STALKER
A POSSESSIVE MAN: BOOK 3
LENA LITTLE
© 2021 by Lena Little No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
CONTENTS
Mailing List Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Epilogue Extended Epilogue Also by Lena Little
PREVIEW
God, she’s perfect. All I can think about is her. My obsession drawing me to her. But next thing I know she’s slipped through my fingers. But stalking my prey is what I’m good at as a hitman for hire. I’m the man she needs, whether she understands just how much she needs me…or not. Yet. I’m going to find her and convince my romance novel junkie that a heartless man from the other side of the tracks is right for her. Usually when I do a little breaking and entering it’s because I’m setting up before my would-be target arrives home, only for me to swiftly execute him. This…this is di erent. This is me planning for a big event in the future all right, but not one that ends in tragedy. One that ends in triumph. But will my little girl catch onto me before I tell her who I really am? I’m an all-or-nothing kind of guy, and I always find a way. I knew she was mine for life the moment I laid eyes on her, that’s exactly what she is…whether she wants it or not.
MAILING LIST
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1 SEBASTIAN
W
ho is she?
I bend down, pretending to tie my shoe, allowing my narrowing eyes time to rake up and down her smooth skin. God, she’s perfect. But what is she doing out here standing in front of a bus stop all alone at this hour of the night? I untie and tie my shoelace again, something a hitman would never need to do in real life. It’s attention to detail that makes me who I am, and right now every detail, everything about her, has my undivided attention. The airbrakes of the approaching bus hiss and the double doors come flying open. The beautiful brunette climbs up the first step, smiling at the driver and moving toward a seat near the front of the bus. Without thinking, I tug my cap down over my eyes and step forward out of the shadows, stepping onto the bus just as the doors are closing. “Barely made it, sir. Last bus for the night too,” the driver informs. I nod, keeping my head down and being careful not to make eye contact with anyone as I find a seat a few rows back and
over from this girl who is doing things to me no other woman ever has. Squirming in my seat, I grip the seam of one of my pant legs and pull it down and away from my thigh, then do the same with the other. It’s no use. The fabric stays bunched up around my groin, my cock fighting to break free of the denim prison that’s struggling to contain me, to keep me away from her. My right foot taps on the floorboards while the fingers of my left hand cascade over my thigh. I can’t hold still. Can’t concentrate. All I can think about is her. With the same youthful smile a xed to her face as when she boarded the bus, she reaches into her book bag and pulls out an Amazon Kindle. A second later her entire expression changes as she begins reading, her mind entering a whole di erent world. The transformation is a sight to behold, like a butterfly regressing into a cocoon. My heart rate spikes as she flips her auburn hair over her shoulder, a portion of it cascading down the seat and positioning itself in front of the man who’s sitting behind her. He looks at her hair a little too long causing my fingers to dig into my palms as I form two fists, if that prick so much as thinks about leaning in and smelling her scent, taking a single strand of her hair, or if his face telegraphs that he might be thinking anything about her in any way other than leaving her the fuck alone I’ll knock him the fuck out. Wisely he goes back to looking out the window and I resume wondering where this girl is going. Completely losing track of time my body jerks when she stu s her Kindle in her bookbag and jumps out of her seat.
“I’m coming,” she says. “Reading again?” the driver smiles and she returns it, sending a spark of jealousy through me. “Good night, Sophia.” Sophia. That’s her name. I don’t even bother putting it in my phone because it’s etched onto my brain forever. “Good night, Rex,” she calls to him, but my mind only hears her angelic tone sing, “Good night, Sebastian.” Mind control is everything in my line of work as a hitman, and it can be used in more ways than one. The bottom line is it’s always used to get what I want. And I’ve never wanted anything more in my life than her. I slowly slide from my seat and exit the bus after her, a weird thing considering it looks like I forgot my own stop too. The bus driver makes no mention of it, and when a couple more guys get o behind me, it helps me fit right in. Moving swiftly from the stop I cross the street, seeing her reflection in an oversized shop window in the concrete jungle. She thinks I’m going in the complete opposite direction. Good, my misdirection worked and as soon as I see her head down an alley I circle back and follow her, my treadless bu alo moccasins not making a sound in the night. But my snarl does. Why is she walking down a semi-lit alley by herself? Who’s her father? And does he realize I’m about to pay his ass an unexpected visit and tell him in no uncertain terms he needs to do a much, much, much better job of keeping the jewel of a daughter he has safe. I shake my head and stay close to the wall, watching her body move as I match my steps to the cadence of hers.
Suddenly she stops and looks back over her shoulder. I jerk my body back, flattening it to the bricks that line the alley, and after a second passes she resumes her walking, picking up the pace. Not three seconds later two guys jump out of a perpendicular alley and immediately I identify them as the two guys who got o at the same stop as us. “Give us the bookbag, bitch!” one orders, pointing a knife at her. “We’ve been watching you for a week. We know you’ve got electronics in there. Hand it over and nobody gets hurt.” Her body jerks away in fear and my stomach rolls, never feeling so upset in my entire life, so inadequate as if I let someone down. I could have stopped this before it even happened, but there’s no looking back now. Only the time to make it right the only way I know how. “Hurt?” I snarl, dropping my voice an octave lower, a gravely threat as one man grabs her bookbag and yanks it from her shoulder while the other turns his knife in my direction. “Who’s there? Show your face, pussy.” “You signed your own death warrants when you pulled a weapon on a woman.” Diving out of the shadows I tackle the man with the knife, the blade flying as his head hits the concrete, knocking him out instantly. I jump up and deck the second man in the face, driving my fist into his mouth until a tooth pops out and lands on the cold concrete.
Something inside me snaps and I can’t stop, needing her to know she’s never going to have to worry about anything like this ever happening again. A full minute later I drop the other man, his body falling bonelessly on top of his friend. My chest heaving, I turn back to the girl…and she’s gone. “Fuck!” I grunt. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” She’s gone and so is her bookbag. No way she’ll ever take that bus again, which means the odds of me seeing her again are just as minimal. It doesn’t matter. I will find her. “Sophia,” I say under my breath, her name the sweetest sound in the world. Pacing back and forth in the alley, I run my hand through my hair and try and think of a way to find her in a city of this size. I don’t have much to go by, but I’ll do it. I look down at the two lifeless bodies and realize I need to get out of here. My eyes scan the area to make sure there are no clues that can tie me back to this incident and that’s when I see it. Her Kindle. Carefully I pick it up like it’s a precious stone. Opening the case it springs to life with color. I swipe my hands a few times until a litany of books appears. Clicking on the settings button I get what I’m after… REGISTERED USER: SOPHIA SMITH “Jackpot,” I smirk. A common last name, but there’s going to be nothing common about the way I’m going to find her
and convince this romance novel junkie that a heartless man from the other side of the tracks is right for her. And that’s exactly what I’ll do. Become I’m the man she needs, whether she understands just how much she needs me…or not. Yet.
2 SOPHIA
“T
hat figures,” I hu , slapping my hand on the steering wheel and popping the hood to my car. She’s a beater for sure, and considering my barely street legal car is as old as my eighteen years, there’s not a lot I can really come to expect of her…which is why I usually take the bus at night to the community college. The last thing I want to do is get stranded with a car that doesn’t work and no more busses running. But during the day, when the temperature is warm? It’s the first time the engine has stopped worked. I push open the door and make my way around the front of the car to the hood, pulling it open and realizing I have no clue what’s going on in front of me. “Need some help?” I cock my head around the hood and my tired eyes lock on a man who looks like he must be double my age walking a too cute for words French Bulldog. “Not much anyone can do at this point.” I shrug.
“Won’t hurt for me to take a look.” His eyes are dark but welcoming. Not to mention he has a small dog that looks to be happy and well-groomed. After last night I need to be more careful around people, but this isn’t a dark ally at night. This is the day, and this man in the suit with a perfectly trimmed beard is standing right in line with the security cameras in my apartment complex’s outdoor parking lot. “Be my guest.” I extend my hand toward the engine and take a step back. “Let’s see what we got here,” he says out loud, moving in closer, but keeping a safe distance from me. I take a step back, just in case, yet my mind curses my feet for the action…the woodsy smell of him beckoning me closer. Placing both hands on the front fender he looks over the engine, and I have a second to look at his crooked fingers and the many scrapes and scratches, and even scars on the back of his hands. He mumbles a few things as he tests some hoses and knocks on a couple of things, speaking under his breath as if he’s going through a checklist with extreme precision. “You’re not a mechanic are you?” “No, but I used to work on cars with my dad as a kid before he passed away.” “Oh. Sorry.” “It’s okay. It was a long time ago and the years I had with him are special. I’ll never forget them.” He pauses. “Everything checks out here. Mind if I get behind the wheel real quick?”
I remember the keys are in the ignition and he could drive away with my car. Then I do a giggle-snort combo realizing my car doesn’t even run so if he does get it to run in the first place it’s a miracle. And I doubt he’ll be driving away fast anytime soon. I can practically outrun the darn hunk of junk on foot. “Please do,” I confirm, and he moves behind the wheel. I go to follow him, to stand at his side, but he quickly says, “Keep an eye on the engine. Let me know if you see anything.” “Okay.” I move back in front of the car, his little dog looking up at me as she sits there just perfectly mannered. She’s not barking, not whining, not demanding attention…nothing. Clearly, she’s been trained, as there’s nothing from keeping her from doing anything she wants, other than the tall man who’s caused my car’s shocks to strain and creak by taking a seat behind the wheel. “Now?” he asks. “Nothing.” I shake my head and keep my eyes glued on the engine, although I want to look around the side of the hood at his wide shoulders, the ones that extend from the door to the edge of the passenger seat. Granted my car is small, but regardless, he is huge. For the first time in forever, I wonder if he’s huge somewhere else. The thought shocks me as I’ve never had time for men, let alone entertaining the idea of having a relationship with one. There’s just something so thorough, caring, and even paternal, in a protective kind of way about him. We live in a world where everyone’s rushing to make another buck, and
here this man is, clearly with a bank balance that tops mine, although that isn’t saying much, who’s so generously volunteering his time to help me. “How about now?” “Noth—” Like clockwork the engine sputters and coughs then comes to life, the sound sounding less like a rusty gate and more like a kitten purring by the second. “You fixed it. Wow.” “Couple cords got tangled. You’re good to go now.” He steps from the car, moving back toward me, and inspects the engine one last time before carefully lowering the hood. I appreciate him not slamming it, considering my ride feels like it could come tumbling down like a house of cards. “Is there a chance it might not work later?” “Not based on what I just fixed. Something else could always pop up, but that problem won’t bother you the rest of today.” He pauses. “If you’re worried I can give you a ride.” “I…” My jaw hangs open as I look for an excuse that doesn’t come. “Where you headed?” He winces ever so slightly after asking me and I wonder why, storing the thought for later. But it’s enough in the present to remind me to be careful about strangers knowing my whereabouts. “Not far. Thank you, but my car will do the job at least for another day.” “Okay.”
