Page 16 of Stalked By the Linebacker

Sure, now it was her brother, but this felt different.

If you had told me this is where I’d find myself this morning before my shift last night, I would have thought you were crazy. Now I wondered if I was the one who should be locked into a looney bin.

How the hell had this happened?

But I guess I wasn’t completely overthinking it because while deep in my thoughts as I heard Hector’s words bounce around, I’d taken my uniform off and changed into his clothes. The shorts were too big. I tried to tie them and then fold them over, but it wasn’t going to work.

Thankfully, his shirt was big and long enough it passed my knees about an inch, so I decided to just wear that, not realizing it had his last name on my back.

CHAPTER 4

HECTOR

I paced backand forth with one thing bombarding me, playing on a loop in my head.

She was a virgin.

She’d been kissed one other time, and she’d told me it hadn’t been good.

My girl was as innocent as innocent could be.

This thing inside me that grew with every breath I took was dark and sinister. Fucking obsessed with claiming and possessing her in a way that would mark her and make her mine.Only mine.

I’d known she was innocent.

I could have guessed she was a virgin with the way she blushed and shied away from me these last couple of weeks. But I hadn’t dared think about justhowinnocent she was.One awkward kiss is the extent of her experience!Fuck me, what was wrong with the guys at her school? She was so fucking gorgeous, inside and out.

But their loss was my gain.Big time.

If I had thought I was capable of keeping my distance, building up our friendship and keeping my hands to myself before, I was completely screwed now.

After one kiss, the hottest most erotic thing I had experienced to date, there was no way I’d be strong enough not to claim her. Watching her from a distance, invading her space without her knowing it had taken a little bit off the edge. But now? Now there was no turning back.

My eyes were glued to the hardwood floor in front of my bedroom door. Dylan and the guys had already left, and I knew we were alone in my place. My hands clenched at my sides, fisted together. I dug my nails into the inside of my palm, hoping the bit of pain would chill me the fuck out and help me breathe.

Just as I was reining it in, my door squeaked like it usually did. Suddenly, her pretty, tiny feet appeared. My eyes dragged their way up slowly. Soaking in and taking in every inch and detail of her.

She is barefoot.

Her toes were painted a pretty, soft pink. I had no idea why that surprised me. Part of me had expected them to be without polish. Yeah, I’d thought about every inch of Libby, and that included if she did or didn’t paint her toes.

Then it was her legs. Long and willowy yet toned. Fair skin on display until just below her kneecaps, where my shirt brushed against her skin. I breathed in, and my fists tightened at my sides. What the fuck had I been thinking giving her my shirt? The thing was huge on her, swallowing her up, covering her up exactly like I wanted to.Mine.

“My shirt looks good on you,” I rumbled. Her soft laugh tickled my ears as I kept taking her in. Her breasts rested high, and even from where I stood, I could make out the way her nipples tightened beneath the cotton fabric.

“Thanks. I, umm, I put your shorts back. They were too big, but, uh, I think this is long enough.” My brain tried to short-circuit, slowly processing what she had said. I watched Libby pull the hem of my shirt, and I nodded.

I didn’t know what to say. Me. The guy who always had some kind of joke to crack or smartass quip or fact was fucking speechless. Instead, I turned and reached for the two glasses of ice water I’d poured for us.

“I have water,” I shared like a fucking idiot.

“Thanks.” She smiled shyly, but neither of us moved.

I couldn’t stop looking at her. She was fucking perfection where she stood. She had taken her hair out of the usual bun she wore. Her long stands had a slight wave and hit down her back, making it a lot longer than I realized it was. All I wanted to do was stroke it between my fingers to see if it was a soft as it hinted to be.

“Well, umm…” I cleared my throat. The reality of the situation hit me like a fucking ton of bricks.

Libby was in my place. We were home alone, and she was wearing my shirt. My name stamped on her back, marking her as mine to anyone who laid eyes on her. She turned around and stepped into my bedroom. I waited for a moment, trying to calm myself down and not chase after her.

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