Page 18 of Devoted (Love and Burlesque #2)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

KNIGHT

Hey Google, what kind of treats do raccoons like?

M y fury must have been visible on my face all day. How else am I supposed to feel when the woman I yearn for is going out on a date tonight?

Everyone at my main office seemed to have caught on to my temperament early enough that I wasn’t disturbed for the majority of the workday. Or maybe someone sent a memo, I’m not sure.

The solitude should have helped calm me down about Vivian seeing someone else tonight, but it did the opposite.

Now I’m fuming in my car, parked down the street from her apartment as I wait for the sun to set with a bag of mixed nuts sitting in my lap. I took the bag from the employee lounge after a quick Google search said that they are a great snack for raccoons.

I won’t have a repeat of what happened last time. I’ve only now just recovered from the limp that resulted from my last run-in with the creature. Here’s hoping the little fucker will accept my bribe and leave me to stew in anger on one of his tree branches.

Only a few more minutes pass by, and then the bright oranges and yellows from the sunset are replaced by the midnight-blue sky. Tonight, I’m sporting comfortable clothing. I’ve learned my lesson about wearing my usual attire during this hobby of mine.

Finally out of the car, I walk over to Vivian’s isolated townhome, thankful it’s mostly surrounded by grassy areas and not a lot of other homes.

Peering around, I take note that only a dim light is on in the living room, but I see both lights of Vivian’s private rooms are on.

Her bedroom curtains are closed, and only a single light illuminates the maroon fabric.

However, I can see shadows dancing upstairs in her workroom.

With all that movement… Is her date in the room with her?

A chittering coming from my right distracts me in time to stop my spiraling. It’s the bastard raccoon who made me fall ten feet onto the muddy ground a few weeks ago. Cautiously, I take a step back, but the animal stays put and looks at me with a curious tilt to his head.

“I’ve brought these for you,” I whisper as I open my sweater to retrieve the bag of nuts. “Let me use your tree for a while, and you may have the whole bag. Are we clear?” I ask, mentally reprimanding myself for thinking a fucking raccoon will understand me.

The raccoon lifts his hands in the direction of the bag and kind of claps them together in a pleading motion. At least he’s interested.

Opening the bag, I decide to make a trail of nuts toward another tree at the back of Vivian’s apartment in hopes of getting the animal as far away as possible.

Instantly, the greedy little thing follows the trail leading to the treasure bag of nuts, and I make my run back to the tree I’m now renting from a raccoon.

Finding a sturdy branch, I settle into a somewhat comfortable position that still gives me a good view of Vivian’s workroom while being hidden.

Honey-blonde hair sways as she dances to a song I can’t hear. Her short black robe rides up with every movement of her body, showing me tantalizing glimpses of her thighs as she keeps dancing around. She is breathtaking.

And she’s going on a date with someone else.

My fingers dig into the rough tree bark without my instruction, my frustration making itself known physically. I was so enthralled by her, I didn’t even look to see if anyone was with her. Briskly, I dart my eyes around the room and breathe a sigh of relief when I see her there alone.

Vivian’s dancing pauses when a notification comes through on her phone—one from her fucking date, I assume. She laughs at the screen for a moment and then resumes her dancing. Only this time, her movements turn slower and more sensual.

Within full view of the window, she starts to untie the robe, and my eyes are glued to the motion. There is a voice in my head that screams at me to look away, but my body is frozen in place.

I might be the one sinning, but the way she moves her body and bites her lip as the robe slowly slips down her body is nothing short of lustful. In an instant, my cock is harder than the tree branch I’m sitting on.

Her chest is encased in a black strappy bra, gorgeous tits full and nearly spilling out of the cups.

They’re more than a handful, and I’d rather be gripping them for dear life than this wretched tree.

The movement of her hips calls to me like a siren’s song, and my eyes wander lower on their own.

A matching set of strappy panties just barely covers her pussy and rides high on her hips and belly, like an arrow pointing to my most desired destination.

I’ve done all I can to forget what her cunt felt like squeezed around my fingers: throbbing, needy, and soft. This display of hers is leaving me at my wits’ end, and the thought of falling to the ground again seems like it would be less painful than to keep watching her get ready for someone else.

I need to look away.