A beat passes and finally, he extends his hand. “Steven.” I wait, cautiously optimistic before I place my tiny hand in his big mitt. “Sophia,” I say softly, and thankfully the final syllable escapes from my lips before I make contact because the moment his skin touches mine the ability to form coherent sentences or thoughts for that matter, leaves me. My feet take root to the spot as electricity shoots through me. “Stephen King is one of my favorite non-romance authors,” I blurt out. “Mine too,” he agrees. “In general. I don’t read romance.” “Oh.” I go to take my hand back but he doesn’t give it, and a part of me is glad. I want him to want it, to want me, to accept little ol’ young me. There’s something about the charisma he wields without even trying. Something magnetic about him, and it keeps my hand glued to his until finally, he releases it. “I’m new here to the complex. I live just over there,” he says, pointing toward the units across the courtyard from me. “Do you like it so far?” I inquire. “I do now.” Yet another beat passes and I feel my cheeks heat. “I better get going.” “Yeah, me too,” he agrees. “I should get your number,” he asks, my chest caroming o my ribcage as butterflies take flight in my stomach. “I’m…I’m in the process of changing my number right now.”
“No worries,” he says, taking a step back before reaching down and scooping up his dog. “I’m sure we’ll see each other around.” “I’m sure of it too.” And with that, he walks toward the front gate and disappears into the city. I turn and look at my car, running perfectly…and I’m glad for the help from this handsome stranger. One who’s already burrowing into my brain as I drive my car out of the complex, catching a grandma type bending down and tugging on Steven’s dog’s ears down the block. Jealousy streaks through me before I shake my head, reminding myself she’s twice his age. I have nothing to worry about when it comes to Steven, not that I have any sort of claim on him or him on me. Yet.
3 SEBASTIAN
K
eeping an eye out over my shoulder, I catch Sophia leaving the apartment complex and double-back to the complex’s reception where I inquire about the apartment for rent. Once I put the cash on the table for the first and last month’s rent and the security deposit, the woman hands over the keys and takes me to it. Ten minutes later and she’s gone. I move to the window and look straight across…a dead shot into Sophia’s place. “How do you like that view, Louis?” I ask my newly adopted French Bulldog. I pour some water into the doggie dish I brought with me and slide out of my place, moving through the courtyard toward Sophia’s place. I can’t help but laugh at the name I chose. Steven, because I saw her collection of Stephen King books on her Kindle, and also Inc. Magazine had some story online back in May 2017 that said it’s the number one name to give your son to ensure success. And it sure looks like it worked. She bought it hook, line, and sinker, and it never occurred to her that I was the one who doctored the wiring on the car so
I could come in this morning and play hero. The only trick was staying far enough back while I waited on her to leave her apartment, seeing as I didn’t know what time that was going to be. The last thing I needed was someone seeing a six foot five inch guy lurking in the bushes. Sliding a skeleton key inside her lock, I give it a wiggle, and then another, and the door pops right open. I move inside casually as if I belong and shut the door behind me. Relief at how easy that was washes over me and excitement of what I’m about to find thrills me. On the other hand, I’m disappointed that the door opened so easily and she left the house without securing the deadbolt. I’m going to have to make sure she understands her security is paramount to everything in this world. Moving through the tiny apartment, the first thing I see is a co ee cup on a table that seems to be doubling as her studying table and dining room table. Next to the cup is a spoon, and I pick it up and look at my reflection in the scratched silver. When I catch sight of her lipstick on the spoon, I can’t resist. “Let’s see how you taste.” I bring the spoon to my mouth, closing my eyes and sliding it past my lips and onto my tongue. “She likes her co ee sweet, or maybe that’s just her natural taste,” I say out loud to clearly no one but myself. Placing the spoon down I take the cup and run the tip of my tongue along the edge, realizing at this point I’ve basically just gotten as close to kissing her without our lips actually making contact, or clearly without her consent. That will come. I set the cup down and move into her bathroom, looking at her minuscule makeup collection. It’s good because she’s as
naturally beautiful as they come. She doesn’t need to be wearing makeup for me and certainly not to impress other guys. There are no other guys. If there is or was, that ends now. Taking her hairbrush, I bring it to my nose, inhaling her scent before removing exactly five hairs and then carefully placing them in a tiny zip pouch in my jacket pocket. There’s something about being here that makes me feel so damn alive. Usually when I do a little breaking and entering it’s because I’m setting up a nice place to sit before my would-be target arrives home, only for me to swiftly execute him while sitting on his couch. This…this is di erent. This is me planning for a big event in the future all right, but not one that ends in tragedy. One that ends in triumph. I’m going to get her out of this rundown place and get her into a big house where she belongs. One with a big enough yard where our kids can run and play and laugh and jump and scream until their heart’s content. A property big enough that she’s got all the room she needs, but still is cordoned o from society and kept safe, so what damn near happened last night never happens again. Moving to her bedroom, I look at the tiny twin-sized mattress and wonder how in the world I’m going to claim her there without breaking the tiny thing into a million pieces. The question lingers over me as my lack of sleep from last night catches up with me. Seeing her girly dresser just a few steps from the bed I open the top drawer and find exactly what I was looking for…a fresh pair of panties, with little
strawberry designs covering the white fabric. I ball them in a fist, bringing them to my nose, and then inhale deeply, causing my cock to hammer in my pants. I move back to the bed, lying my big torso across her bed and squaring my knees o the side so my feet rest on the floor. I need to respect her bed, it is where we’re going to conceive our children after all and I don’t want to dirty it with whatever’s on the bottom of my shoes. Keeping the panties held up to my nose I slowly drift o to sleep, wondering how I ever lived without her…and determined to find a way for her to feel the same, about the killer who’s currently trespassing in her most personal of spaces.
4 SEBASTIAN
T
he sound of the front door opening startles me and immediately I fall back on my training. There’s no window big enough to escape through so I do the only thing I can, darting from the bed and tucking myself inside her closet, peering out from behind the angled wooden slats. “Did I really forget to lock my door?” she asks aloud from the other side of her apartment. No, Precious. I passed out and forgot to get out in time and now I’m facing the very real possibility of getting caught red handed before our romance even unfurls. The sound of her bookbag making contact with the table alerts me to her location. “Wow, it’s really hot in here,” she says aloud. Seconds later she moves into the bedroom and I have to pull my head back a bit, my breathing so ragged she might hear, as she reaches for her shirt and pulls it up and over her head. I bite down on my fist, taking in the sight of her pink bra as she slides open her underwear drawer. “Where are they?” she asks, before finally pulling out a white bra with red strawberry prints and setting it down on
top of her dresser. “There’s the top. Now the bottom.” She digs some more until finally she stops and exhales hard. “I would have sworn the panties were clean too. Hmph.” I look at my hand, realizing I hold exactly what she’s looking for just as she is exactly what I want to pull in tight and hold her like I own her for the rest of eternity. She leaves the bedroom and a few seconds later I hear the shower water running. “Fuck,” I groan, closing my eyes as I hear her brushing her teeth and then the sound of the plastic shower curtain sliding across the pole and then back again. The sound of the water hitting the tiles is replaced with a pause, and then bigger downpours of water hitting the shower floor as she must be washing her hair. My foot taps. My heart jackknifes in my chest. It feels like Wolverine himself is ripping those metal claws straight down the center of my chest, rearranging organs inside me, making me new. I can’t resist. Slowly, I open the closet door and move toward the bathroom, catching the silhouetted outline of her figure behind the curtain as she lathers her chest before stretching her arms toward the ceiling and soaping up her arms. In this position, her tits look more perfect than a statue in the finest museums in Paris. The cool water has her peaks taut, and I step closer, wanting to step in behind her, wrapping her up from behind and showing her just what she does to me. Her hand moves in-between her legs and I jam mine inside my boxer briefs, touching my groin while she’s touching hers. My eyes close, and a moan escapes me. Her body freezes and quickly I dart out from the bathroom doorway
and back toward the bedroom, just as the shower curtain comes ripping open. “Those guys last night really have me spooked,” she says as she lets out a long breath. I feel like an asshole. I may have been a good guy last night, but now? I’m just as bad as them. Or am I? Am I worse? I move back into the closet, carefully pulling the double doors shut, and not two minutes later she comes strolling into the bedroom with a towel wrapped around her head and another around her perfect body. “Take it o ,” I grit out softly. But all she does is take a paperback book from underneath her bed and begin reading. I wish I would have brought her Kindle, just left it somewhere so she could easily find it, maybe writing o its sudden reappearance to the shock of last night. But I can’t. I can’t get ahead of myself. As she flips the pages the strangest feeling shoots through me. I imagine that I’m sitting there next to her bed, reading her that book as she wraps her arms around one of mine, begging me to read faster because the story is so exciting and the story hour we’re sharing before bed is so perfect. What the? I put men permanently to sleep with a gun, not little girls for the night with a book. So why do I want to expose myself, coming out of the closet and cuddling up next to her on the bed? Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like she needs my help, the book putting her to sleep within ten minutes. I wait for the wisps of her breath to push from her lips in rhythm, nice and long and deep, letting me know she’s long gone in a dream.
Carefully I slide from the closet, hovering over the bed and then delicately grabbing the edge of her blanket and pulling it up to her chin, so she stays warm tonight…being that I’m not going to be able to stay around to do it myself. For long minutes I just stand there, watching her sleep. Her body, her breath, her face…everything about her so peaceful that this moment belongs in a painting of an angel. Moving into her main living area, I take her phone and install a GPS app. Her phone doesn’t have a password, which makes the job easier, although I wince at the thought that this girl is a moving security violation. She really needs me to help her out, which is exactly what I’m doing…providing a service to prevent an actual bad guy from causing her harm. Just the thought of anything happening to her makes me want to howl at the moon, tear that fucker straight out of the sky. Once the tracking app is downloaded I put it in a hidden app drawer and move back into her bedroom to get one more look at her. What I want to do, stay, and what I need to do, leave, play a game of tug of war in my mind, with the wrong choice feeling too right and winning out in the end. With the tips of two fingers, I pinch my zipper and drag it down, jerking my pants down to mid thigh and my boxer briefs right along with them. Half a second later I’m sliding my rough hand up and down my shaft, trying to suppress my ragged breaths as my balls quickly pull up tight as I fuck my fist like an animal. With my free hand, I lean in and brush her cheek ever so slightly. She rolls into my touch and it sets me o , my hips rocking back and then exploding forward as I slide my hand o my shaft and cup the crown of my cock, a
geyser exploding into my palm, the spend bubbling up between my knuckles and dripping down my arm. “Fuck,” I grunt, quickly pulling my pants back up and then returning her panties I borrowed to her drawer, stu ng them down in a corner so she’ll find them when she does a more thorough look for them. But I’m not leaving empty handed. Moving to the shower her clothes from today are still lying on top of the toilet seat cover, and I snatch up her panties, bringing them to my nose and exulting in how much more I like a worn pair than a clean one. The clean ones were great, but nothing tops her actual feminine scent branded right into the fabric. Carefully folding them into a tiny square and then stowing them in my pocket, I show myself out the front door. As I reach the end of the hall a nosey neighbor lady greets me with, “Are you Sophia’s new friend?” I nod. “I am. She’s not home though.” “Are you sure? I thought I saw her go into her apartment not thirty minutes ago.” “Maybe she’s sleeping. It’s okay. I’ll try tomorrow.” “I can let her know you came by,” she persists. “No, it’s okay.” “I’m Francine,” the woman says, stepping in front of me. “S-Steven,” I correct at the last second, damn near blowing my cover on day one. “That’s a nice name,” she adds, almost questioningly.
