Page 67 of Dominated

It was because of him.

How could a man I had known for such a little amount of time have such a hold on me? A man who really knew nothing about me. He couldn’t order for me off a menu; he didn’t know my style, my interests; he didn’t know if I had any hobbies beyond Lush and what I enjoyed doing there.

Hell, he didn’t even know I’d never been in love before.

All he knew was my body.

But that, even at this very moment, seemed like more than enough.

As soon as I’m consumed with love, everything has to—

That thought came to a screeching halt as I heard a noise behind me. The path had been practically silent since I’d started my run, but now, there were feet pounding the ground. Someone was moving as fast and as hard as I was.

I purposely hadn’t put on any headphones so I could hear and be aware of every detail.

Am I being paranoid after Bale’s warning?

Or cautious?

I didn’t know, but as I glanced over my shoulder to ease these thoughts, the sight caused a whole new layer of worry.

The man was about ten or fifteen yards behind me, dressed in all black. He even wore a hat low on his face, preventing me from seeing anything but his lips. The dark morning light didn’t help; it created a shadow to the side of his body, permeating fear as he got closer.

Am I imagining this?

Am I making something much larger than it is?

He’s just a runner—like me.

That was what I told myself as I looked straight again.

That there were times during the year when I dressed in the same dark colors as him and wore a baseball hat rather than twisting my hair into a knot or ponytail.

Maybe Bale’s news was causing me to create these fearful fantasies that just weren’t true.

Maybe this guy was training, maybe he was a sprinter, maybe he was a professional athlete, and this was his morning workout.

But I still found myself increasing my speed, attempting to put more distance between us.

And when I checked his location again, I noticed his speed had increased too.

In fact, he was gaining on me.

And instead of running a little to the left or right of me so he could easily pass when he did catch up, he was directly behind me.

Like he was in my lane.

Like I was his target.

Like the second he was close enough, he was going to grab me.

Oh God.

That thought, mixed with Bale’s warning, caused my heart to throb in a way that had nothing to do with running. My hands shook as I clenched them, moving my arms at my sides. My knees wanted to buckle, my legs to give out.

But I couldn’t.

I couldn’t let the worry take hold.

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