Page 1 of Stalked By the X-Ray Tech

CHAPTER

ONE

Jacob

I'm working my shift as an X-ray tech at St. Mary's, when she walks in.

I don’t have a clue who she is, but she’s the most gorgeous girl I've ever laid eyes on. I can't tear my gaze off her as she saunters in cradling her wrist, the sexiest thing I've ever fucking seen.

Her eyes meet mine, and she winces as she adjusts her wrist.

I grab her chart, eager to learn her name.

“Hello, Bella. I’m Jacob. Let’s check that wrist out, shall we?”

I position her wrist, careful not to let my hands linger too long, but fuck me, the heat between us is enough to set the damn X-ray film on fire. She smiles up at me, her doe-like eyes begging me to do things to her that would make a sailor blush. I gulp, trying to focus on the task at hand. No pun fucking intended.

She’s got a tiny sprain, nothing too serious, but I don’t tell her that. It’s not my place. I’m just supposed to make my notes on the scans and let the doctor handle explaining everything to her.

“How’d you do this?” I ask her though, desperate to hear her sweet little voice again.

She shrugs. “I’m not really sure. I was playing a match like usual, and I somehow twisted it wrong or something.”

I start to ask her what kind of match, but then I take in her little white tennis skirt.

She’s a tennis player.

“Yeah, I can see how that could do it, but I think you’ll be okay.” I smile at her and try to hide the way my cock is growing in my pants at the sight of her in that little tennis skirt.

She beams back at me. “Great! Thank you, Jacob.”

I damn near swoon like a high school girl at the way this pretty little thing says my name.

Somehow I manage to hold it together until she leaves, but as soon as she's out of sight, I dive into her chart like a fucking stalker.

Yeah, I said it. I'm that guy. I need to know everything about this goddess. Her address, her likes, her dislikes, her freaking shoe size for fuck' s sake.

I'm obsessed, but could anyone blame me? Something about Bella…it’s like she’s mine. I just know it.

I practically jackrabbit my way to my car, my dick a third wheel in my scrubs. I stake out her place, my baby-blue beemer blending in with the crowd. All I can think about is those long, toned legs of hers, and how they'd feel wrapped around my waist as I pound her into oblivion.

Finally, she appears.

Bella, my Bella, in booty shorts and a tank top so thin, I can see her nips begging for my attention. My cock twitches, and I can't stop myself. I whip it out, right there in the driver’s seat, staring up at her window like some horny peeping Tom. My hand moves on autopilot, stroking fast and hard as she flits across her room, oblivious to the fact that she's the star of my filthy midnight show.

Every stroke brings me closer to madness. Sweat beads on my forehead, the thrill of getting caught adding a forbidden edge to my pleasure.

But I don’t care. All I can think about is Bella and how perfect she looked under the X-ray beams, vulnerable yet invincible.

And when I come, the sticky ropes jetting out of my like a monsoon, I nearly choke on the intensity of it.

I don’t even feel any shame as I pull some napkins out of my glove compartment and clean myself up.

Bella is mine.

Nights turn into routine. Work days drag because they're not Bella days.

When I'm not at the hospital, I'm outside her place, learning her schedule like a fucking psychopath who's watched too many episodes of "You." But this isn’t a show. This is real life, and I’m far too gone down the rabbit hole.

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