“Thank you. So is Francine.” I pause. “I really best be going.” “Of course,” she says, giving me a wide birth. “Nice meeting you,” I add as I glide past her down the stairs. “You too…Steven.”
5 SOPHIA
I
’ve never slept so well in all my life. Moving to the window I stretch up big and tall just as Steven is walking through the courtyard with a big bag of something or other he seems to have picked up from the store. After a long shower and a piece of wholegrain toast, I see just what it is. Looking across to his balcony there he is in a snug white T-shirt and navy blue sweat pants, reaching up to install security cameras while his little dog jumps up and down as if she’s trying to help with the process. It’s too cute and I’m tempted to take a picture with my phone, but realize at the last second that taking secret snaps of your hot new neighbor isn’t exactly the best way to endear yourself to them. But as the hot morning sun wraps around his building and lights up his unit, and he slowly strips o his T-shirt, I have second thoughts. I could tell he we built, but good grief. He looks more like a sculpture than human, more Adonis than Steven, more of an NFL linebacker than…what did he say he did again?
My eyes narrow as my brain processes the coincidence that he’s installing the security cameras, after feeling like I sure could have used some last night. Moving out onto the balcony I call out, “Wanna come over and install a few of those on my balcony?” I’m surprised at my boldness and take a step back as soon as the words slide forward from my mouth. He stops what he’s doing, turns to look where the sound came from, and then flashes me a lopsided smile. The way his body turns has his entire back flexing, muscles I didn’t even know the human body had, not to mention those boulders at the tip of each arm that he calls shoulders. “You’re in luck. Looks like I bought too many.” “I was just kidding,” I call back, just as my neighbor lady Francine steps out onto her balcony and shoots me a snooty look for no reason at all. “I’m not. You live alone over there?” I nod. “You need to be safe. I’ll be over in twenty minutes.” “You sure?” “One hundred percent.” Sliding back into my apartment I take a chair from the table and sit back so he can’t see me, watching as he capably drills the posts to the walls and then screws the cameras in place. He pulls his phone out of the single pocket in his sweat pants and despite the dark color with the phone now removed I can make out the shape of his backside. It’s as hard as the rest of him, but still cute all the same time.
He moves inside his unit and comes back out with lemonade, the cool drink drifting across his lips as sweat rolls down his torso. God, how I want to grab a towel and dry him o , or better yet take a shower with him. The sexual thoughts shake me and I try and stay focused on just admiring his work, but my mind won’t stop daydreaming. A few seconds later there are three loud raps on my door and I jump. How did he get over here so quickly? I jump out of my seat and rush to the mirror, flu ng up my hair a bit and putting on a swipe of lip moisturizer before moving to the door. “It’s the handyman,” he calls out playfully, and I cue up the bow-chicca-bow-wow fake porno music on my mind. But when I pull the door open there’s no joke to it. The only thing wrong about the sight in front of me is he put on a Tshirt, but the rest of him reeks of a woman’s fantasy. He’s holding a toolbox in one hand and cradling his dog in the other. “This is Louis,” he says, taking one of her paws and waving it in my direction. “She’s so cute. She is a she, right?” “Yeah. Louis sounded like the perfect French name for a French Bulldog. I got too attached to it before I realized a more female name probably would have been a better choice.” “It’s fine. I love it.” “And it looks like she loves you.” He hands Louis in my direction and she proceeds to lick my face like I applied a
coat of makeup from the makers of Chewy. “Let me take a look at your place?” “Oh, right. Sorry,” I say, stepping out of the way and he steps inside, checking the locks on my front door, before moving back into the hall and looking at the lightbulbs that illuminate the corridor. Then he moves back inside and checks out the tiny balcony, looking at the other balconies above, below, and to the sides of me. “Do you sleep with the windows open?” “When it’s hot. I don’t have air conditioning.” He just nods. “Android or iPhone?” “Android. iPhones are way out of my price range.” He nods again and gets to work drilling out on my balcony. I move closer to watch him, but still, try and give him enough space so that I’m not all up in his business, even though I want to be. “If you ever move out it’s easy to pull these down and patch the holes, so you can get your entire deposit back.” “Thank you.” He continues with military-like precision until fifteen minutes later he’s got two cameras on my balcony and one in the hallway. “I have to go back to the story later today. I’ll pick up a new deadbolt and a chain when I do.” “The ones I have are fine. Thank you though.” He slides one of his big digits behind the chain and flicks his finger forward, the chain nearly snapping o . “Maybe you’re right,” I relent. “Have you had breakfast?” he asks out of nowhere.
“Yeah. I just finished.” “What did you have?” “A piece of toast.” He crosses his arms over his chest and looks at me disapprovingly, almost as if…scolding me, and my body doesn’t fight his disapproval as I make myself small and push out my lower lip as I look down and away at the floor. “That’s not enough for you.” “It’s all—” “You like pancakes?” he cuts me o . “I definitely don’t not like them.” “That settles it. We’re out of here.” He closes the balcony door and moves toward the front door, looking at me with a ‘what’s taking you so long’ face. Still holding Louis I move toward him. “Where’s your phone?” “In my pocket.” He holds out a hand and I hand it over, dropping it in his massive palm. He pulls up the Google Play store and downloads something before handing the phone to me. “Whoa,” I gasp, looking at the two of us on the front camera as we step into the hallway. “Now you’ll know when that nosey neighbor Francine comes snooping around.” I laugh as he o ers me the space to walk in front of him. I slow, processing how he knows Francine, or that she’s my neighbor, or nosey for that matter. Surely her reach doesn’t extend into the other apartment block…does it.
The idea is quickly forgotten when his hand finds the small of my back, guiding me forward toward the stairs. It’s my one day o this week and I’m going to make the most of it. I’m not going to worry about little things that are just making me paranoid. Not to mention he picked the one day I’m free. It’s more than a coincidence. It’s meant to be.
6 SEBASTIAN
I
lift Sophia up and into the passenger seat of my Range Rover and reach across and buckle her in, careful not to brush across her chest, no matter how badly I want to. She holds onto Louis like they’re best friends and I move around to the driver’s side and guide the car onto the street. “I should have taken you up on that o er yesterday,” she says, admiring my ride, which makes my chest swell with pride. “You were right not to. Better to be safe. You never know who you’re dealing with.” Now that’s irony for you. We make light conversation on the way to the restaurant, Louis providing a lot of entertainment, but I still manage to keep my eyes on the road. There’s something di erent about having Sophia here with me, knowing she’s entrusting her safety to me, and I don’t take that lightly. It’s a privilege I’m guessing she’s never bestowed on another man. I take her to a hole-in-the-wall diner that’s more famous for their amazing eats than their decor. Being that she’s a millennial, or Gen Z, or whatever they call them these days, I’m impressed she doesn’t mind that the place isn’t
Instagram worthy. Instead, after her first bite, she just compliments me on my choice and gets down to eating. I try and do the same, but I’m distracted by those plump lips, the way she chews, and when she has trouble cutting through a piece of bacon, I’m quick with my knife and fork to prepare a bit-sized piece for her. Forking it into her mouth like it’s completely natural, she leans forward and wraps those bee-stung lips around the fork before slowly guiding her head back. My cock jerks in my pants, imagining it’s my rock hard cock in her mouth that she’s sliding up and down. Louis sits next to us on the floor, drinking from the dog bowl the restaurant provided and gobbling up the scraps we throw her. I come here a lot, often to celebrate after another successful hit, but of course, the sta doesn’t know that. It’s beyond strange that I’m here now, celebrating life, hers…ours, and the one I want to put inside of her. We look like a couple, except the age gap might throw it o a little. Nobody’s foolish enough to call it out or say anything about it though. After breakfast, including a donut with sprinkles for her, we run by the hardware store and buy new locks for her door and then I surprise her by taking a detour to the dog park. Louis is in heaven, running and playing with the other dogs and I take a moment to guide Sophia over to a secluded bench underneath a tree to get to know her better…or to make her think that’s what I’m doing considering I already know damn near everything there is to know from government records, Amazon account, email hack, and school files point of view.
But black and white facts aren’t what I’m after anyway. I want to know what makes her tick and then give her that and more every day for the rest of her life. I want to find out what scares her, and then crush it underneath my shoe definitively. “Tell me about yourself, Sophia.” I pivot on the bench so I’m more squared up to her, my eyes locked on hers. “I’m not very good at this.” “It’s your life. You’re an expert by default, so that means you’re the best at it. Just take a deep breath and let ‘er rip.” She smiles and a swell of pride fills me, knowing I’m responsible for her newfound self-esteem. “Well…it’s kinda personal, but maybe it’s time I told someone. I mean there’s something about you, maybe because you’re older. You’re easy to talk to and not judgey at all.” “I’m not that much older,” I feign protest, and she laughs. “Older in a good way. Trust me.” She takes a deep breath and lets it out before starting. “I don’t want this to sound like a sob story, because it’s not.” I bring one hand up and stroke her hair, tucking a lock behind her ear which clearly relaxes her. “I have no idea who my mom and dad are. I grew up in an orphanage. Whenever potential foster parents would come by I’d intentionally undermine my chances of getting a second look, acting unruly and wild. I’m not sure why other than I just didn’t want to be with a family that wasn’t my family, which is kinda weird considering my family didn’t want me.”
