Page 10 of Wrong Number

I hardly recognized myself.

I felt out of control.

You are out of control, the somewhat sane part of me whispered. But even that voice, that little bit of me that knew I was doing wrong, was getting quieter and quieter. Quickly being taken over by something darker inside of me. Something possessive and unevolved.

I had no idea how the hell my life had been flipped upside down with one look, but it had.

I was doing crazy things like following her to work and breaking into her place with hands that ached to touch her things only because they were hers, because she’d touched them.

Before I knew it, I was inside her bedroom, just a little past the threshold of her door. The scent of her perfume was stronger in here. Sweeter. Like juicy melon and honey. My eyes skated to her bed, and I wanted to get in it more than anything.

But I wouldn’t.

I couldn’t.

I knew what would happen if I did something like that.

Instead, I moved my attention to the vanity dresser on the side of her room. I touched the cool wood, noting, despite how much she worked, it was clean. A small frame sat on top, and I picked it up. It was of her with two other women. One about her age, while the other was older. From everything I had been able to dig up on my kitten, I assumed this was her best friend and her mother. She’d helped raise my girl. In the picture, Vivi looked younger, maybe eighteen, but even then, she had been beautiful. My thumb stroked her face as something inside of me pulled and tugged.

She was still too young for me.

I knew better.

Relationships and love, I wasn’t good at those things.

Yet… Yet I knew.

I knew in my DNA, looking at her smiling face, I wasn’t going to give her up. I was too far gone for her. A slip of a woman I had never spoken to. Despite that, she knew me better than anyone out there.

And I knew her, too.

I set the frame back down, and my attention moved to the tabletop of the vanity.

There were a lot of things.

All organized in one way or another.

Tidy without it being overdone.

Perfumes, lotions, makeup, some jewelry. My hands were greedy to touch things she might have felt. I picked up one thing after another, bringing it up to my nose to smell. There wasn’t a thing I missed. I even brought her deodorant up to my nose. I was unhinged.

When there wasn’t a single thing I hadn’t touched, including a small pair of itty-bitty diamond earrings, the tips of my fingers tapped the top of her dresser. A dresser filled to the brim with her things.

Her clothes.

Her panties.

My nose flared trying to pick up on every note of her scent, trying to decipher through the perfume and lotions to get a hint of what she’d smell like.

Her skin.

Her pussy.

Her arousal.

My mouth watered, and my body felt like it grew ten degrees warmer. The curiosity of what she was hiding in those drawers overwhelmed me. She was so girly when she went out into the world. Feminine and soft.

With her pretty bows and hint of natural makeup, with her long hair brushed out neatly, always bouncing behind her. Do it. Open it, a voice chimed, and I couldn’t stop myself. I pulled the wooden drawer open, and my eyes widened as my hands clenched the front of the drawer.

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