Page 56 of Hayden's Stalker

Tati flushes red, and my cock jerks in my jeans. I shouldn’t like her this much, but I can‘t seem to help myself. It’s wrong because I already have Blake, and she’s my bodyguard.

“It’s hard to resist the temptation to let loose,” she says.

I kind of wish she would. It’s obvious how much she’s enjoying this, but I still get the sense that she’s holding herself back.

“I won’t lie; it’s nice seeing someone drive this car for the first time. I’ve kind of gotten used to it. Every now and again, my brain will have a what-the-fuck moment about driving a Lamborghini, but mostly it’s just my car.”

It’s strange that I lead the life I do. I still feel like a regular person and not like a ‘rock star.’ It’s odd the way that having a lot of money changes your life. One minute we were struggling to pay our rent, next minute we had cash to burn.

I tried to be cautious with my money at first, but as it started piling up, it began to mean less if I spent a hundred grand on a car…then five hundred grand on the next one…and three and a half million for this one.

“Does she have a name?”

There goes my cool rock star image.

There’s no way that Tati is going to think I’m hot after I admit what name I gave my car.

She glances over at me, and heat rushes to my cheeks as she says, “Come on, it can’t be that bad.”

“Rainbow Dash.” I cringe.

Tati laughs. “Okay…why?”

“My niece was going through a big My Little Pony phase when I got the car, and she said that it was fast, like Rainbow Dash.” I smile as I think of Carmelita and how adorable she was when she said it. “The name kind of stuck.”

“That’s probably the cutest thing I’ve ever heard. You let your niece name your Lamborghini.”

She says it with a beautiful smile on her face, and she looks genuinely amused before silence falls between us. I turn my head to watch the scenery fly by, and I can’t help but think about how much I enjoy Tati’s company.

Setting aside the fact that I’m with Blake, I have a stalker, and she’s my employee. If we were in a world where there were no obstacles, there’s no doubt in my mind that I would want a relationship with her.

I know that there’s a real problem if I have to “set Blake aside” to fantasize about being with someone else. I love Blake when it's just us and he’s not questioning my every move. When he’s with my friends, though, he seems to go out of his way to embarrass me or create drama where there shouldn't be any.

I focus on the road ahead, deep in my musings, and try to ignore the woman in the driver seat next to me. I’ve just managed to successfully get my mind off her when she draws my attention back to her as she sighs loudly.

I look over to see her frowning at the road ahead of us, and I can’t resist asking, “That was a big sigh. What’s up?”

Her eyes widen infinitesimally for a moment before she composes her features and says noncommittally, “Just thinking about everything. I should be focusing on driving my dream car, though.”

I’m about to ask her to clarify what ‘everything’ is, but she turns her face quickly to beam at me, and her smile dazzles me. It’s the same excited look she got when we were talking about cars earlier.

“This car, specifically, is your dream car? Or is it just a dream car in general?” I ask, curious if she’ll actually answer a question I ask her for once.

She laughs. “This car is far beyond the realm of possibility for me. So far beyond it that I never even imagined getting to drive one. I’ve been lusting after the Aventador for years, though. I actually got to drive one two years ago.”

Oh, no.

I got rid of mine when I got the Sián, and I cringe at her. “I probably shouldn’t tell you…”

Tati looks over and grins at me. “That my dream car is basically your sloppy seconds?”

I burst into laughter. “Well, I wouldn’t exactly have phrased it like that. I should’ve known you would know.”

It’s strange that she knows so much about me and I know so little about her. At the same time, it feels like I know far more about her than I should. I know the way she likes her coffee. I know the little snorts of derision that she makes when she reads Bond books. I know that when she laughs, her eyes crinkle up. Details about her life before meeting me seem unimportant when it comes to who she is as the person sitting next to me.

She shakes her head and looks at the Lamborghini logo on the steering wheel in front of her. “Yes, when I saw you had the Sián, I was very curious about what your previous car was because I knew it had to be new. You don’t know how badly my heart broke when I found out you used to have an Aventador.”

“Would you have preferred to have driven that?”

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