“You can’t blame yourself.” I rub her back. “If you don’t know who your parents are then I’m guessing they walked out on you before it was a conscious choice. It was probably financial, and it definitely wasn’t anything personal. You were a baby…right?” I ask, already knowing the answer. She nods. “What about you?” “My old man works as a cop and my mom a waitress.” “Here in town?” her ears perk up. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?” “No, they’re not even in this country.” I leave out the fact that they’re technically fragments of my imagination and I only went with a police o cer for my fictitious father’s profession because I saw more than a few cop romances on her Kindle. The mom working in the diner seemed like a logical match considering how much time cops are known to spend in them. “Oh,” she deflates. “I wish I knew my dad.” My hands move down toward her hips and instinctively I lift her up and onto my lap, setting her down on my thigh as I wrap one big arm around her in a hug while I start bouncing my heel o the ground. Neither of us says a word, but she leans back pressing her ass against my now throbbing groin, and starts gyrating like a girl with no experience who’s trying to learn on the fly. Exactly the kind of girl I want Sophia to be. Innocent in all ways, so I can teach her, mold her, make her mine in every way. My hug turns more aggressive, one hand cupping her breast as my other hand guides her forward and back on my leg.
“Wha—What’s happening?” she asks as she moves her hips faster. “You’re making Daddy very happy.” “D—“ “You heard me. Now say it, Little Girl.” “D—Daddy.” “Like you mean it.” “Daddy.” The word ricochets through me and I snarl into her ear from behind, nibbling her lobe as I tuck my chin into the crook of her neck and go for broke as the friction between her pants and mine is hot enough to shoot sparks. “I feel something in my tummy.” “That’s a gift from Daddy. Now you’re going to let it out for me. Understand?” “I…I can’t.” “When I say three, you can, and you will,” I growl. “One… two…three…Come for your Daddy, Princess.” Her body explodes like a bomb, spasming on top of me as she clutches her hand over mine on her breast and with the other hand she reaches back and grabs my dick. I don’t stand a chance, my spend exploding in my pants like a teenage schoolboy. Our chests heave as we try to catch our breath, and make sense of what just happened. “You okay?” I ask, lifting her up and turning her so she’s facing me, placing a hand behind her head and bringing her into my chest.
“Uh huh. Can you just…hold me for a minute?” “I can hold you until the end of time because I’ve got all the time in the world for you, Little One.”
7 SEBASTIAN
I
enable the microphone on Sophia’s cameras and sit back in my apartment, popcorn in my lap and prepare for the show. As if the tilt, pan, and shift security cameras weren’t enough, I have the industry leading Panasonic FZ300 on a tripod in front of me. It shoots in 4K and basically sees in the dark. And with Sophia’s lights dimmed it’s exactly what the doctor ordered. My obsession pulls a book from underneath her bed, but as I lean in and zoom the camera I quickly realize it’s not a book. It’s a diary. She moves back to her bed, her perfect little breasts jiggling underneath her long, damn near transparent nightshirt. “Come on, Princess. Give me something to work with here.” I zoom in as far as the camera will go, but it’s not enough to see what she’s writing in her diary. Luckily she talks as she writes, so I crank up the volume of her security camera, even more, the earbud in my ear crackling.
“Hmmm,” she says, tapping the end of her pen to the book as she looks up and to the left, a body language tell signifying she’s trying to recall a memory. Then her eyes drift straight down, staying to the left as she telegraphs she’s having an internal dialogue. “Dear Diary. I have no idea what happened today,” she writes, “but I think I learned something about myself.” Another pause. “I always thought my life was fine, a bit challenging, but still okay, but today I realized that maybe something’s been…missing…all these years.” I swallow hard and lift my hips up from the chair, the circulation in my groin straining. “I like to think I can do it alone, but there’s something nice about having a man…a…a man who’s…like a father figure who can be there for me.” I swallow so hard I start coughing, a kernel of popcorn lodging in my throat. She writes some more but this time doesn’t speak as she writes, although her expression changes from trying to understand her feelings to embracing them, a naughty grin covering her face. “Come on. Say something,” I voice out loud, but she doesn’t give me anything else. It doesn’t matter. I know what needs to be done, and I’m more than happy to give her just what she needs. What we both need.
8 SOPHIA
T
he next evening
I don’t see Steven at all the following day, and by the time I show up to my night class at college, I’m fully missing him. I’ve thought about him more than I care to admit all day, and staying focused for a class that runs from seven to ten p.m. is going to be beyond challenging, especially with my neighbor who’s been Johnny on the Spot more than once, fully on my mind. As I approach the class, I reach for the door handle and pull it. It rattles but doesn’t budge. It’s strange that it’s not open in the first place, but when I catch sight of the sign on the door it makes sense. No Electricity. Class Canceled. I shrug and at that same second my phone chirps. Dinner plans for tonight? I look at the number and it doesn’t show an attached name, although I think I know who it is. It’s me. Steven. When I downloaded the security camera app I saw your number when the app sent the verification text.
I pause, looking at the message again as if he’s reading my mind. I look over my shoulder and see a few more students shu ing up to the door only to pump their fists when they see the class is canceled for tonight. Taking a step back and away I try and process what I think about Steven messaging me without me technically giving him my number. Then again his mind is like a steel trap so if he saw the number and didn’t forget it, well…that’s just who he is. Attentive and obviously considerate to invite me out to eat. Across town at college. Pick you up after? Class canceled. How about now then? I tap my foot and look o breath. Sounds good.
into the distance, letting out a
Pick you up by the clock tower. I’ll come back to the complex to drop o from there.
my car. Then we can go
Deal. If he seemed a bit pushy or intrusive with reaching out he’s anything but when I tell him I want to go home first, not to mention I wasn’t prepared for a dinner date. Heck, I’ve never even been on a dinner date before. Rushing back to my car I drive home safely but quickly, only to find Steven leaning against the front door of the complex when I arrive. “You’re ready,” I observe.
“Excited you said yes.” I smile. “Give me just a sec.” I run up to my place and approve my appearance as quickly as possible before I’m back down in a flash. “Where we o
to?” I inquire.
“It’s a surprise.” “Am I dressed for it?” “The question is never are you up to speed for the places I want to take you. The question is are any of the places we go worthy of your presence.” My heart does a backflip as he takes my hand, leading me to the Range Rover and lifting me up and in, buckling me in like last time. “No Louis tonight?” “She’s too busy chewing up pillows and shoes to enjoy real food.” I laugh and Steven walks around to the driver’s side, stepping in and his big hand takes hold of the stick shift and guides it into place, reversing out of his spot and then pulling forward with extreme precision as we glide down the road. To where, I have no clue, but all that matters is I’m with him. I just wonder if it will matter to him if I voice the things I wrote in my diary last night sometime tonight…or if I should keep it a secret for a while. I don’t want to come across as too aggressive, especially considering I have absolutely zero experience other than what the two of us did at the dog park.
I’m not really ready to ask to spice it up when I don’t even know the basics yet. Maybe this older man will take the lead like always and when he does I can guide him in the direction I want. “What you thinking about?” “Just how lucky I am that class was canceled tonight,” I say. “School gets all those tax dollars and can’t even pay the electric bill.” My body freezes, and I wiggle toward the door in my seat. How did he know that? He looks over at me. “What?” “How’d you know the electricity was out?” I ask. There’s a tick in his cheek and then quickly he says, “It’s trending on Twitter.” “Is that why you contacted me?” “I contacted you before I knew. I wanted dinner with you regardless of the time tonight.” “You have Twitter?” “Just for some work stu .” “I never asked you what you do.” “Electrical engineer.” “Oh.” I swallow my pride realizing of course Steven would know this information. Why am I being so paranoid? Why don’t I trust him fully? Why am I looking for something that isn’t there?
The conversation turns light again, Steven asking me about my studies and what I want to be ‘when I grow up.’ Something about the way he phrases it has me thinking back to my diary entry, imagining he’s a supportive father nurturing his little girl. But I don’t push it further, nor does he. We arrive at the restaurant, and to my surprise, it’s actually a super fancy hotel with a rooftop restaurant inside. “I’m underdressed.” It’s the understatement of the year considering all the clothes in my apartment wouldn’t be worth a single garment that most of the women entering seem to be wearing. “You’re fine. You look beautiful and cute at the same time.” “Cute?” He brushes my question o and hands the keys to the valet. Not two minutes later and we’re being whisked inside the restaurant and given a seat by the window, overlooking the city as we take in the nightscape view. When a helicopter flies by I almost choke on my drink. “Just some tourists,” he says, tracing the length of my wrist with the rough tip of his index finger. His digit continues into my palm, moving in a circle that causes my palm to sweat and the spot between my legs to respond with moisture in kind. All of this from just one simple touch? What’s it going to be like when he actually puts his hands on my body, my flesh? I sit there kind of dumbfounded, realizing my lack of experience has me paralyzed. I have no clue what to do, but luckily Steven takes charge, weaving our fingers together as he moves his chair closer to mine, signaling to the rest of the
restaurant we’re clearly a couple. And we are…and does it ever feel right. The waiter comes with our menus and I take my hand back as Steven uses the break to shove his long fingers through his hair. I catch myself staring at him, patting my hands on my thighs as I try to keep from sweating up a storm. “I just want to tell you how nice it’s been getting to know you,” I blurt out, unsure why. “I had an incident a few nights ago that rattled me a bit. A couple of guys tried to attack me after I got o the bus but someone stopped them. I wasn’t sure if it was targeted or not, but I was worried they might try and come at me again. Having you near makes me feel so much safer. It allows me to not worry or look over my shoulder all the time. I just wanted to thank you for that, but in the same breath I want you to know I would have been just as happy to be with you had that bad thing not happened. You’re perfect in any weather.” His eyes narrow and he slowly nods. “I’m sorry to hear about what happened. It won’t happen again. I won’t allow it.” Without letting another moment pass he unfolds the menu in front of me and points out some items he recommends. I appreciate his no-nonsense reply to the words I shared, and more importantly to the fact that he just left it at that, changing the subject back to the good time we’re having together. It’s almost as if his guarantee of my safety is so iron-clad that it doesn’t need to be discussed further. I like the way he’s so reassuring, his tall muscle-built body the physical proof that you don’t want to cross him or anyone who’s important to him. He continues guiding me through the menu, pronouncing things I have no idea about until finally, we stumble onto the back page.
“Steven, I really appreciate all these fancy dishes but I can’t lie. I’d probably be happiest with the spaghetti.” “From the kid’s meals?” he confirms, looking down at the menu but not judging. I nod, and he takes my chin in-between two calloused fingers, brushing the tip of my chin with his thumb. “If that’s what you want then that’s exactly what you’re going to get.” My panties dampen as he continues stroking my face, my skin growing hot and more sensitive to his touch as a crooked knuckle drags across my cheek. Beneath hooded eyelids his dark orbs admire me, their intense look causing my head to pull back a few inches. I’m embarrassed by his extreme admiration and my eyes look down and away, but they quickly catch sight of the crotch of his pants, which is protruding at an angle. A low sound leaves his throat and I look back up at him just in time to see his jaw slacken before he pulls himself back together. The waiter arrives in the nick of time to take our order, deflating the tension like letting the air out of a valve. Steven orders a steak and then the spaghetti for me, saving me the embarrassment. The next couple of hours fly by. We eat, we laugh, we tease each other. Steven even feeds me the best dessert I’ve ever tasted in my life, putting those boxed brownies and ice creams you can get in the grocery store to shame. Eventually, it comes to an end, and when I come out of the restroom the bill has already been taken care of and Steven’s o ering me his hand and guiding me toward the elevator.
