Page 70 of Hayden's Stalker

I open my eyes and turn to look at her as I admit, “So, when I met a woman who was smart, sexy, wickedly funny, and wanted to spend time with me, even if I’m just a job for her, can you blame me for caring too much?”

She stares back at me, her eyes wide, her lips slightly parted, and she blinks at me without speaking for a few seconds. I can barely breathe, and I’m terrified that she’s going to tell me that she doesn’t care about me. I’m her employer and her being with me is just because she has a job to do.

“I don’t blame you, Hayden. How could I, when I care just as much as you do?”

My heart leaps when she admits this, and it’s a relief to know that shedoescare about me. It’s also scary because I don’t know what happens from here.

“Jesse basically just reamed me out for caring too much. He didn’t say it in as many words, but he might as well have.”

“What does this mean, Tatiana?” I ask quietly, mildly hopeful that she thinks there’s some chance for us to become something more.

“Ihaveto put your safety first. Not to mention that regardless of how he treats you, Blake is still your boyfriend. I honestly wouldn’t give a shit if you cheated on him at this point, because I hate him, but I wouldn’t want you to have that on your conscience.”

My cock jerks in my jeans, and I look over her body. I imagine pulling her down on top of me and kissing her. I can see myself pulling her blouse off and taking her breast in my mouth as she moans my name in ecstasy. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more.

“And if I’m fine with having that on my conscience?” I raise an eyebrow at her.

“You wouldn’t be the man I thought you were,” she says casually.

I can’t help but laugh, and I grin at her. “Yeah, I can barely handle the masturbation guilt. I don’t think I could cheat on Blake. I could definitely break up with him, though.”

The sexual tension crackles in the air around us because I’ve basically just admitted that I’ve masturbated while thinking about her.

“If you want to break up with Blake, you should. Please don’t do it on my account, though. We can be friends, and we can care about each other, but we can’t be anything more than that.”

Just like that, the sexual tension vanishes at the reminder that we have nothing but a professional relationship.

I nod solemnly at her, my heart hurting more than I care to admit when I say, “Yeah, I know. I’m just a job for you.”

“Stop saying that when you know it’s not true.” She frowns at me. “I’ve literally just told you that it’s not true. Just because Ican’tjump into bed with you doesn’t mean I don’twantto jump into bed with you.”

Her admission that shedoeswant to fuck me brings all of the sexual tension and images of us fucking back to the forefront of my mind.

I slide closer to her on the sofa and ask in a voice filled with all of the lust I have for her, “Doyou want to jump into bed with me, Tati?”

“If you don’t know the answer to that, I’m not telling you.”

I smirk at her response because she’s right that I know the answer. I can see it in the way her chest rises and falls quicker because she’s practically panting for breath. The way she’s staring at me like she wants nothing more than for me to reach into her pants and finger her.

“I’m going to take that as a yes, because you said you wouldn’t lie to me, and you won’t tell me the answer.” I allow my gaze to travel over her from head to toe as I take in every inch of her curves.

She backs away from me on the sofa, as though I might grab her, and says in a higher pitched voice than usual, “Fuck, Hayden. We can’t do this. We really can’t. We have to just be friends or I can’t be your bodyguard, and I’ll have to leave.”

“What can’t we do?” I smirk at her.

“Fuck, Hayden!” she repeats. “We can’t fuck. Yes, I want to jump into bed with you. We can’t do it, and that sucks, but you know what’s a whole hell of a lot better than sex with me? Breathing. You’re probably pretty partial to doing it. I’ve gotten pretty partial to you doing it since I met you. I, for one, would like you tokeepdoing it.” She stands from the sofa. “I’m going to go do last-minute packing for tonight. We have to leave for the tour bus soon. Jesse is sleeping on the sofa, and he’s given methe room.Thisisn’t a thing that’s going to happen, Hayden. We can only ever be friends because I’m going to keep you alive if it’s the last thing I do.”

She turns and strides toward the door, and I’m amused by her adamant protestations. As much as she’s saying it won’t ever happen, it’s obvious she does want me as much as I want her.

I can’t help but chuckle, “The lady doth protest too much, methinks.”

She spins on her heel to face me and snarls, “Don’t quote fucking Shakespeare at me. Doyounot care about your safety? Tonight, you’re going to be onstage in front of thousands and thousands of people. That is terrifying for me, and if it’s not terrifying for you, I want to know why.”

I frown at her, and the reality of my situation comes rushing back to me. I can’t be with her, and the idea of what she’s saying is so terrifying. It reminds me that someone out there wants to harm me.

I sigh and say, “Of course it’s terrifying, which I hate. I’ve always loved being onstage.”

“I’m sorry, Hayden. You’re not meant to be terrified.” She sighs and walks back to the sofa to sit next to me again. “That wasn’t fair of me. I’m not used to being scared, but I also don’t normally care about my clients. People are just jobs. I care about them in the sense that I want to keep them safe, and I know exactly what I need to do to be successful at that. I’ve never cared in the sense that I’m truly concerned about how I would cope if I failed to keep you safe.”

---