Page 9 of Stalked By the Navy Seal

“Good evening, officer. Was I speeding?” I ask, handing him the two things he asked for. “We’ve been driving for so long through too many states that I can’t keep track of the speed limits anymore. My fiancée keeps telling me we should pull into a motel and rest, and I think she’s right.”

He looks at Riley’s slightly covered face and shines his flashlight on the back seat of my car before turning back to me. “Can you step out of the vehicle, please? Wake your fiancée too.”

“Officer, that’s not—”

“Did you serve?” He interrupts, looking at the tattoo on my arm.

“I did. Proud member of SEAL Team 8, seven years.”

“Oh wow.” He hands me back my license and registration. “Thank you for your service, and have a good night.”

“Thank you, officer.”

I resume driving, and Riley lets out the breath I didn’t even realize she was holding in. “Oh, thank god.”

I take her hand in mine and squeeze it gently. “See, we’re fine. Told you I’d take care of you.”

We drive all night, and by 8 a.m. the following day, we finally see a city limit sign that reads:Welcome to Greystone: A place to call home.

While Riley was sleeping, I called my only trusted friend back in Greystone, my buddy and business partner Bruce, and asked him to help me clean up my apartment and make it presentable for Riley.

I’m not a pig, but I’ve been single ever since my fiancée left me at the altar five years ago, so I’m not as concerned as I used to be about keeping the house spotless. I also asked him to bring over some of his wife Sara’s clothes for Riley since she hadn’t grabbed any of them when she ran for her life.

“We’re here,” I say, watching Riley’s eyes widen in surprise as she takes in the house before looking at me.

“You made it sound like we’d be huddled up in some hole instead of living in such a big house.”

“Don’t conclude ‘til we get inside.”

Grabbing her bag and my luggage from the trunk, I lead her past the garden and overgrown lawn—due to my week of absence—to the front door. I let her into the house and close the door behind us.

“Wow.” She gives the living room a once-over. “This place is beautiful. You have a beautiful home, Chase.”

“I’m glad you like it because it’s your home now too.”Hopefully forever.“Come on, let me show you to your room so you can shower and freshen up before breakfast.”

Once I show her the room, I give her the clothes to change into and leave her alone to shower while I make breakfast.

I’m just done making breakfast when Riley enters the kitchen. She looks so fresh-faced, innocent, and hauntingly beautiful. And she’s looking at me with those baby-blue eyes of hers that it takes everything in me not to walk over to her, grab her, and kiss away every pain that asshole and every other asshole has ever caused her.

“Hey, how was your shower?”

“Really good. The hot water helped soothe my sore muscles.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Hope you like pancakes, I made some.”

“I love pancakes, especially blueberry pancakes,” she says, sitting on one of the kitchen bar stools.

I put some pancakes on a plate, drizzle maple syrup over them, and slide it in front of her.

“Hmmm, this is so good.” She lets out a delicious moan after taking the first bite, and I feel like stabbing the pancakes for being the reason for her moans of pleasure instead of me.

“Glad you like it.” I groan, noticing some maple syrup on her cheek. “You have something on your cheek.”

“Where?” She asks, trying to use her tongue to get it.

When she wiggles her tongue around and still doesn’t have it, I move closer and wipe it off with a towel, catching a whiff of the vanilla smell of her skin.

My cock becomes rock-hard, and I try to distance myself from her, but I can’t. It’s like my head knows the right thing to do is walk away, but my cock refuses to oblige.

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