But instead of hitting the button for the lobby, he selects the floor a single level down. “What’s on this level?” I ask as the doors open up. “Us.”
9 SOPHIA
T
he entire floor appears to be some kind of suite at the hotel, but I don’t get a chance to see it. Steven’s hands grab me, lifting me out of the elevator, and quickly my back finds the wall, his mitts raking down my flesh. My legs wrap around his waist like a belt as his mouth stamps down on mine. Hard. His fingers slide into my hair, cradling the back of my head. “Mine,” he grunts into me and I moan in response. I flex my cheeks, my hips pressing forward as his mouth continues devouring mine. My back arches as his kisses get more erratic until he’s face fucking me inches inside the doorway, the elevator having long ago disappeared. I feel like I’m falling into a canyon and there’s no fear of finding the bottom. It’s like I’m floating like this man’s touch can grab me and pull me up whenever he wants…whenever I want, playing my body like a marionette. My fingernails dig into his shirt as I urgently reach for his buttons, trying to get his shirt undone as quickly as possible. “Once we do this there’s no going back,” he threatens. “I don’t date or any of that kid’s stu . Once I claim you you’re
mine forever. You understand me?” “Yes,” I agree immediately and his hand slides down my back, kneading my ass cheeks, the pressure from his hips on one side and the wall on the other molding his hand to my butt. He runs a single finger down my throat, tracing a line right down the middle of my chest until without warning I’m ripped from the wall and carried toward a four-post bed, tossed onto the king-sized mattress with all the pomp and circumstance of discarding an apple core on the highway at sixty-five miles an hour. Something inside Steven has flipped, and I like it. There’s no more Mister Nice Guy here to help me with my car, or my security cameras, or any of that domestic stu . In front of me is an animal, a wild man possessed by the sight, the smell, the touch of me, and only me. Hovering over the bed he finishes o the job I started, removing his shirt, revealing a wall of inked muscle, a light splattering of dark hair covering his chest. He tosses the shirt to the side and stalks toward me, reaching for his belt as he slides it through the loops and drops it as he approaches the edge of the bed. His eyes drink in every inch of me like he still hungry despite everything we consumed. But the only thing on the menu right now is for him and him only, and he’s not about to order it. He’s going to take it. I make quick work of my clothes, getting down to my polka dot panties and matching bra. “Your underwear…it’s almost as if it’s made not for a woman, but a little girl. A good girl.”
Something about those two words hammer into my mind, the confession I wrote in my diary racing back, something inside me sharpening like the tip of a spear. Butterflies take flight and fireworks explode in my stomach as he dives in headfirst, grabbing my thighs and pulling my groin toward his face. He kisses my sex over the cotton and I reach for the sheets, trying to find anything to ground me as that feeling of falling happens all over again. With one hand he tugs my panties to the side and then down my legs, breathing on my cunt as his mouth worships the inside of my thighs with delicate kisses as his hand caresses my calf. “And if you’re a good girl,” he mumbles into my pussy, licking straight up my folds before shimmying out of the rest of his clothes, fisting his cock. “Then what does that make me?” My heart kicks into overdrive, blood hammering through my veins. “I…I’m not sure.” “Oh yes, you are.” “I really don’t know,” I feign ignorance, but quickly he grabs my hip with one hand and flips me onto my stomach, his hand coming down on my ass hard. “My Daddy. It makes you my Daddy!” I cry out, my stomach tightening as the gift of an approaching climax quickly rears its head. Looking over my shoulder I see his lip curl up in a snarl, then fall into a smirk. “Damn right,” he confirms, leaning in and stamping his mouth on mine, twisting my head back so our two lips can meet, but not showing any gentleness in his approach.
One hand slides underneath me, fondling my breasts over my bra, and his other hand cups my throat. His cock presses into my ass cheeks and I can’t help but wonder how he’s going to fit all of that inside me. “You’re so big, Daddy.” “Only for you,” he grunts, his words mu nape of my neck.
ed against the
In one move he flips me back over and slides down the bed, licking me open and flicking my pearl repeatedly with the tip of his tongue as his hands grip my cheeks hard. “Oh, fuck,” I moan, my fingers twisting into the sheets again as his tongue flattens and he grinds his face into my sex, moving his head from side to side and then up and down as if his body is a paintbrush and I’m his canvas. His licks are cherishing and obscene at the same time. Filthy and cherishing in the same breath. He cups my mons pubis and the thunderstorm that was already brewing inside me threatens to rain down. My hands dig into his hair as I rip o own tits as I flick my aching nipples.
my bra, squeezing my
“You like Daddy’s tongue buried deep in your pussy, Little Girl.” “Yes. God, yes,” I moan. “Then you’re really going to like this.” Suddenly I feel his tongue slide in even deeper and then his thumb presses hard against my forbidden back entrance. I suck in a gasp of air and my body goes o , jerking wildly as pleasure spears through me, starting in my core and
spreading out through my entire body, consuming me as I flop on the mattress like a fish out of water. My body convulses and then spasms some more as my release continues, but Steven gives me no chance to catch my breath. “Wet little pussy like this, would be a crime not to take advantage of it while it’s so ripe, so perfect, so mine.” He pauses. “This pussy’s never been touched before, has it?” I shake my head. “Tell me it’s never even been seen by a man.” “Never,” I say softly. “A boy your age?” “I’m not attracted to boys.” “Hell no, you’re not, because you’ve been saving it for me.” “Is…it going to hurt?” “At first, yes. But you’ll get used to it and then your body will crave it. Your body will need it. By this time next week, you’ll come ever time I walk into the room, you’ll need this dick so much. Your body will mold to mine, stretch to fit me and I’ll give you everything but it will never be enough, just like all of you could never quench my thirst for you.” He stu s a hand between his legs, stroking his thick inches with a clenched fist, the girth alone making me wonder how this is going to be mathematically possible. “Last chance. You ready for this?” “Yes, but please don’t hurt me.”
“I’d kill myself before I’d hurt you, Doll.” The intensity of his stare reveals the truth in his words, and my legs part in anticipation as I prepare for his invasion, his taking of my innocence. He leans in and kisses me tenderly, then places a peck right on the middle of my forehead. I feel the crown of his cock pressing against my opening. “You’re mine forever now. I’m responsible for you. You never have anything to worry about again. Nothing. You’re safe.” And with that, he punches his hips forward and I immediately wince. “Shhh,” he brings a finger to my lips. “It’s not going to hurt forever. I promise.” Slowly his hips ease back and then flex forward again as the two of us become one, the line where one of us ends and the other begins a blur. But as much as it feels like the joining of two people it also feels like a fullspeed collision, a train wreck as he picks up his pace, his eyes wild as he clenches his jaw and that tick I saw before in his chin reappears. As if he sees me staring at it he leans in and sears my mouth with a kiss. “Fuck. So tight,” he grunts, his features screwing up tight as he works in and out of me. “Not. Gonna. Last. Long.” “I’m right there,” I inform him, knowing that we’re both struggling to hold on. “Together. We’re going to do this together, but you’re the starter pistol that starts it all. You ready?” I nod.
“Hold on.” He takes in a deep breath, his chest swelling, and then he goes for broke, fucking me with reckless abandon, my body feeling like a rag doll caught in the jaws of a Pit Bull. “Come for me, Princess. Come for your Daddy!” he orders. The word makes me scream and as he continues bucking his thick trunk into my constricting heat I can’t hold back anymore. A wave washes through me and I cover his cock in my cream. He makes two more disjointed movements and immediately my hungry pussy clamps down on him, setting him o and he fills me with his white-hot gift, a geyser spraying against my womb over and over and over again until I can’t it hold anymore. Every muscle in my body is tense as he continues filling me until finally, he stops. A beat passes and then he falls face first next to me on the bed, his dick still buried to the hilt inside me. Without wasting a second he pulls me in close, cuddling me in front of him as his big arm wraps around me and provides that security blanket, that safety net, that he promised just minutes ago. “Now you’re mine,” he whispers into my neck, kissing me gently just behind my ear. “Yours. And you’re mine.” “Damn right, Little One. Damn right.”
10
SEBASIAN
A
week later
“Whatcha working on?” Two little arms wrap around my neck from behind just before I feel a cool kiss on the side of my cheek. “Just some transformer stu ,” I lie, looking at the fake program I downloaded from the Internet. It looks more or less like a city power grid and I spend most of my day pretending to keep an eye on it. As if I knew what any of it even meant. “I’d rather be helping you study though.” As soon as the words leave my mouth my phone buzzes in my pocket for the first time in a long time. I pull it from my pocket and see the notification on my Signal Private Messenger App. I don’t even have to click on it to know what it means. “Looks like they need me on site,” I bemoan. “You can’t skip it? Can’t stay here with me and have some fun working on some other things instead?” “You know I wish I could.”
I stand, her hands unwinding from my neck as I begrudgingly get my keys and get dressed, remembering what my life looks like now, her, and what it still truly is, a hitman with a past I can’t seem to give up just yet. Giving her ass a good squeeze I kiss her hard and make my way out the door, driving straight to the apartment where I was living before I met Sophia. It’s eerie seeing all the remnants of a life that was completely mine just a week earlier. Now it’s like a distant memory, but my muscle memory comes right back on cue. With lightning precision, I stick a knife in my boot sleeve, chamber a round in my Glock, and holster it in the concealed carry next to my chest, and then open the Signal message for the coordinates of tonight’s hit and a picture of his mug. I stare at the picture, but my eyes see nothing, the photo might as well be blank. Surely Sophia’s going to catch onto me. She’s not stupid. She’s smart as a whip in fact, and at some point, I won’t be able to just take o to check out a fake problem with a transformer, especially if she gets to looking around and runs a few simple Google searches and sees there were no problems with any transformers in the area tonight. The only problem is me, and the lie I’ve built around. The lie that’s too big to stop now. I have to put a ring on her finger so she can never leave me, even if she somehow does manage to find out the truth. Wife her up and move somewhere else where it can be just the two of us, and the family we’re going to build together. But that’s not fair. Her college is here. She’s happy here. And I’m only happy when she’s happy. What’s the solution then?
