Keep Him Fed
img img Keep Him Fed img Chapter 1 1
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Chapter 6 6 img
Chapter 7 7 img
Chapter 8 8 img
Chapter 9 9 img
Chapter 10 10 img
Chapter 11 11 img
Chapter 12 12 img
Chapter 13 13 img
Chapter 14 14 img
Chapter 15 15 img
Chapter 16 16 img
Chapter 17 17 img
Chapter 18 18 img
Chapter 19 19 img
Chapter 20 20 img
Chapter 21 21 img
Chapter 22 22 img
Chapter 23 23 img
Chapter 24 24 img
Chapter 25 25 img
Chapter 26 26 img
Chapter 27 27 img
Chapter 28 28 img
Chapter 29 29 img
Chapter 30 30 img
Chapter 31 31 img
Chapter 32 32 img
Chapter 33 33 img
Chapter 34 34 img
Chapter 35 35 img
Chapter 36 36 img
Chapter 37 37 img
Chapter 38 38 img
Chapter 39 39 img
Chapter 40 40 img
Chapter 41 41 img
Chapter 42 42 img
Chapter 43 43 img
Chapter 44 44 img
Chapter 45 45 img
Chapter 46 46 img
Chapter 47 47 img
Chapter 48 48 img
Chapter 49 49 img
Chapter 50 50 img
Chapter 51 51 img
Chapter 52 52 img
Chapter 53 53 img
Chapter 54 54 img
Chapter 55 55 img
Chapter 56 56 img
Chapter 57 57 img
Chapter 58 58 img
Chapter 59 59 img
Chapter 60 60 img
Chapter 61 61 img
Chapter 62 62 img
Chapter 63 63 img
Chapter 64 64 img
Chapter 65 65 img
Chapter 66 66 img
Chapter 67 67 img
Chapter 68 68 img
Chapter 69 69 img
Chapter 70 70 img
Chapter 71 71 img
Chapter 72 72 img
Chapter 73 73 img
Chapter 74 74 img
Chapter 75 75 img
Chapter 76 76 img
Chapter 77 77 img
Chapter 78 78 img
Chapter 79 79 img
Chapter 80 80 img
Chapter 81 81 img
Chapter 82 82 img
Chapter 83 83 img
Chapter 84 84 img
Chapter 85 85 img
Chapter 86 86 img
Chapter 87 87 img
Chapter 88 88 img
Chapter 89 89 img
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Keep Him Fed

Billie oma
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Chapter 1 1

WREN

My view was of a beautiful estate for the elites, where silence was invaluable. The Buildings in the neighborhood have the same structure and design.

I marveled within me, my mouth opened but no words came out.

"So this is the house you will housekeep," My employer, Mrs. Vaughn said.

She was a poised and elegant brunette in her late twenties maybe, and could pass for a runaway model, but she's a ballet dancer.

On the glass table in the living room, I sighted a magazine and my breathing slowed, anxiety kicked in.

I glanced around probably to see who had dropped the paper here.

For the past three months since I left Australia, I have been conscious of the net, the media wasn't my friend, thinking about it scares me.

The magazine reminds me of home, what I'd lost. My grandmother would probably be crying in her grave for my poor management of her matchmaking company.

"For the next few weeks," she finished.

"It's fine by me," I replied with a wide smile.

It was what I needed, silence and hideout.

She frowned, proceeding to show me the kitchen, the bar room, and upstairs but not without putting a limit to my entry in some rooms.

Eve Vaughn directed me to the balcony, there was a small garden and a swimming pool. Perfect! I exclaimed in my head, I didn't forget to bring a bikini.

A brown cat ran to rub its head on Eve's leg, and she bent down to carry it, rubbing its head tenderly.

I raised my eyebrows at both gestures.

"You are to bathe fluffy and cater to her needs."

So much for a housekeeping job, I'd gone to a restaurant to look for a job, but there was no space, luckily my supposed boss was friends with Eve Vaughn and here I am.

The compound was occupied by two buildings in it, demarcated by a short hedge and there was a courtyard between them.

I saw a Rolls Royce parked in the garage in the other building, wondering about the kind of neighbor that lives there. Probably a rich old fellow, I glanced at Eve, but a shadow caught my attention.

It was a man in all his masculine glory, bashing only God knows what on the phone. I felt pity for the other person. Then he turned and our eyes met, damn he's beautiful, butterflies in my belly, his hard jaw matching his face.

