Free Dark Application: ONE (The Dark Application Series Book 1) by Brian Krogstad, Lindsey Waterman

long, chiming laugh. She didn’t say
anything, just squeezed his hand and giggled in delight, and what he imagined
to be, disbelief.
    “Are
you ready for round two?” she asked.
    They
walked, more urgently this time, back to Luke’s house, where they made love for
an hour.
    When
they came out of the room, Chris was making breakfast and the sky had clouded
over again, shutting off the sun.

Tiffany
    L uke
stood in the lobby of the financial aid office on campus, staring at the flyer
on the cork board. It looked like her, he supposed, or mostly like her.
The long black hair was the same, as were the thick eyelashes and
eyebrows.
    He
remembered driving her home, her knees pulled up to her chest, her neck
stretched to the side so her head didn’t roll around on the seat of Chris’s
car…
    And he
remembered her thick legs, her juicy hips and butt…
    Shaking
his head, he snapped out of his daydream as the next teller called him forward.
    “Can I
help you?” she asked.
    “I
just need to make a student loan payment, please,” he said.
    He
handed her his school ID card and she looked him up on her computer monitor.
“Alright Mr. Jeffers, it says here that you are on a deferred payment plan and
that your current minimum payment is zero dollars.”
    “I
know, but I have some extra cash right now and I want to go ahead and pay some
of that off. I can do that, right?”
    “Of
course,” she said.
    “So
how much do I owe?”
    “You
have one loan from last semester, and one loan from the summer session,
totaling two thousand, five hundred and thirty-six
dollars.”
    Luke
reached into his wallet and started counting out hundred dollar bills. He
placed a wad of money on the counter, and the teller looked at him with her
dark brown eyes. She seemed a bit concerned about him, which he didn’t
blame her for; he was breathing heavily and sweating profusely, plus his
stomach was twisted into knots of anxiety, which more than likely showed on his
face. She took the bills from the counter and began to check them for
legitimacy, marking them with a counterfeit marker and writing him a receipt
for the total payment. She entered the information and then put the cash
into an envelope. He signed some paperwork and then the envelope was
dropped into a safe deposit box.
    By the
time the transaction was over, the lady was all smiles, and with bright eyes
she thanked and congratulated him for paying his loans.
    He
left and headed to his truck, feeling more troubled than anything.
    He
couldn’t forget those eyebrows, high and arched, or that smile, with the teeth
white and the lips pulled back in an innocent smirk. He thought back hard
to that night. He remembered her voice, thanking him for taking her home.
He remembered her ass in the dress she was wearing when she went up and
opened the front door. And then she had gone inside. Was that really her
house? Was she so drunk that she’d had him drop her off somewhere else?
    No,
that’s not possible , he thought. Jade Circle, he remembered how to
get there and everything. On a whim, he jumped in his truck and headed to
the freeway. He was going to swing by the neighborhood and get it right in his
head.
    He
pulled into the neighborhood, creeping along very slowly, and then pulled into
Jade Circle on the left. The road veered to the right, the houses lining
the street all had mailboxes clearly marking each address. He crept by,
observing each house and yard, studying the cars and the doors, looking for the
one. Then he recognized it. 331 Jade Circle.
    This
was definitely the place he had dropped Tiffany off that night. It was a
very architecturally decorative house, like a miniature Victorian-style house,
complete with a wrap-around porch and columns holding up a master deck above
the front door. The yard was filled with rose bushes and climbing vines, and the fence was covered with jasmine. He
slowed way down to a crawl, peering closely at the place, remembering that
night in perfect