Moving to the parking garage I pull out on my midnight black Kawasaki motorcycle, winding through tra c as I make quick time to the coordinates I was given. For the first time in forever, I wonder what this guy did to deserve the hit that’s been put on him, the target on his head. But as soon as I roll up to the warehouse and see him opening a shipping container and at least twenty people come crawling out, coughing and gagging for air, I’m ready to kill him and not even ask for my fee. Just to make the world a better place for my unborn children. But I am taking my money for this job. I need every dime I can get so my nest egg for our kid’s college fund can be solid enough that when my ruse is up I can walk away knowing I’ll never need to work another day in my life or look back on this web of deceit I’ve spun. Because at some point if everyone believes it, it becomes real…right? The tra cked people are put along a wall and the boss man, from the picture I received, moves toward what appears to be an o ce. I slide along the side of the building, keeping an eye out for security cameras. Once I’m at the window I line up the shot and pull the trigger. The bullet cuts through the glass like sliced butter, the man slouching forward instantly and a stain of red soaking the wall. I bend down and grab the shell casing, and just like that I’m gone, disappearing into the night, my motorcycle my untouchable getaway vehicle yet again as people scream and run in a multitude of directions, trying to be anywhere but inside that warehouse. As soon as I pull up to a light I reply to the text for tonight’s hit with the numbers 1134. When you turn it upside down it spells out ‘hell’, and that’s exactly where that man and everyone I’ve killed before him are right about now.
I swing by my old apartment, showering quickly and turning myself back into Steven. I take a few deep breaths and am back in my Range Rover and headed back to my new place. “That was quick,” she says, as I step inside the door. “I’m e
cient.”
“So e cient it wasn’t even a problem long enough to trend on Twitter or be picked up by any of the news outlets.” I can’t tell if she’s patronizing me, catching on, or if she’s just really that loving, that supportive. I realize it’s the latter, and I need to calm the fuck down and stop being so paranoid, or else I’m going to give myself away. “Ready to study?” “I’m ready to know more about what you do and why you’re so good at your job.” “Just…years of experience I guess,” I explain. “You just show up to the location and…then what?” “Hook up some boxes that take readings. Diagnose the numbers and then have the onsite technicians make the appropriate changes,” I rattle o , trying to remember what little I learned from my cursory read about city transformers and electrical grids. “Why can’t the onsite techs diagnose the problem without you? I mean, why are those guys stealing my Big Bear away from Little Bear?” She wraps her arms around me and my manhood jerks violently. It’s only then I realize the shell casing is in my pocket. But how? I changed pants. Was I not paying
attention, simply moving everything that was in the pockets of my work pants to my ‘Steven pants.’ Her arms drift down and she cups my balls, her other hand sliding past my waistband and fisting my cock. “I think I’ve got a diagnosis here, Mr. Electrical Engineer. I feel a spark of electricity right here,” she says, wagging my dick in her grip, “and it’s about to explode.” “Oh yeah?” I turn my body quickly, knowing I can’t let her hand brush against that shell casing. There’s no way I’ll be able to explain that away. “Let me use the bathroom real quick and we’ll get right on that.” “On the bathroom sink. That sounds even better.” She follows me to the toilet and when I go to close the door she looks at me as if to ask why I’m being cagey. It only gets worse when I stand over the toilet, dick in hand, and not a drip is coming out. “You okay?” she asks, but not in a way where she’s concerned about my health. It’s more of the meaning that something’s not right, and it’s clearly my doing. “Yeah.” Desperate times call for desperate measures. I start coughing up a fake fit, dry heaving over the toilet. “I knew that fish was bad,” I curse. “Oh my, God. Let me get you a glass of water.” She rushes for the kitchen and as quickly as I can I slide the casing from my pocket and wedge it behind the toilet tank, getting it in place just before she steps back into the bathroom.
“Thanks, babe.” I take the water, dripping sweat but it’s not from the coughing. Fuck that was close, but I managed not to blow my cover. For now.
11
SOPHIA
“W the address.”
here to miss?” the cab driver asks as I hop in the back seat. “One second. I just need to grab
From my purse, I pull the cheap prepaid phone I picked up at Target today. The VOIP I installed as per the online instructions seems to be working and I take a deep breath in and then blow it out, sending grid coordinates to Steven’s phone, making the same phone number that sent him the coordinates last night. Setting up the VOIP to mask the telephone number was well above my technical competence level, but if a woman thinks her man is up to something she’ll go Nancy Drew in a heartbeat to get to the bottom of it. I’m no exception. Not three minutes later the lights in his unit go out and not thirty seconds later his Range Rover is pulling out of the complex and onto the street. “Just follow that Range Rover, but stay back a bit so he doesn’t see us.” “I…I’m not sure I want to get involved in whatever this is.”
“Just drive,” I order, my tone leaving no room for interpretation and the taxi driver doesn’t bring it up again. Steven’s car is fast, but for some reason, he doesn’t break the speed limit. This seems o for him, knowing you don’t buy such a high performance car to drive just under the limit, especially when you’re driving alone. I follow our location on Google Maps, realizing he’s not headed to the grid coordinates I gave him. I’m far from an expert in these kinds of cat and mouse games, but I did select a transformer on the opposite end of town. It makes more sense than the warehouse where I showed up today, after sneaking a look at his phone while he was asleep last night, only to find a crime scene with full on police tape marking the place o . Why would Steven be at a crime scene where it seems no electrical personnel was needed? It doesn’t make sense. I bite down on my lower lip, trying to hold back the tears. If he’s having secret rendezvous to meet up with another woman it’s over. But why would he? He ravishes me day and night, unable to keep his hands o me. The cab driver does a good job of tailing Steven without getting made, I think. I stay slouched down in the back, looking forward as we come upon on another apartment complex. What is he doing here? “Just park on the street,” I ask the cabbie and he does as requested. Steven enters the complex and curiosity gets the best of me. “I’ll be right back.”
I dart out of the cab and slide into the complex just as the gate is closing, thankful there’s no security guard on duty. Steven enters a parking garage and disappears into the night. “Shit!” I slam the wall, realizing there’s no way I’m going to find him. I pace the courtyard, staying close to the largest tree I can find before looking up at the units, hoping to catch a glimpse of a new unit lighting up, possibly narrowing down Steven’s location. Nothing. Moving back to the gate I wait for another car to exit and then move back to the cab, plopping down in the back seat, dejected and angry. “I need you to pay now.” “Just wait another second.” I pause. “Here’s what I owe you so far.” Reaching in my purse I hand him the money and just as I do the gate swings open, a man on a motorcycle waiting to take o like he’s at one of the starting blocks of a Moto GP race. The way he sits on that motorcycle. The size of the man. His demeanor. It’s Steven. I know it. “Follow that bike,” I instruct as he takes o hell.
like a bat out of
The cab driver does as best as he can for all of five seconds until Steven disappears into the distance. I pull up the GPS coordinates I sent Steven and type them on my phone. “This is where we’re going.” I pass my phone to the driver and try and make heads or tails of what my man is up to and how he responded to the message I sent, which he thinks is from the same person who sent the message last night.
Little does he know that I’ve got a message for him if he can’t explain what this is all about. And that message, no matter how good we are together, is that we’re over if he’s up to something unsavory…which is looking a whole lot more likely by the minute.
12
SEBASTIAN
“T
hat’s irony for you.”
I bring my motorcycle to a halt as I park in front of the transformers, still wondering when the photo of the man I’m supposed to be o ng is coming through. It’s unusual to send the location and the target’s info through in separate batches, but it’s also odd to be getting two jobs back to back. I’m not complaining. This gets me one step closer to getting the money I need to quit this lifestyle. I stay parked, counting the seconds waiting for the final piece of the puzzle. There doesn’t seem to be anyone insight, which only makes this more unusual. It’s almost as if it’s a setup, but my guy would never do that to me. My phone vibrates and I pull up the message quickly, looking at the picture of…Sophia? What the? “Fuck!” I grunt. It is a setup. Someone’s got her. I made myself vulnerable for the first time in my life, making myself human when I made her mine, and now someone’s trying to make me pay.
I flick the motorcycle shield down, but just as I do someone steps out of the shadows. I draw my weapon. “Don’t shoot, Steven. It’s me.” “Sophia?” I ask as if I wouldn’t recognize the sound of her voice in a hurricane, the sight of her in a sandstorm. “Are you okay? What are you doing here?” “I have the same question for you.” She closes the distance between us, holding up a phone I’ve never seen before and at that moment I know I’ve been had. I know this is all about to come crumbling to the ground, this house of cards falling over with a single flick of a finger. “I…I got a message to come here,” I respond. “Which is why you had to stop by and change into all black clothes and take a suped-up motorcycle to get here? To work on some power lines?” “No, I…” I can’t lie to her, not any longer. “You what? You look like a hitman for Pete’s sake.” My eyes close, pinching shut as my head falls before shaking from side to side. “Wait a minute?” she asks. “Wait a fucking minute.” I muster the strength to look up at her, seeing the shock register on her face. “You are a hitman?” I nod. “Oh my, God. I need to get out of here.” “Wait!” I protest, but she takes o running. I jump o my motorcycle and my long strides eat up the blacktop beneath
us until I wrap her up from behind and lift her o ground.
the
“Let go of me!” “Never!” “Put me down or I’ll scream.” She doesn’t give me a choice, yelling at the top of her lungs before I can slide a glove o and stu it in her mouth. “Listen to me!” I put her feet down, spinning her to face me as she continues to try and wiggle away from me. “You have to hear me out.” “I don’t have to hear anything. I’ve seen enough!” she utters, spitting out my glove. “You’re a killer. You’re a murder who sneaks around in the night killing people. When did you plan on killing me, Steven? Huh?” “I’m a protector, Princess. Your protector. That’s all I ever wanted to be for you.” She shakes her head and takes a step back, slowly moving away from me until she runs toward the sky-high chain link fence keeping the public out from the electrical generators inside. “What are you doing?” I chase her down, her body turning just as she reaches the chain link fence, my body slamming into hers and we carom o the linked metal, our chests heaving. I cup her face with one hand, framing it in a strong grip before stamping my mouth down on hers. “Let me go!” she protests.
My hand drops from her jaw and I put some space between our bodies, but she leans into me, closing the space between us, her body betraying her words. “Where did you go before here?” she demands to know, trying to right the wrong that can’t be undone. “That’s where I lived before I met you. Before I rode the bus one night and saw two men attack my future wife.” “You know that because I told you that.” “Bus stop at Je erson Street and Fifth. You exited, turned right then went down an alley. At the first perpendicular alley, two guys jumped out and tried to rob you, that’s when I jumped in.” “I…I don’t believe it.” “I have your Kindle. The one you dropped in the struggle.” A moment passes and then she cocks back and slaps me across the face. I don’t even think to stop her. “You stalked me just like those men.” “I stalked you to protect you after those men tried to do what they did.” But she’s not hearing it. Her privacy has been violated and there’s no amount of logic that’s going to make what I say sound reasonable or coming from a place with good intentions. “You’re mine, Sophia. Always.” “I don’t belong to you. I don’t even know who you are. For all I know you’re name isn’t even Steven!” I lift my shirt, showing her the new ink on my oblique muscles. Sebastian + Sophia.
