Page 48 of Stalker's Toy

I love her, but only to a point.

And this point, right here, feels dangerously close.

Before I can answer, she's clapping her hands together, a smile too wide to be real. "I can't wait to see the city with you. What should we do now? Maybe a gallery, or we can swing by yours? Shopping? Lunch?"

She gives me no time, no room, no chance to breathe.

Inside, I'm stewing.

Outside, I sip my coffee, trying to hide the boiling underneath.

I only want to be alone, to think about Mia.

To envision my cock sliding in between her lips as she opens wide, sucking me down.

She's across town at art school, and who knows what could happen in my absence?

I've heard about the shit that goes down there.

Those students and their bohemian dramas.

She's not safe.

She needs me.

"Meetings," I say finally, each letter a hard stop. "Ihave meetings."

Then I do the thing I always do, the thing she always makes me do. I relent. "I’ll come home as soon as I’m done."

Her face lights up like she's won something.

I guess she has.

"Perfect. I'll shop around while you're busy. I want to look nice for dinner tonight."

She's fake, so fake in her mannerisms, never noticing how I grind my teeth.

Finally,finally, she leaves the room.

I rub my temples, fighting that feeling of helplessness, of inevitability.

My life has become this swirling, uncontrolled mess since she arrived.

My focus, my desire—it's all scattered, tangled in obligations.

And Mia, she's on her ownfor now.

My mother's heels click away.

I sit here, jaw clenched, watching her go.

It's always like this.

She sweeps in and leaves my life in tatters.

Hell, years ago I thought I'd never forgive her.

She's the entire reason Anastasia ran out of the house that night.

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