Page 2 of Stalked By the Intern

The halls of the firm are a maze of glass and chrome, people rushing past in suits and heels. The sound of clicking high heels echoes off the marble floors, mingling with the sound of voices and keyboards clacking on computers. Success surrounds me, like a thick, suffocating fog. But all I can see is her face—those captivating blue eyes, that angelic smile.

I make my way towards the break room, needing a moment to compose myself. Inside, I pour myself a cup of coffee from the industrial-sized machine and sink into a leather chair. It's quiet here, just the hum of the machine and the ticking clock on the wall. I close my eyes, trying to focus on anything other than her.

But it's no use. My mind returns to images of Willow. Her long brown hair cascading down her back as she paints, her gentle hands brushing against the canvas, her soft moans as I trail kisses down her neck...

Well, what I imagine her moans would sound like were I to kiss her neck.

She's all I can think about.

I finish the coffee in record time, eager to escape these walls and get back to my apartment to stalk her online. Another day closer to reaching my goal.

As I step outside, the rain has let up, leaving only damp pavement and lingering scents in its wake. My steps are quick as I hurry towards the parking garage, eager for solitude and peace. But then I see her exiting a taxi with an umbrella held over her head. She looks up, our eyes meeting for a brief moment before she turns around and disappears into the building.

She has no idea how much I live for each one of those casual glances. She might not see me, but I see her.

But when the day is over, reality sets in again. Willow isn't here. My phone buzzes with her latest Instagram post, and I can't help but feel a twinge of jealousy for every man who gets to see her in person every day. Her skin glows under the fluorescent lights as she poses with clients, her laugh echoing in my ears over her Instagram feed.

Back at home, I crack open a cold one and log onto her page again, losing track of time as I scroll through her feed. The thought of owning her consumes me—her body, her mind, her heart. I imagine her beneath me, moaning my name as I take her hard on the conference room table.

I spend hours online, studying every picture, every video, every like and comment she receives from strangers. My mind wanders to darker places. What if they aren't all strangers? What if she's dated some of the men following her? The thought makes me nauseous with rage.

I pour myself another drink, the ice clinking against the glass as I imagine our tongues tangled together, our bodies intertwined. The alcohol fuels my fantasies, making them more vivid than ever. I close my eyes and try to imagine her taste, the softness of her skin against my lips, the feel of her nails digging into my back.

Finally, I crawl into bed, drunk on desire and obsession. In my dreams, she's all I see. Willow's eyes fluttering open in the middle of the night, calling out my name, Willow's bare legs wrapped around me as we make love in her office, her voice trembling with excitement as I whisper dirty things in her ear.

All I can hear are her moans echoing in my head. I picture her naked body writhing beneath me, begging for release as I take control. I imagine running my tongue along her curves, tasting every inch of her. My hand finds its way to my dick, and I start masturbating, thinking about what it would feel like to be inside her.

The imagined sensation of her walls squeezing around me sends shivers throughout my entire body. Her tight little pussy clenching around my cock just as I'm about to come...She screams my name, hands digging into my skin as we move together in a primal rhythm. It's too much.

I can't get enough of her.

I need to be closer to her.

I slam my fist into the wall in frustration, feeling the pain course through my hand at the thought that she's so close yet so far away. How can I concentrate on law school when all I can think about is her?

***

The next morning, the classroom is filled with students, all eyes glued to the professor. My mind wanders off to pictures of Willow, the curves of her ass in her yoga pants driving me wild. My hand finds its way into my pocket, fingers tracing the outline my dick. Ineedto be inside her. Need to claim her as mine.

I fantasize about her dad, Richard Hartley, being out of the picture. No more obstacles between us. Just me and Willow. Consumed by these thoughts, I almost jump when the professor calls on me, but I manage to answer his question.

I flip open my laptop and log onto her social media, my fingers dancing across the keyboard as I look through her recent posts and photos. I'm not the only one obsessed with her. The comments are full of admiration and desire. I clench my fists, feeling a twinge of jealousy.

And then I leave the classroom, intent on making it over to her father's law firm as soon as possible, hoping for just the slightest glimpse of her.

CHAPTER

TWO

Andy

I'm sittingat my desk, hands shaking, heart racing as I stare at the clock. It's barely five in the evening, but it feels like hours since I last saw her. She's the reason I get up in the morning, the reason I breathe. Willow Hartley, the goddess of love and light, is due in any minute now. She's the only thing on my mind, the only person I think about. Hell, she's all I fucking dream about.

The office is buzzing with the typical sounds: phones ringing, papers shuffling, people chatting. But I can't hear any of it. All I can hear is the sound of my blood pumping through my veins, my heart beating in my eardrums. I need to focus on work, but how can I whenshe'sabout to walk through that door?

My gaze wanders around the room, taking in everything that reminds me of her. Her desk is empty, which makes me want to growl in frustration. Where the hell is she? I check my phone for the millionth time, but there are no messages, no signs of life from her. Damn it, where is she?

Finally, there she is. The door opens, and time seems to slow down as she steps inside. Her long brown hair flows behind her like a waterfall, catching my eye immediately. My cock hardens just from seeing her, and I force myself not to stare too much as she walks past my desk. She' s wearing this tight black dress that hugs her curves, showing off her ass and waist and those perfect tits she never wears a bra for.

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