“Sebastian?” “It’s my real name.” “Oh my, God. Oh my, God,” she freaks out and I take hold of her, trying to calm her but it only makes things worse. “There is no real you.” “The real me loves you, wants you to be the mother of his children. Why do you think I insist we don’t use condoms? Why do you think I’m still doing this job? So I can get enough money so I can quit and we can go live somewhere quiet.” “How can I know that’s true?” “You know it because you know me, despite what you’re feeling and seeing right now.” “And you expect me to believe that?” “I know you believe it,” I plead, but my words don’t make it through. My lies have finally caught up with me and I can’t outrun them anymore. I’m nothing more than a crazy man who’s scaring the shit out of her right now, and there’s nothing I can do or say at this moment to change it. As much as it kills me I have to take a step back and let her do what she needs to do, to give her space. It has to be her decision to be with me, not my decision based on deceit to be what it is that I think she wants, what she needs. “I don’t know what to believe.” “I’m going to step away and give you time to figure it out for yourself. I won’t come after you. I promise. But first, just let me show you one more time. Just let me remind you what
it’s like when we’re together, how perfectly we fit like two puzzle pieces snapping into place.” “No,” she snaps. I give her body more space, running my hand down the side of her arm. She surprises me, leaning into my touch. A light pitter-patter of rain starts to fall as our jagged breaths fog up the night. I move in closer, pinning her to the fence and putting my hands above her as if to protect her from the rain, yet what I’m doing makes no sense. Nor does her reaction. Coming up on her tiptoes, she runs her lips over my jaw, snapping at my chin as I lean down, our noses brushing against one another before our lips lock. My fingers curl into hers, taking her as my hips box her in. She jumps, throwing her legs around me and I release her hands, weaving a hand in her hair and cupping her sex with the other. “Fuck I need you,” I moan, sliding a finger inside her panty line and inside her drenched channel. “I need you always. Can’t ever get enough,” I grunt the truth. “That’s why I’ll never be able to stop watching you from the shadows, no matter what.” Her pupils dilate but before she can reply I yank down my pants, freeing my cock, and place her feet on the ground, yanking her pants down and spinning her around so she’s facing the fence, hands grabbing onto the wet metal. Lining my cock up with her hole I push forward, claiming her one last time. “Oh fuck,” she whimpers. “You’ll never live without Daddy’s cock, Little Girl. I don’t even know why you pretend.”
She looks back over her shoulder and I squeeze her lips shut before sliding a finger past her lips as I continue claiming her from behind, fucking her harder and harder and harder making sure she knows who this pussy belongs to. Always. “Steven,” she whimpers. “I mean…Sebastian.” “I thought we settled on something else,” I growl into her neck. “Daddy.” The word sends me over the edge and I go for broke, yanking her hair for leverage as my hips piston over and over and over again. Her body jerks, going up on tiptoes, and then she spasms, her pussy unloading on me and sending me to my release, in turn, my rod tossing hot white ropes inside her, each and every last seed searching for her womb, making sure to bond her to me forever no matter the outcome after tonight. Just as quickly as we started, we stop. I lean forward into the fence, trying to catch my breath. She buttons up her pants and takes o running, her legs like a baby deer trying to stand for the first time, her body damn near boneless after the final fucking I just gave her. I sink down along the fence, turning my body so my back rests against the base as my ass finds the ground. She looks over her shoulder, watching me as if she’s expecting me to come after her. And do I ever want to. But I just gave her everything I’ve got, and before that all I gave her was lies. If she truly loves me, she’ll find me. I won’t make it di cult. I’ll be by her always. Even if she doesn’t see me in the shadows. Even if she doesn’t hear the
twig crack. Even if she doesn’t smell me. I’ll be there, watching over her and keeping her safe. Because when I said she was mine for life, that’s exactly what I meant…whether she wants it or not.
13
SOPHIA
A
week later
The teacher dismisses the class and I gather my books, my head down as I make my way to the bus stop. There won’t be any fancy dinners this evening. There won’t even be a car to get me home, despite Sebastian sneaking by the apartment complex and making repairs on it during the night this week. I decided to sell it for what little cash it was worth. I couldn’t resist when an anonymous buyer o ered to pay double the Kelley Blue Book value. Better to get something before she sputters out and dies on me one day. Speaking of dying, that’s how I feel inside. There’s a hole in my heart that Sebastian used to fill. Now it’s just a void, although I know he’s still out there watching over me. Heck, he even spray painted ‘Property of Sebastian’ outside my balcony. The complex administration and I still can’t figure out how he hung up there to do it, but that’s Sebastian. He’s all or nothing, and from what I’ve seen so far he always finds a way. It’s got to be a pretty big deal for a hitman to write his real name on a wall, not that anyone in the area knows he’s a
hitman. Only me. I’m the only one he trusted with his secret, but it came after his lies. That pretty much negates it…right? As I step outside the college building I reach inside my book bag and pull out the pepper spray canister that came in the mail. A gift from an anonymous person, although it’s hard to think of Sebastian as anonymous. Even when he’s wrong, he makes his presence felt in a big way. I look at the time on my phone, hustling toward the station so I’m not late. “Hey, Sophia,” a voice calls out. I look back over my shoulder to see a boy my age chasing after me. I recognize him from my class. He’s awkward in his approach and sophomoric in just about all ways. He’s big though, a man child so to speak. I just wish it was a real man chasing after me, the one I secretly hoped would follow me in the rain that night a week ago. “Hey,” I o er, keeping my pace. “Why you walking so fast? The bus isn’t here for five more minutes,” he questions, now in stride with me. “Who said I’m taking the bus?” “I’ve seen you taking it before.” I shake my head, not afraid of this boy but realizing stalkers can come in a lot of forms these days, even when they don’t even know what they’re doing. “Must have been someone who looked like me.” “No, you’re Sophia. You’re in my class. Hey,” he continues without coming up for air. “I was thinking we could go out for a co ee and study for the next exam together.”
A twig snaps o in the distance and I stop. Nothing. I start again and don’t hear anyone following us, but I know he’s there. “I can’t. Maybe some other time. I gotta run, my boyfriend’s picking me up.” I take o faster and luckily this time the boy gets the hint. Suddenly I hear a loud thud and I walk in a circle, trying to sneak back to where we just were. The campus is one of the most beautiful in the state, with lots of trees which mean there are plenty of hiding places for the well-versed… assassin. Moving back to the scene of the crime I duck behind a tree, my fingertips clawing at a strip of bark as I carefully look out from behind the thick oak. There on his back is the boy from my class, and on top of him is Sebastian. His eyes are boring into him and the boy is shaking so hard he looks like he’s about to come apart at the seams. Sebastian has the boy’s book pressed to his throat, looking like coiled metal primed to strike like a cobra. If I thought I was going to walk away from Sebastian I was sorely mistaken. I know he’s been guarding me, little items left outside my room in the morning when I leave for the day. He’s sitting there, watching over me, even though the cameras he installed for me don’t pick up his presence. Two nights ago I passed out in bed without remembering my blanket or shutting the windows. A storm rolled in later and when I woke up in the morning a blanket was tucked under my chin and my balcony shut tight.
“Listen to me, son, and listen good,” he begins, growling at the boy who plays football for our college. He might be physically as big as Sebastian, but he doesn’t have that quiet confidence, that muscle density, that experienced way about him that the man who protects me, watches over me, and loves me does. Loves me. Sebastian does, more than anyone ever has in my life. There’s no denying it, nor would I even want to. “You come to this college to get an education and to play football. How do I know? Because I know everything about everyone at this fucking university. It’s my job because Sophia goes here. My Sophia. Not yours.” “Calm down, sir. We can talk about this like adults.” “Oh, I’m very calm young man. This is absolutely me being calm,” he antagonizes, baring his teeth and spittle forming at the corners of his lips. “And I’ll be the one who does the talking and you just lie there and listen. Understand?” The boy nods and at that moment I hear the sound of him relieving himself in his pants, the acrid scent cutting through the air. Oh. My. God. “Now, like I was saying,” Sebastian continues, leaning more of his weight on the book on my classmate’s neck, his eyes bulging. “No one is good enough for Sophia Smith. Not me and sure enough not you or some other little college brat trying to get his dick wet this weekend. If that’s what you’re after download Tinder or whatever other apps you kids use these days and fuck all the girls who will have you. See if I care.” He pauses, grumbling. “Kids trading sex all the damn time then don’t know how to pair bond and actually work through di culties in a relationship later in life when the time comes. Not my problem though.”
“What’s that, sir?” “What this is is me telling you one time and one time only. Do not talk to Sophia Smith. Do not look at her. Do not even think about her, daydream about her, wonder anything about her. Erase her from your mind. And if I find out you haven’t I’m going to track you down son. And that mess you just made in your pants right now? Next time I’ll come to your house, tie you up, make you piss yourself all over again, shit yourself too. Then I’ll just leave you hanging there stewing in your own fear while I take pictures of you and post them on the NFL combine website. That won’t help your draft position, will it? “No, sir.” “Have I made myself clear?” “Yes, sir,” he grits out, his face turning a scary shade of purple and finally Sebastian relents. “Remember, son. This is our little secret. You keep it that way or you’re going to get a visit in the night that you’re illprepared for.” He nods. Sebastian gets to his feet and casually walks away as if he’s just paid for a co ee at a diner and now he’s going about his evening. I trail him, following him for a good thirty seconds until his pace is too hard to keep up with. Losing sight of him I move faster and then suddenly something darts out from behind me, wrapping me up and lifting me o the ground. “Who’s the stalker now?” he laughs into my ear.
“Let go of me,” I protest. “I’ll scream for help.” “I’m absolutely sure that boy won’t be coming to help you.” A moment passes and I can’t help but burst out laughing. “Put me down you big lug.” “I’ll put you down when I get you home. Our home.” “Says who?” “Daddy knows best.” “You can’t make that decision until we have a chance to talk first.” “You’re absolutely right. I do have something to tell you first.” Sebastian carefully places me on my feet in the grass, taking a knee as he pulls a small, black, velvet box from his pocket. He flicks the top back and inside is an absolutely huge princess cut diamond engagement ring. My hands move to my face, but they’re shaking so hard I’m practically punching myself in excitement. Helping me pull myself together, Sebastian reaches for my left hand, bringing the ring to the tip of my finger. “Baby Girl, what we have isn’t traditional. Heck, it’s probably not even legal. But what it is is hot, completely encompassing, and infatuating. It’s us. I knew you were mine since the moment I laid eyes on you and I was ready and willing to find out what makes you tick and then give you those things on a silver platter. That’s how devoted I was to making you mine at all costs. Now I have to know if I’m yours too if you accept my crazy and agree to let me run
wild, surprising you each and every day for the rest of our lives. Be mine. Will you marry me?” Everything is happening so fast, but that’s only because the last week went by so slowly, at a death crawl. Without Sebastian time just seems to stand still. The only redeeming part of his absence these past seven days was I knew he was out there, close, but I can’t simply have him close. I need him by my side, proudly in my life…protecting me with his own breed of crazy, because I’ve come to realize I’m just as crazy about him too. “Yes!” I yell out. “Yes, yes, yes!” He slides the ring on my finger and lifts me up in the air, spinning me in a circle and kissing me possessively on the mouth. “Take me home,” I demand. “I already am home,” he says. “Because home is wherever you are and I’ve got you, baby.” “I love you.” “I love you.”
