Page 17 of Stalked for Christmas

When we finally come up for a breath, I hear Tinley bundling Josh up to play outside. They’ve abandoned our show. Who knows how long we were kissing? I stare down at Mae and kiss her forehead, savoring the scent of berries on her skin. “We should talk, don’t you think?”

She nods and stares back at me with a look on her face I’ve never seen before. I can’t tell if she’s happy or sad, excited or terrified. Either way, I need to know more, and I need to know right now.

Chapter Seven

Mae

I pace back and forth in the bedroom as Luke leans against the solid wood door. “What are we doing? We’re confusing them. I’m confusing Josh, and your daughter… your beautiful daughter. She’s so sweet, and she’s already lost her mother. She doesn’t need confusion like this!” I stop to stare at him, wild in my eyes. “What were you thinking asking me to do this?”

“I thought she would like you. I knew she would.”

“So what? That’s not how you start a relationship. Is that even what you want?”

He stares back at me as though he wants to speak but can’t.

“You don’t know me, Luke! You knowwork me, notreal me.”

“I know all of you, Mae. I’ve been watching you. The way you move, the way you talk, the way you holler out obscenities at the TV when you’re watching trash, the way you knit by the fireplace, the way you care for your son like he’s the most precious being that ever was. You’re beautiful, and I knew from the very first second we met, that I should be protecting you.”

My jaw drops and I’m immobile, staring at him. “What do you mean you’ve been watching me?”

He lowers his head, before meeting my gaze. “I mean what I said.” His large frame steps toward me. I shouldn’t be turned on by him.A stalker is not sexy. A stalker is sick, mentally ill, not the kind of person you want hanging around you or your kid. Then again, a mentally ill man couldn’t have raised that girl I just met. That girl is sweet, kind, and she wants to care for people.

“What happened to your wife?”

He looks down then backs up slowly. “Ten years ago, this time of the year, she was up on Elderberry visiting a friend when a man came out of the woods and threatened them both. He was a convict who was supposed to be locked up in the Springs. He got loose and my angel tried to call the police. He ended things right then.” He trails off as he says, “I know watching you was wrong, but knowing you were out here alone, with that asshole lurking around, made it impossible to sleep. I had to know you were okay every night.”

“You slept in the woods last night, didn’t you? That’s why you took a shower here this morning.”

He nods. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t chance that guy coming back. It’s the only time I’ve ever stayed through the night. Usually, I come before bed, check on you, and leave.”

Why is my clit throbbing? Why am I soaking wet? Why do I like that he’s been watching over me? I’ve just heard the saddest story of my life, yet I’m desperate for him to hold me closer.

Maybe it’s me that’s sick.

For a second, I let my mind wander to what he may have seen. My night gown, me getting in the shower, the night I laid back on the couch and touched myself to dirty thoughts of him bending me over my office desk, hammering home the tasks I had yet to complete that day.

A chill runs up my spine, and there’s a dizzying realization that there is, in fact, something wrong with me. Of course, I’m horny. It’s been ages since a man has shown me any attention. The real question is, why is the dominance, possessiveness, and stalking turning me on?

Am I giving him a pass because of his backstory? Am I turning him into a sympathy case because he had a woman he loved, and when she was gone, he let life harden him? Am I romanticizing all of this because it gives me an excuse to finally let this big, rough, scrooge of a man finally fuck me hard?

Lord, I hope he fucks me hard.

A few seconds go by, and his hand is against my throat, the ink of his sleeve now easy to see as the button pops around his wrist.

He presses me against the back wall and bites me gently. The lobe of my ear, my cheek, my shoulder. It’s wild erotic and somewhat painful, but it lights me up, and I want more!

I swallow the heavy lump in my chest and let him devour me. His cock is hard and pressed against my stomach and his breath is hot on my neck. His tone is low as he says, “Do you want me to stop?”

I shake my head and make room for his teeth against my neck. “No. Never!”

“What about later? I don’t want to start this, just to stop again a month from now.”

“It’s too much to decide right now. I don’t know what I want in a month, Luke. I know what I want right now, and I know we probably have ten minutes to have it before the kids come in.”

“And then what? I look at you every day across the hall wanting you, wishing you were mine? It’s been torture enough already. I’ll wait until you’re ready to talk.”

Talking is the last thing I want to do right now. Right now, I want his giant, rough hands all over me, his teeth on my skin, his words in my ear demanding I get on my knees and suck his cock.

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