Page 4 of Stalked By the Zookeeper

The heat builds in my groin, a burning pleasure that threatens to consume me. I imagine her moaning my name, her voice laced with desire and need.

It’s too much. I'm close, so fucking close.

"Sabrina," I gasp out, the world narrowing down to the sound of her name on my lips and the stunning pleasure that rockets through me.

As the wave hits, white-hot and shattering, I spill into my hand with a shudder that racks my entire body. For a moment, there's nothing but blinding ecstasy—the kind that obliterates thoughts and shakes the soul. I ride it out until every last tremor has left me drained and gasping for air.

When the haze of post-orgasmic bliss slowly fades, reality seeps back in—a cold reminder of the solitude surrounding me. My heart thuds painfully against my ribcage as I deal with the aftermath of such intense fantasies.

Lying there in silence, the echo of what just happened hammers home how alone I actually feel. The space around me feels emptier than before, each corner filled with shadows cast by yearning.

"Fuck," I whisper into the emptiness.

One day, she'll be my wife, and we’ll have kids running around, a whole damn zoo of our own.

CHAPTER

FOUR

Bradley

I'm scrubbing down the lion's habitat when I hear laughter near the entrance. It slices through the growl of my pressure washer like a knife, and I glance up.

Sabrina.

She's all smiles and sunshine at the ticket booth, her ponytail bouncing as she chats with a visitor. My grip tightens around the hose.

Something inside me prickles.

The guy at her window is laying it on thick, college-boy charm dialed up to ten. He leans on the counter, trying for suave but only managing smarmy.

The way he looks at her, like she's some kind of conquest—damn, it gets under my skin.

Jealousy claws at my chest, fierce and unexpected.

"Focus, Bradley," I mutter under my breath, forcing myself to look away. I've got no claim over Sabrina, no reason to feel this surge of possessiveness. But the thought of knocking that smirk off Pretty Boy's face is a sweet fantasy.

Hours slip by, but the image of that flirt lingers like a bad smell. I keep an eye out, telling myself it's just part of the job, making sure everything's secure.

That's when I see him again—the same kid from this morning, only now he's staggering, booze clearly having the best of him.

He makes a beeline for Sabrina, who's busy counting the day's earnings, unaware.

My heart hammers against my ribcage, instincts screaming. As he reaches out, grabbing her arm, everything in me snaps. No way I'm standing back.

"Hey!" My voice booms across the space as I stride over, muscles coiled and ready. I grab the punk by his collar, yanking him back. "That's enough."

Sabrina's eyes are wide, a mix of fear and relief as she takes in the scene. The drunk kid's spewing apologies, but I'm not having it. With a shove that sends a clear message, I send him stumbling away from us, back towards the exit.

"Are you okay?" I ask, my voice softer now, just for her.

She nods, brushing off her shirt where he touched her. "Yeah, thanks to you, Bradley." There's a slight tremor in her voice that tells me she's shaken.

"Bradley, huh?" I can't help the small quirk of my lips. So she knows my name.

"Sorry, I—" She bites her lip, looking up at me. "I've seen you around. I'm Sabrina."

"Nice to officially meet you, Sabrina." It's weird, we've worked the same patch of earth for months without crossing paths until now. But here we are, names exchanged, and the air between us charged with something raw and unspoken.

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