Page 40 of Stalker

“Again.” He said plainly, accelerating even more. We were nowhere near the traffic of the city yet, thank god, but we were going far over the speed limit. The whine of the car rattled my nerves like nails on a chalkboard and I shifted into fifth.

Or at least I tried, but it was harder than one would think to shift a car from the passenger seat, even given my extensive experience driving standard cars, and I missed.

Grind ‘em till you find ‘em. At least that’s what my mom always said when she was driving my dad’s truck growing up.

“Jesus Christ.” He groaned and wrapped his hand around mine, maneuvering it into fifth with ease. “Maybe an Uber is better after all.”

“It’s because I’m over here.” I grimaced as the light turned red ahead of us and he started slowing down. He didn’t remove his hand as he shifted down, one gear at a time when I knew he could have doubled us down to a stop.

His hand dwarfed mine on the shifter and I caught myself looking down at it, perplexed by the entire thing.

“So you can handle it?” He asked, as the light turned green, so he sped up. He removed his hand from mine, and I instantly missed the feel of it, but I effortlessly shifted through the gears, with zero grinding. I smiled triumphantly, and he rolled his eyes, making him look almost… normal.

“I can shift your car, but that doesn’t mean I want to drive it.” Now that I had proven my point, I removed my hand.

He scoffed and took over, “Well, you don’t have a choice, because here we are.” Bringing us into the parking lot of a swanky office building, he stopped in the valet spot. He tapped a few buttons on the screen and a list of items and places popped up. “These are what I need from you. Can you handle it?”

I skimmed the list. Lawyer’s offices, a few shops, and a hardware store.

“Easily.”

“Good.” He undid his seat belt. “Be back by six thirty.”

“Yes, Sir.” I said and jumped slightly when my door opened, revealing a valet attendant.

“Wait there.” Mr. Bryce snapped and got out of the car, walking around the hood and straight to my door. The attendant backed up, stammering something as a tense stare down happened from the hulking entrepreneur I called Sir. When Mr. Bryce blocked off the door to the car and held his hand out to help me up, I took a deep breath, preparing myself to touch him. It wasn’t like I could shimmy into the driver’s seat with my obnoxiously tight skirt on. “Peyton.” He said, and I slid my hand into his, reveling in the tightness of his grip, and as gingerly as I could, stood up from the low car.

When I was safely on my feet, I adjusted my skirt and expected him to back up, but his eyes held mine powerfully from far above, forcing me to tip my head back to look up at him. I still couldn’t get over how fucking tall he was.

Just like Dane.

Damn, would he be mad if he knew I was lusting over my boss? Again.

No, because it was his fault I was even thinking the indecent things.

“Don’t break any speed limits.” He said, taking my elbow and leading me around the hood. “And don’t be late getting back, or I’ll take my reservation at Menton without you.” He named the highest rated restaurant in Boston as I got to the driver’s side door and I swallowed quickly, but he wasn’t done with me yet. “I hear the food is orgasmic.” I stared up at him, expecting to see the relaxed mirth he’d shown in the car on the way into the city, but there wasn’t anything light in his dark eyes.

There was only darkness I didn’t recognize. “Six-thirty.” I whispered, “Got it.”

Chapter 15 – Lincoln

“Wine, Sir?” The server leaned over slightly, presenting the wine menu to me. I glanced at it briefly and saw exactly the wine I wanted for Peyton, and then dismissed him.

I didn’t want anyone around her. Period.

Aside from Dane.

I smirked to myself as I stared down at the menu, already knowing how I was planning to play with her during the meal. And after.

God, the after was going to be so good.

“Do you have any recommendations?” Peyton asked, drawing my eyes up to her bright green ones. The way I could lose myself in those green eyes should alarm me. I shouldn’t want to be that close to anyone at all. “The menu is a little extensive and I can’t decide.”

“Do you like duck?” I glanced back down at the menu again. Although I had never been to the restaurant before, French cuisine was something I quite enjoyed.

“I don’t know.” She chewed on her bottom lip, “I’ve never had it. I’ve had nothing on this menu before.” She laid the menu down andstared at me. “I’m out of my depth here, Mr. Bryce. I believe I will excuse myself and allow you to enjoy your meal undisturbed. I’m not a fancy restaurant kind of girl.”

She put her napkin on the table and I quickly put my hand on top of hers on the table, stilling her. “Wait.” I could feel how on edge she was and could see the doubt burning brightly in her eyes. “Take a deep breath, Peyton.” Her nostrils flared slightly at her name, something I hardly used in place of the appropriate Ms. Everett. “This isn’t meant to be stressful.”

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