Page 12 of Stalked
“Don't look away,” I warn, stroking faster. “This is all for you, Lia. Every fucking drop.”
My orgasm tears through me like lightning, and I groan her name as thick ropes of cum spurt onto my bare abs. I don't breakeye contact, wanting to see every reaction cross her face as she watches me mark myself with thoughts of her.
I watch her face as I come down from my high, chest heaving, sweat beading on my forehead. The aftershocks of pleasure ripple through me as I run my fingers through the mess on my stomach, holding them up to the camera.
“Wish you were here to lick it all up like a good girl,” I say. “Bet that pretty mouth would feel amazing wrapped around my cock.”
The words hang between us for a moment. Then I watch the transformation happen on her face—the desire in her eyes clouding over, her lips pressing into a tight line. The flush on her cheeks deepens, but not from arousal this time. Shame washes over her features as reality crashes back in.
Without a word, her screen goes black. Call ended.
“Shit,” I mutter, reaching for a T-shirt to clean myself up. I'm not surprised she bailed, but the abruptness still stings.
I toss the shirt toward my overflowing hamper and grab my phone, typing out a message before she can pretend this never happened.
Nice try. No hiding now. We're going to prom in two weeks, and after, I'm making good on my promise to taste that sweet pussy of yours. Maybe I'll bend you over in the back of my car with your dress pushed up around your waist and give you my cock, too.
I hit send and watch as the message is delivered. The read receipt appears almost immediately. She's staring at her phone, probably freaking out about what just happened between us.
I wait for those three dots to appear, for her to tell me to go fuck myself or threaten to block my number. But nothing comes.The screen remains unchanged—my message sitting there, read but unanswered.
I grin to myself, dropping my phone on the bed beside me. Her silence tells me everything I need to know. Lia Morgan might be having second thoughts, but she'd have shut me down immediately if she weren't interested.
Two weeks until prom. Two weeks to make sure she can't think about anything but me.
5
LIA
The cafeteria buzzes with pre-prom excitement, a noise that makes my head throb. I push the salad around my plate, barely listening as Megan details her epic plan to convince her parents to extend her curfew tomorrow night.
“I told them the after-party is at James's house, and his parents will be home,” she says, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder. “They don't need to know his parents are actually in Cabo.”
“My dress is so tight I can barely breathe,” Zoe groans, “but worth it. Tyler's going to lose his mind.”
Dani nudges me. “Earth to Lia. You've been weirdly quiet all week.”
I straighten up, plastering on a smile. “Just stressed about finals.”
“Finals? Who cares about finals when prom is tomorrow!” Megan leans across the table. “Speaking of which, you still haven't told us who you're going with. Please tell me you're not going alone.”
My stomach twists. Two weeks have passed since that video call with Vane. Two weeks of ignoring his texts, avoiding his eyesin Chem, and avoiding this exact conversation with my friends. I open my mouth, but the words stick in my throat.
“She's probably going with some hot college guy,” James says, rescuing me without realizing it. “Too embarrassed to tell us mere mortals.”
“As if,” I manage to say, but my laugh sounds hollow even to my own ears.
Across the cafeteria, I feel him before I see him. Vane enters with his usual swagger, a few guys from the basketball team trailing behind him. His eyes find mine immediately, like he has some internal Lia-radar. The corner of his mouth lifts in that smirk that makes me want to slap him and kiss him in equal measure.
“Seriously, though,” Zoe persists, “who are you going with? We need to coordinate the group photos.”
I tear my eyes away from Vane. “I—I'm just?—”
“Don't tell me you're still deciding between offers,” Dani teases. “The prom is literally tomorrow.”
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I already know who it is without looking.
“I'll figure it out,” I mumble. “Just haven't made up my mind yet.”
