Page 14 of Stalker

I. Never. Revealed. Myself.

Ever. That was rule number one and a fucking mistake I couldn’t afford to make, even with my staff.

Yet I walked into the light and spoke, drawing her drunk eyes up to mine as her big tits swung free and bare to my starving eyes. Fuck, what I would have given to take a bite of them right then and there.

Instead, I played with her, like a peculiar new pet I wanted to fuck with. I tormented her and made her squirm, both physically and figuratively, as she tormented herself with that same jet she used to come the first time, desperate to hide her nudity from me.

Her boss.

Her mean, crass, and judgmental boss.

At least that was what I wanted her to think of me. It was the only way to keep her safe from me.

Until I was ready to play with my new toy.

When I returned to the shadows of the house, I turned back and watched her shatter on yet another orgasm, eating it up like my new favorite drug.

Oh, the ways I’d make her sweet voice scream for me when I finally touched her.

But if my original plan was going to work, I had to see it all through.

So there I was, walking in for breakfast like any other day before Mrs. Straight abandoned me and anxiously awaited if Ms. Peyton Everett had the potential to be a good girl or not.

And what a good fucking girl she was.

As I neared the breakfast bar in the kitchen, she laid a steaming plate down at my preferred spot, wiping her hands on an apron that wrapped around her waist. Images of her bent over the kitchen counter in just that apron while I fucked her from behind filtered through my brain as I took my seat.

“Good Morning, Mr. Bryce.” She greeted me hesitantly as I unrolled my silverware and laid my napkin down on my lap, ignoring her.

I picked up the cup of hot coffee and took a sip, only then gracing her with my attention as I swallowed down the molten lava. “Did you give your instructions to my groundskeeper?” I asked, in place of a greeting.

“Um—” She hesitated and blushed at the quick mention of last night’s events. “He’s not here until seven. I’ll make sure to take care of it immediately after he arrives.”

“Very well,” I hummed, as if that answer was unacceptable.

“Is there anything else—” She started, nodding to the meal laid out on the bar as I started dressing my omelet with salt and pepper.

“No.” I cut her off, “That’s all.”

“Yes, Sir.” She mumbled, dipping her head in a slight bow and backing out of the kitchen as if I’d strike if she turned her back to me.

What a silly little act, feigning innocence and a demure nature when we both knew she was anything but. She just didn’t know how much I knew about her. Yet.

But she would.

Chapter 6 – Peyton

Imanaged to avoid the terrifying man most of the day, interacting briefly as I laid his lunch on the table outside of his office door and knocked but didn’t enter, as instructed. Nonetheless, I was on edge, like he was going to walk around the corner at any minute.

I couldn’t quite describe the feeling I got in his home, but it was like he was always near, but just out of sight. And it made me jumpy.

So jumpy that when Mr. Thomas the groundskeeper for the estate came in through the back patio door to tell me that the hot tub had been drained and cleaned as requested, I screamed and flung the tray full of silverware I had just polished for the second time in two days all over the butler’s pantry.

The whole day was all a fricken wreck, to be honest. I even cried in the bathroom.

Twice.

Mr. Bryce was so cold and abrasive that it made it hard to find any common ground in his presence. And sure, masturbating in his hot tub probably didn’t help my case, but it felt over the top. And didhe have to be so deliciously good-looking at the same time? Last night in the dark, I hadn’t been able to see him clearly through the shadows and steam. At breakfast, however, his good looks were on display for me, and I had to resist not to stare. He was so tall, even more so than I imagined, looking up at him from the jacuzzi on my knees the night before. He wore black-framed glasses at breakfast, and it darkened the entire look he gave off as he stared at me powerfully like some dark and dangerous Clark Kent. I still didn’t know his exact age, but he shaved his jaw before breakfast, and the overall effect, along with his black-framed glasses, exuded dirty college professor vibes, leaving me to wonder more than a few times if he had ever spanked a bad girl.

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