"Wren!"

I turned to the oblivious Eve, and this time gave her an uncomfortable smile.

"I want everywhere to look the same when I come back."

"Of course," I replied.

When I looked back at the house, the man wasn't there. How could I survive seeing him for the next month?

"I trust you are clean," Eve asked, taking my full attention.

"Pardon ma?"

"No criminal record." She looked at me, like I'm some shit.

"I'm clean," I lied.

How do I tell this lady I have been branded by the media as a fraud in Australia, with a ruined matchmaking company because the last client I matched, Paige Williams, had gone missing on my watch.

******************************************

It's been two days since Eve traveled for a choreography event. She is married, though it doesn't look like it, there are no pictures of her husband, nothing.

I'd just finished watering the plants and decided to go for a swim to clear my head, but then my private investigator called, and I picked up without delay.

"Please tell me you've gotten something." My desperation tone was obvious.

"Progress at least," Mark replied, and I released a sigh. "We got a location, and it's around the vicinity you are in."

"Houston?" I'm surprised.

"Yes, and the fact we don't know if our suspect is a male or female is killing."

"Me too."

After a minute of silence, I broke it with the rustling sound of my luggage looking for my bikini, triangle cups with adjustable ties and a v string panty.

"What about the cctv in the restroom?" I remind him.

"Nothing, some cameras weren't working that day."

This wasn't a coincidence, shit I don't believe in that. Mark had traced our suspect seen with Paige to America, but it's tighter than we thought.

I placed my phone against my ear while holding it with my shoulder, then carried some baked cookies and apple juice to the swimming pool.

I lied on the sun lounger, facing the pool, my knees high up.

Lovelink was a small company I inherited from my grandmother and I'd made a promise to fulfill her dream in making it a big business, but unfortunately, fate wasn't on my good side.

Paige Williams hasn't been found for a month now, we'd interrogated the man I matched her with and he was cleared, said she'd gone to the restroom and didn't come out.

Many users in Lovelink had logged out, deleted their account in fear of the unknown. I'd gone bankrupt, and it was my responsibility to find out what happened.

To clear my grandmother's name.

"Wren? Are you still alive?"

"Yes," I said, shaking off my thought, the neighbor I saw this morning came out, holding a bottle of drink and two glasses. He has a guest?

Fluffy meow was heard from the garden separating the houses. Surprised it ran there, a few hours with her and she needed another bath for the fifth time.

I stood up from the chair in search of fluffy, conscious of the man close by.

"Here."

The man's voice was deep and husky, I almost melted on my pants. I blinked at him, he had on a T-Shirt and casual jeans, no sign of fluffy.

"Hi, I think the cat went into your house." I couldn't recognize my voice anymore. His eyes are coffee colored, matching his dark slick hair.

He gave a quick rundown of my bikini, and I felt naked, my nipples were forcing its way out.

"Come in, we'd better look for her." The man frowned, not a fan I think?

"If you don't mind."

"No," he answered.

Coffee eyes man led me into his house, the interior was painted ash, different from Eve's. Luckily I saw fluffy sitting on the couch, and I carried her, petting her body.

"No food for you tonight," I teased at fluffy.

"Surely you won't do that."

"She deserves it, now I have no desire for a swim anymore," I sounded like a baby right now. The man stared at me, with an unreadable look.

"Sorry I didn't introduce myself," I dropped fluffy back on the couch, and extended my hand to him. "I'm Wren Hastings, housekeeping for Eve."

Are those three last words important? He must know Eve, at least they are neighbors.

"Right," the man said and sat on the couch, but Fluffy wasn't there. The man's commanding eye's were distracting my senses. I'm supposed to search for fluffy again but it felt like I was caught in a spell.

"Would you care for a drink?"

"Yes actually, you seemed like you needed someone to talk to."

I was blabbering.

Correction, he looked like he needed a casual partner. Jesus what is wrong with me? Coffee eyes poured some little scotch on two glasses and passed one to me, our fingers touched for the first time and I couldn't ignore the spark like an electric.

"Thank you," I almost blush.

He kept shut, only nodding instead as if in deep thought. I didn't know what to do or say.

I watched him as he drank from his glass in one go, he kept the glass on the table, then looked at me.

His next six syllables came unexpectedly.

"I'd like to bang you Wren."

            
            

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