a shake of my head, “tell me who you are woman,” I let a touch of anger enter my and the primal undertones shook the woman. I saw her eyes widen and pupils dilate, and she spoke without hesitation.

“Heather DeWitt, FBI,” her lips curled and I read the frustration at herself in her scent at giving so much away, “Who the fuck are you?”

“A friend,” I said, “If you’re investigating the lab and the Alphas that is.”

“Tom?” Mrs. Greene called, “If everything alright?”

“One moment Abby,” I said, holding up a hand to her again.

“We can’t talk here,” Heather hissed in her old man’s voice, close enough that I caught a whiff of cigarette smoke on her breath. She spoke quiet enough the words wouldn’t carry to Abby or Becca, “Meet me outside the Kwikee-Mart on Lincoln Ave tonight at six,” she pushed a piece of paper into my hand, her motions quick and hidden from the women peering down at us curiously. As she did I finally got a clear inhalation of her and my brain went to mush for a heartbeat as she spun and shuffled off with her old man’s limp.

Other than my wife, I’d never sampled a woman as complex and alluring as the disguised FBI agent. Her figure was masked by the costume, and her face hidden behind makeup and a fake beard but I knew, deep in my guts that I wanted her more than any of the women I’d claimed so far, other than my wife and perhaps her mother. I was still standing in the hall when she turned into the stairwell and shot me a last lingering stare.

“Sorry for the delay,”

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