Page 38 of Stalker

I picked up the sexy shoes he bought me, and returned silently overnight, and then walked over in front of the phone. My image was up on the screen and I leaned over, pretending to check my red lipstick. I adjusted my tits in the cups of the v cut top until they were nearly spilling over and then winked and stood up, so he got the full image. I gracefully stepped into his shoes and then turned, checkingout the way they made my ass look lifted and plumper. Which was saying something, because as a big girl in a very giving pencil skirt, I was already looking snatched.

“Puppet.” He growled deeply and then sighed. “You’re an evil, naughty little vixen.”

I smirked and turned so my ass was to him and shimmied as I looked over my shoulder. “Maybe you should spank me for it.” I giggled at my attempt to be the vixen he thought I was and picked my phone up. “I have to go. And you’re not allowed to interrupt me for the rest of the day.”

“Hmm,” He hummed, “Challenge accepted.”

Oh shit.

Mr. Bryce ignored me when I returned to the main house, simply staring at his phone and walking ahead of me to the garage. Did I expect him to at least admire my fancy outfit? Maybe. Was it better if he didn’t? Absolutely.

Dane’s dirty words fucked with my head, and I forced myself to ignore all of them as we got to the garage. I had seen none of Mr. Bryce’s cars before, but the obscene number of flashy, super modified sports cars lining the large space took me back.

Mr. Bryce was into going fast. Noted.

My heels clicked mockingly across the shiny epoxy floor as I admired them. I saw one across the space that caught my eye with its rainbow iridescent paint job and shook my head at the obscene price it must have cost.

“Pick one.” His voice interrupted me and I was so caught up on the warmth of it for the millionth time that I missed what he said at first.

And then it clicked. “Pic—pick one?”

He nodded and fanned one arm out across the dozens of cars, “Which one should we take today?”

“I don’t know the first thing about cars.” My head shook after I stammered. “I drive a Corolla.”

He smirked, and I stared at the slight movement on his face, realizing it was the first time I’d seen him smile in any way. “I didn’t ask for your professional opinion on the fresh air intake on them.” He put his hand in his pants pocket and the relaxed motion made my body go warm with appraisal. “I asked which one you wanted to ride in.”

While I chewed on my bottom lip, attempting to redirect blood flow from my kitty to my brain, I concentrated on his question. I glanced over the array of options and found the one in the corner that had caught my eye first. “That one.” I nodded with my chin, “The color changing one.”

He eyed the fancy car and then turned back to me, “The Ferrari SF90.” He mused and then held his hand out for me to walk in front of him toward it. “The second most expensive car in this garage.”

I tripped, skidding to a stop and turning so fast that he nearly ran into me, stopping only an inch away.

Fuck, he was massive and smelled so good up close.

“I change my mind.” I swallowed. “I’ll drive my car and followyou.”

“Why?” He raised one eyebrow at me but didn’t back up, so I stepped back to create space between us. I was far too deep in my newfound slut journey to be trusted so close to him. For fuck’s sake, the man had already watched me orgasm in his hot tub, and then found me holding my wet panties in his closet.

And apparently jacked off after that.

Did I believe Dane’s tale? No. However, a big part of my slutty brain liked the idea that someone like me would attract the stone-cold billionaire. And I was already getting too many fictional fantasies to come true to trust myself from doing something naughty in front of my boss.

Like sinking to my knees at his feet and begging him to let me suck his cock.

Down girl.

“I’ll ruin it somehow.” Shaking my head with wide eyes like it was obvious. “I’ll spill something or scuff something.”

He didn’t reply but stepped forward, putting his hand on my elbow and herded me back towards the car. “Keep your panties on and I think you’ll be okay.” He said, and my heart sank to my stomach in shock.

No, he did not just talk about my panties. Bastard.

He reached around me and opened the low door for me, crowding me in against the opening. “Get in the car, Ms. Everett. I’m a busy man.”

“Yes, Sir.” I whispered, sinking down into the low car, trying desperately to keep my skirt from splitting as I took my seat. Thank god I chose the long skirt instead of a short one.

He closed the door and walked around the rear of the car as I buckled my seatbelt, completely shook that I was sitting in such a flashy car on a seat that felt like butter against my skin.

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