Page 10 of Unmasked

When my pussy stops pulsing, and my breathing returns to normal, I pull my hand out, wiping my soaked fingers on my sweatpants.

I’m disturbed. Seriously deranged. I masturbated to a masked man’s video.

One who may be my stalker.

Or is that wishful thinking?

CHAPTER 10

Stryker

Ifeel euphoric as I read her comment on my post. Despite her palpable fear when she saw me in the stairway earlier, she still watched my video, liking and commenting on it.

Leaning back on my chair, I stare at the mask in my hand.This is your opportunity. You know she has a mask kink.

Despite the high coursing through me, it’s not enough. I crave her like a starving beast craves its next meal.

I need more.

Getting up, I grab my hoodie and pull it over my head. I shove the mask into my pocket before grabbing my phone.

The time has arrived, my little prey. Ready or not, here I come.

I followa group of chattering students inside the apartment complex. My hoodie is pulled over my head, but I’m not wearing my mask since it will draw too much attention to me.

Instead of taking the elevator, I push through the stairwell.

When I reach her floor, I crack open the door and peer into the hallway. Mallory exits her apartment, her phone pressed to her ear. She slides her wallet inside her backpack, zipping it shut.

“That sounds great, Mandy. I have my textbook and laptop. We can grab a coffee, stop by the Learning Center, and study together.”

She straightens, sliding her backpack over her shoulder. Something falls out, tumbling onto the floor. She’s so busy talking on the phone that she doesn’t notice.

Once the elevator doors close, I head to the item, squatting down and picking up her ID, which unlocks her apartment door. Victory thrums through my chest.A way inside.

Without a second thought, I turn to her door and swipe, entering her apartment. I’ll have to erase the swipe from the housing system, but that’s easy.

Shoving her ID inside the pocket of my jeans, I inhale the coffee-scented candle. A light trail of smoke wafts in the air, suggesting she recently blew it out. It mixes with her vanilla scent, creating a decadent aroma.

I wander around her living room and kitchen, which are similar to Megan’s except for a different shade of carpet and paint on the walls. I poke through the drawers, cabinets, and refrigerator, learning what my woman likes.

Returning to the living room, I head down the hallway. The bathroom is on the left, so I go inside. I open the linen closet and investigate the contents before moving to the medicine cabinet above the sink.

Bingo.

Pulling my phone from my back pocket, I take a picture of her birth control pills and other items inside.

Squatting down, I open the cabinet beneath the sink. Theleft side contains a hairdryer, curling iron, and a hair straightener, while the center cabinet contains hair, bath, and body products. I grab her lotion, open it, and inhale the vanilla scent.

The cabinet closest to the toilet contains the essentials—a first aid kit, peroxide, toilet paper, and feminine products. I snap a picture, fully intending to ensure she’s stocked up.

Standing, I turn to her shower. A damp towel hangs over the door. I move to it, bunching the fabric in my hands as I bury it against my nose. My dick hardens, even as a flicker of jealousy shoots through me from the material gliding over her naked body.

Damn, I’m feral over this woman.

Exiting the bathroom, I head to her bedroom. She has her laptop and phone, which makes it harder to install stalkerware. It's not impossible, but she may be suspicious if I send her a phishing email.

I wander around her room, poking through her drawers and nightstand before checking out the clothing in her closet. I’m aware she comes from money, but the designer clothing and shoes cement it.

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