Page 10 of Stalked By the Navy Seal

Unable to stop myself, like a magnet being pulled to another magnet by an undefeated force, my thumb sweeps across her soft skin and rests on her lips, parting them slightly.

Without thinking, my head dips, and I take her lips prisoner. They are soft, much softer than I imagined, and full as they collide with mine. She lets out a soft moan as I drag her lower lip into my mouth, driving my need to taste more of her to a crescendo.

I sink my fingers into the red hair I’d dreamed of touching since I first saw it, and my tongue pushes against her lips. Her mouth parts to let my tongue slip in and taste the sweetness inside.

Kissing my little thief is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. With every moan and whimper, she wipes my memory of every other kiss I’ve ever had. I never want this to end.

Her arms make their way around my neck. Her vanilla scent and supple breasts are pressed against me, almost driving me to the brink of madness.

If I don’t pull away now, I’ll rip off her clothes and take her before I can think any better of it, so that’s what I do, and I do it fast.

Her breasts are rising and falling with each breath, and her lips look pale from the intensity of our kiss.

“Why did you stop?” she asks, disappointed. “Did I do something wrong? My kiss was sloppy, wasn’t it? I knew I should have practiced more.”

Practiced more? I’d wring the neck of any guy who dares come close to her, let alone kiss her.

I narrow my eyes on her. “What do you mean you should’ve practiced more?”

“I mean... um… I… um, I’m not really good at any of this.”

“What are you talking about? Was that your first kiss?”

She nods. “Yes.”

My eyes widen from shock. “But you’re not a virgin, right?”

Her gaze drops to the floor and my heart just about does a backflip. I collect myself and put my fingers under her chin so she can look into my eyes. “Being a virgin is nothing to be ashamed about. In fact, you should be proud of yourself.”

“So, if I didn’t do anything wrong, why did you stop our kiss?”

“Because sweetheart, if I had kissed you for one more second, I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself from ripping your clothes off and taking you hard and raw. Now, let’s eat our pancakes.”

I’ve laid down in bushes filled with mosquitoes and other insects overnight, gone without food for about ten days. Yet, I’m certain that living under the same roof with my little thief without claiming her little virgin pussy and making her mine will be the worst torture of my entire life.

Chapter Five

Riley

Chase’s house has felt more like a home to me in the three weeks since I’ve been here than my stepfather’s house ever was in the twelve years I lived there.

Every morning during my first week at Greystone, I woke up to a fresh pot of chocolate coffee–which I had casually mentioned to him was my favorite–and breakfast in bed.

He didn’t go out very much that first week, but whenever he had to, he always made sure to order some pizza, sandwiches, wraps, and my favorite pasta for lunch. He always came home with dinner for us.

He would then ask me how my day was and not just ask but listen as I recounted every boring detail to him. At first, it was hard for me to reconcile the tattooed hunk with muscles so strong he could probably lift a small car and the man who had punched my stepfather until he was lying unconscious on that sidewalk, all bloody, with the man who was always so gentle and kind to me.

It’s been three weeks, and there’s no sign that my stepfather or Deadeye Dante are looking for me. Maybe my monster of a stepfather finally got the merciless death he deserved at Dante’s hands, or I wasn’t that much of a prize to begin with.

Whatever the case, I’m finally starting to regain a sense of control over my life, and I’m feeling the best I’ve felt in years, except for one problem. Chase has been avoiding me.

Yes, he’s been taking care of me and making sure I have everything I need, everything except for the one thing I really need… HIM.

Ever since our kiss, he’s been avoiding me as if I’m a plague. He keeps a distance between us whenever we’re in the same room or on the same couch. I can’t stand it anymore, especially when he’s always walking around here almost shirtless.

He’s currently sitting on one of the sofas in the living room, hunched over his laptop, when I walk out of my bedroom. Sara, Bruce’s wife and the only one close to a friend I have in Greystone, invited me to brunch, so I’m going to the Greystone Café to meet her.

“Hey.” Chase looks up from his laptop at me. “Perfect timing.”

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