Page 9 of Stalker

Should have.

What I did instead was lock myself away in my office and investigate every single thing there was to know about the beautiful redhead.

And I mean everything.

Including her closet obsession with being chased through the woods by a masked man before he used her for sexual pleasure.

That had been unexpected,sure.

It had also been the straw that broke the camel’s back and forced me to accept her application, offering her the job electronically with a benefits package far too enticing to turn down.

I needed her to accept and wouldn’t leave anything to chance to get what I wanted.

Which she did, immediately.

And I’d been obsessively stalking her ever since.

Then she appeared, and sat in my guest house, on my couch, searching a porn site for her dirty drug of choice. So I watched.

I was always watching.

The monitors laid out on the wall behind my desk showed me every single thing I ached for. One showed the camera in the living room of her guest house, zoomed in on her so I could see the pulse point on her neck throbbing harder the longer she explored the site. Another one was screen shared with her laptop, so I could see everything she was looking at, even where her cursor was on the screen.

The others were on the normal things I monitored in my in-home office. Security footage, internet hacking, and other coding stuff.

But I’d never been more interested in what was being displayed before me than I was at that moment. Before Peyton took up residence in my home, I lurked through her computer only. Since her arrival, though, I had her within reach.

Yet, just far enough away to keep her safe. Because I was the worst kind of monster, and she was too perfect to break.

She scrolled through more articles on her newest fascination, primal kinks, and then clicked on an amateur video of a woman being chased through a haunted house.

The video was shaky, and you could hardly make out the woman past her screams of terror and delight as the man got closer to her at every turn until he caught her. I watched in fascination as Peyton’s lipsparted and her little pink tongue ran over the fullness of her bottom lip while she watched the woman thrash around as the man set his camera down on a chair before pushing her up against the wall.

Peyton swallowed almost audibly when the woman bucked while the man lifted her short little schoolgirl skirt and pushed himself inside of her without warning. The woman moaned and Peyton sighed, running her fingers over her collarbone absently as she stared, engrossed in the film.

My cock was so fucking hard it pulsed in my jeans. I fucking hated jeans, but I hadn’t taken the time to get changed after getting home. I all but ran right to my office to stalk my new housekeeper the second I walked in the front door. She had no idea I was back at Hartington, and I wanted to see her unreserved self.

I palmed my erection as I stalked her, watching the kinky porn balancing on the precipice of consent. She was so entranced by it she leaned back into the couch and ran her fingertips down the front of her chest, gently dragging them over one of her hard nipples through the thin fabric of her sleep shirt.

I only had one camera in her house, the one in the living room because even though I was a dirty fucking bastard, I couldn’t bring myself to spy on her where she would be naked and vulnerable. She always wore clothes as I watched over the last three days because the large windows overlooking the pool had no blinds on them, ensuring she never stepped foot out of her bedroom or bathroom naked.

If I ever saw her naked, she’d know I was watching her.

I wouldn’t take that from her in secret. She’d know I was looking, and she’d give it to me willingly.

But fuck if I didn’t ache to know what her breasts looked like bare. What they tasted like. What she sounded like when I took a bite.

Obsessed didn’t even begin to describe it.

I knew if I kept watching, I’d see something I didn’t deserve, but I wasn’t willing to stop completely. So instead, I redirected her attention.

I typed out the code to interrupt her porn video just as the woman on the screen begged for more and then watched in fascination as Peyton leaned closer to the computer screen to see what I did.

I sent the pop-up message through the site to the center of her screen, pausing her video remotely, giving her no choice but to allow me to interrupt her.

What is it about the chase that excites you?

She leaned back against the couch like she was trying to create space between the computer screen and herself and then glanced outside at the darkness. Did she think someone was watching her? Did she feel my eyes?

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