EPILOGUE
SEBASTIAN
F
our years later
“Denied by another one,” my wife says, putting her head in her hands as she places the letter on the table. “Why won’t any of the preschools accept Simon?” “It’s okay,” I console, putting my arm around her. “But I really wanted this one. This is the best preschool and I thought for sure he’d get in. I just don’t understand why they’re not accepting him unless they’re profiling us.” “No, they wouldn’t do that,” I lie between my teeth, knowing it’s hard for a tatted up ex-hitman like myself to prove where I got all my money from. “I’m going to lie down for a minute. I’ll be fine after a nap,” she says, sni ing. I carry her to the bedroom and place her on the bed, tucking her in, and then turn on a heel and quietly leave the house. I pull up the principal’s information on my phone and beeline it on my motorcycle right over to his house. And there he is, like a good little yuppie trimming his front hedges.
Parking my bike I storm right at him, but the dumb shit has on wireless earbuds and he doesn’t hear or see me coming until the last second when his body jerks backward. “Whoa. Hey. This is private property, you can’t just—“ I grab him by the throat and squeeze, the hedge clippers falling from his grasp. “And you’re fucking with people’s private lives. You can’t just deny our son admission to your little high and mighty preschool.” “We…we have an admissions process all applicants go through,” he coughs out, his skin turning purple. “And I’m sure the principal has the final say-so so you’re going to go to your little computer and pull up the record for Simon Street and admit him…or I’m going to keep strangling you until there’s no more air left in your lungs. Understand?” “Honey, everything okay out there?” his wife calls. “Guy talk. We’ll be done in a minute,” I answer for him. His wife wisely tucks back inside the house, hiding behind a curtain as I release the principal. He falls to the ground, his hands wringing at his neck. “I’m calling the cops.” “Don’t be foolish,” I step over the top of him so he can’t get up. “You call the cops the only thing they’ll be investigating is a dead principal’s body. Nobody knows I was even here except you and your wife, and judging by your wife’s actions she’s a lot smarter than you are. She’ll just sit back and collect your pension and whatever wrongful death check she gets and by this time next week she’ll be fucking the pool boy in the house you worked your whole life to pay for. How does that sound to you?”
He says nothing, squirming back on his elbows but I take a step with him, keeping him boxed in. “Or you can do what I ask and this all goes away.” I put the heel of my boot between his legs and bring down the ball of my foot to right above his balls, making contact with his salmon pink shorts. “So, whaddya say?” “The school’s not open until Monday.” “I’m sure the janitor will let you in.” I grab him by the scru of the neck and throw him over my lap, riding straight to the school where we take care of our little problem. Then I force him, on school letterhead, to issue an apology at the admission system’s oversight and announce that the school is pleased to welcome Simon as a new student, e ective immediately. And with that I toss him in a dumpster out front of the school, close the lid and go to the post o ce to get a stamp on my correction letter, which the clerk wisely agrees to. “Look at this, honey,” I announce when I come through the door. “Looks like we got another letter in the mail. Must have been wedged on the side and I missed it the first time.” My wife snatches it and looks at the seal on the envelope. “We already know their answer. They probably just sent a duplicate.” “Can’t hurt to open it up.” Sophia exhales and reluctantly does just that, the dejection on her face turning to joy as she reads it. “What’s it say?” I feign ignorance.
“They made a mistake. He’s been accepted!” “Well, how about that.” My wife jumps in my arms and just then our little guy comes running around the corner. “Did I get in, Mommy?” “You sure did, Honey.” She slides from my arms and wraps him up in a big hug. “You’re going to the best preschool in town.” “How long is their recess?” he asks, and we both laugh. “As long as you want,” I confirm. “I’ll make sure of it. I… have a direct line to the principal.” Sophia puts her hands on her hips, the letter still in her grasp as her eyes narrow and she turns to look at me. “You didn’t?” “What?” I ask, moving to the kitchen and grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl. “You know what.” “A man looks out for his family. It’s what makes a man a man, by definition.” “You roughed up the principal of Simon’s new school? Now all the students are going to talk about Simon’s dad being some sort of reincarnation of Tony Soprano.” “Tony Soprano wasn’t so bad in my book. He got a lot done and his family lived a pretty darn good life.” Sophia exhales and the rising anger is replaced with a smile. “You know what…you’re right. I just need to remember that when I order beef at the butcher I should just accept it, not
ask him where it comes from or how it’s made.” I don’t nod because I don’t need to, although that’s one hell of an analogy. “Ready to make some new friends, Buddy?” I ask my son, running my hand through his mop of hair? “Yeah, dad. I can’t wait.” “Me either.” I pause. “It’s been a big day. How about we all go for ice cream.” “You don’t eat sweets?” Sophia asks. “But you do, and so does Simon, and that’s all that matters.” Sophia wraps me up in a full body hug and Simon clings to my leg. It’s true. Whether you’re a Daddy or a father figure or any kind of paternal man in a family, it’s all the same. The true man of the house gets his happiness from making his family happy, and with Simon and my wife beaming at the news that Simon’s accepted to the preschool they both wanted, I couldn’t be happier my damn self. Personally, I thought the boy could have used another year at home with his pops, fishing, learning to read, and going for hikes. But if he wants to go to preschool that’s what dad’s going to do for him. Because dad’s happiness starts and ends with making his family happy…first, last, and always. “Thank you, Daddy,” Simon says. “Thank you, Daddy,” Sophia mischievously whispers into my ear. “Thank you…family.”
EXTENDED EPILOGUE
SOPHIA
T
en years later
“Sebastian? Is that you?” I straighten up my back and look o into the distance, but it’s pitch black by our campsite and there’s no reply. “Louis?” I look and see our trusty ‘guard dog’ is passed out in a pile of leaves. I dump a bucket of water on the fire and reach for the tray of s’mores that the kids devoured. Immediately I feel the sticky marshmallows on my skin and I sigh, knowing I need to walk to the stream to clean up my hands before bed. A branch snaps in the distance. “Sebastian, it’s not funny. I know you’re out there,” I call out, but I’m not one hundred percent sure. This was all part of our game, randomly appearing at some point. The only question is when. We spun it to the kids that dad had to go investigate a horse riding trip which is why he wouldn’t be with us the first day. Realistically mommy and daddy have to get their fix, and this is one of the best ways for us to do it.
Walking back by the tents one last time I peek inside and see that all five of our kids…Simon, Scarlett, Samuel, Sienna, and Summer are fast asleep. Running down to the stream and back shouldn’t take more than a full minute, so I high-tail it. But I’m clearly not alone. My legs move in short jerky movements as I rub the back of my neck, biting at my lip and jumping when I hear an owl in the distance. My breaths are quick, ragged and there’s a cold sweat trailing down my back. Once at the stream I bend over and rinse my hands o , standing up quickly and readying myself to make it back to camp. I never had a chance. A big pair of hands wrap around me, quickly roping my wrists and dragging my body to a tree. “Let go of me!” I scream, but a big hand covers my mouth before I can fully yell the words. The rope wraps around my body, securing me to a tree, and only then does my captor step out from behind me, revealing himself to look like something out of Rambo, covered in war paint and all. “I’ve been watching you all day, Little Girl. Tracking you. Hunting you. Stalking you. I can’t watch anymore. It’s time to take,” my husband says moving closer to me as he palms my breasts. “Leave me alone. I’ll give you anything you want,” I pretend, forcing tears down my cheeks when in reality I’m so turned on I could almost climax already.
“Oh, you’ll give me what I want all right.” He grabs my pants and rips them open, the button popping as he jerks the denim down to mid-thigh as he drops to my knees and begins licking my pussy up and down. And there’s not a thing I can do about it. Something about being captured, and restrained, is so damn hot, and I feel the wall of water inside me cresting. Before I can stop it I unload on his face, transforming him into even more of an animal. Jumping to his feet he opens his belt and frees his cock, lining it up with my entrance and ramming it into my wet channel. “Should have tied you up the other way so I could take that ass instead. That will come later.” His hands wrap around the tree for leverage as his hips piston into me, filling me with his thick inches as I writhe against the bark behind me, the pain mixing with the pleasure and it sets me o a second time. The second I come he explodes inside me, his body making disjointed movements before he finally leans in and kisses me on the forehead. “Damn, that was hot,” I confess breathlessly. “I’m not done with you yet.” “We have to get back. The kids.” A light goes o inside his head and any resistance he was about to throw my way vanishes. When it comes to my protection and keeping the kids safe there’s nothing more important.
He quickly unties me and then squats down and gives me a piggyback ride back to camp. “You can put me down if I’m too heavy.” “Don’t be foolish.” “You don’t be foolish. Come on. Five kids later and I’m not the same little girl I once was.” Sebastian stops dead in his tracks, looking back over his shoulder. “You’ll always be my little girl. Period.” A smile tugs at the corners of my lips and after a beat passes he starts walking again, seemingly satisfied that I’m not going to argue anymore. How could I? The man has eyes for me and only me. He’s still hot for me after a decade, stalking me in the forest at night and savagely taking me after tying me to a tree. And all this after five incredible children. Children he keeps tabs on every second of every day whether they know it or not. But he does, and that’s all that matters. Because my man, my stalker isn’t the one with the problem. The only people potentially with the problems are the ones who come between him and what belongs to him. Us. And he’s got his eyes on us…always. “I love you, Daddy.” “I love you, Princess.”
ALSO BY LENA LITTLE
Yes Daddy Series Book 1: Daddy Next Door Book 2: Bossy Daddy Book 3: Paying Daddy’s Debt Book 4: Daddy’s Halloween Book 5: Daddy’s Italian Friend Book 6: Russian Teacher Book 7: Daddy’s Housekeeper Book 8: Possessive Daddy Book 9: Protective Daddy Book 10: Daddy’s Destiny Book 11: Dear Daddy Book 12: Russian Doctor Daddy Book 13: Daddy’s Christmas Book 14: Italian Mafia Stalker Book 15: Daddy’s Friend Book 16: Possessive Policeman Book 17: The Debt Collector Book 18: Her Hitman Book 19: The Goalie’s Girl Book 20: Hitman’s Target Book 21: Daddy’s Secret A Possessive Man Series Book 1: Jealous Book 2: Possessive
Book 3: Stalker (this book)