Page 3 of Stalked By the Navy Seal

My anger rises with each second as I dry my hair. I grab the screwdriver from my mini toolbox, disassemble the smoke detector, and take out the camera I had concealed.

Removing the camera’s memory card, I open my laptop and insert the card into the connected card reader. I’m eager to find out who did this so I can teach them a hard lesson that you don’t steal from just anyone.

Opening the memory card directory, I click on view, and the first thing I notice is the long, fiercely red hair on my little thief as she walks into the frame. She drops the food tray on thetable and is about to leave when my briefcase falls to the floor drawing her attention.

She stares at the briefcase for a few seconds, obviously contemplating what to do, and then she bites down on her thumb. She looks around the room and unavoidably at the camera, so I press pause. “Got ya.”

Ready to memorize the face of the woman who stole from me and make her pay, I zoom in on the image, and something unexpected happens. Her eyes capture my full attention and hold it.

I’ve looked into countless pairs of eyes over the years, but there’s something about the deep blue depths of her eyes that makes me unable to look away.

They’re unbelievably blue, large, and innocent, plus they perfectly match the red hair cascading down her shoulders. Suddenly, all the thoughts I had about making her pay for stealing from me go out the window, and I’m left with a desperate, inexplicable longing to protect her, keep her safe, and most importantly, make her mine.

I don’t even notice how hard my cock is until it twitches underneath my towel.

“Jesus, Chase, what the hell is wrong with you?” I mutter to myself, running my fingers through my thick brown hair.

She stole from me, and instead of thinking about catching her and making her pay, I’m sporting a hard-on just from looking into her eyes on a laptop?What the actual fuck?

Closing the computer, I start pacing the room. In all my years of dealing with people, I’ve never had such a visceral reaction to anyone. Right now, I want to find the redhead before she slips away from me forever.

I don’t know why, but the thought of not seeing her again feels like someone is sucking the life out of me.

Moving as quickly as lightning, I throw on a pair of dark blue jeans and a black tee, grab my baseball hat, and head out the door. Just as I reach reception, I catch a glimpse of her unmistakable red hair as she hurries out through the double doors of the motel, so I follow.

Stepping out onto the sidewalk, I watch her cross over to the other side of the street. I follow at a distance, far enough that she won’t suspect she’s being followed. I can’t really see much of what her body looks like underneath her uniform—which looks about twice her size—but I have a feeling I’ll like whatever I see whenever I see it.

My cock jerks again, so I derail my train of thought and force it to focus on where she could be going in such a hurry.

She continues walking briskly, looking behind and around her occasionally, but doesn’t see me or suspect anything. Finally, after what seems like a half hour of walking, her eyes dart around again before she enters the second and only other motel in Misty River.

I had almost stayed here instead of at the Misty River Inn, and boy, I’m glad I didn’t. I probably wouldn’t have met my little thief if I had.

Hiding behind a wall, I keep my eyes trained on the motel, and a few minutes later, I catch a glimpse of her red hair in one of the open windows before she pulls the curtains closed.

With my years of training as a Navy SEAL and five years as a private investigator, I can always tell when someone is running from something. This is why I’m confident that my red-haired thief is running from something and that something must bereallybad to push an innocent-looking soul like her to steal.

My resolve to protect her from whatever she’s running from hardens, and I decide to take on the role of her guardian angel until I figure out what has her so terrified.

Returning to the Misty River Inn, I gather my belongings as quickly as possible and drive back to the Riverside Motel, parking my car in the farthest parking space from her room. I’ve been on many stakeouts before, so I grabbed everything I needed from the grocery store on my way here so I wouldn’t have to leave for any reason.

From here, I can keep an eye on her, follow her wherever she goes, and make sure I’m there if she needs my help, but for now, she can’t know I’m here, so I must be careful to stay hidden.

She doesn’t leave her room for the next two days, and by the evening of day three, I’m beginning to think that maybe she doesn’t plan to when I spot someone coming out of the motel.

She’s wearing a black hoodie, but I instinctively know it’s her. It’s almost as if we have a connection that transcends the physical.

Following her at a safe distance with my car, I watch her walk into the grocery store ten minutes from the motel, so I park my car and wait. While waiting, I notice a man standing on the curb in front of the store.

He’s wearing a dark coat and dragging on a cigarette. From where I’m parked, he looks lean and unkempt, so I assume he’s just a homeless guy looking to beg for change.

Thirteen minutes have passed when my red-haired thief emerges from the store holding a small bag. Just like watching a horror movie unfold, the lean man throws his cigarette on the ground, grabs her, and pins her against the wall.

My instincts kick in, and without thinking, I’m out of the car and bounding toward them. Seeing the fear on her face as I approach tears through me like a shooting rocket, and by god, I’m going to kill this man, whoever he may be.

“Unhand her,” I growl when I reach them.

The lean man turns to me. “Move along, swine; this isn’t any of your business.”

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