I’m in a TEASING MOOD!
JEALOUS STALKER (AN AMAZON BESTSELLER)
I prop my phone up on the corner of my desk, facing the bed. Angle it just right.
It’s not much. Certainly no night vision or infrared, but it records in full HD, and I figure if he’s bold enough to come close, he won’t know it’s on.
Or maybe he will.
That’s the part I don’t want to think about.
I tie the string to my wrist. Turn off the lamp. I grab my Kindle and read two chapters of heroes who snatch their women out of their beds and ravish them without consent until I’m damp between my legs. Then I switch to boring documentaries that have me drowsy in minutes.
After my third yawn, I press record on my phone and shut my eyes, ready to either pretend to sleep or fall asleep for real.
I’m surprised it’s the latter.
And the next thing I know, the sun creeps through the blinds and I wake up slowly, like surfacing from something deep.
Dammit, I fall asleep. My bedroom door is open, which means I went sleepwalking at some point?—
My heart stops in my throat when I reach for my phone… and it’s not there. At least not where I left it.
It’s beside me.
On my pillow.
Okay, don’t panic. Don’t get excited. Maybe I reached for it during my sleepwalking.
Except the screen is dark. Didn’t Dr. Greene mention something about it being impossible to do things like text or make calls during sleepwalking episodes?
To my knowledge I’ve never touched my phone at any time during my episodes.
Mouth dry, I reach for it with shaking fingers and hit play.
At first, there’s nothing. Just the faint rustle of sheets. My breathing. The soft tick of the clock.
Then… movement.
A shift in shadow. A figure too careful to fully enter the frame. It… he— because the figure that fills the frame is huge, and most definitely male —stays just out of view. Just enough to drive me mad.
But then?—
His gloved hand enters the shot.
Large. Thick. Steady.
He picks up the phone.
Brings it close to his chest. Then to his face. A face covered in shadow but with hints of a strong jaw. Yup, definitely male.
Oh God.
And he just… breathes.
One full minute.
No words. No sounds but that deep, low drag of breath against the mic. Inhale. Exhale.
Like he’s memorizing the weight of it.
Like he’s smelling me.
Like he’s fighting not to say something—because if he does, it’ll be over.
I sit there watching it with my thighs pressed together, pulse thudding between my legs, stinging and plumping my clit. Wetness formed of panic curling at the edge of pleasure.
When the minute ends, he doesn’t put the phone back where it was.
He places it. Soft. Reverent. On my pillow.
The screen goes black. And that’s it.
I stare down at the phone, breath panting.
I should be screaming. Calling someone. Running.
Someone broke into my house. Has been breaking in for weeks, maybe months now. Watching me sleep? Breathing me in? God, touching me?
But I press the back of my hand to my mouth and feel a soft, sinful ache in the pit of my stomach.
He was here.
He knew I set a trap.
And he gave me just enough to make sure I never stop wanting more.
Because even before I take my next breath, I’m hitting play again.
STAKING HIS CLAIM
“I didn’t know you wore glasses,” I murmured, his avid scrutiny making my skin heat all over again.
I was beginning to wonder whether I would ever get used to Fletcher’s singular focus when it came to how he watched me. Not that I was complaining.
He plucked off the glasses with his free hand and smiled. “I don’t usually but sometimes eyestrain is a bitch I have to endure. How do you feel?”
I stretched and slid out of bed.
Fletcher’s eyes caught fire as I padded over to him butt naked. When he eagerly patted his thigh, I settled in place, my arms draping around his neck.
“I feel great. Very rested.” Not entirely true.
My internal muscles were hella sore and the last few orgasms had bordered on painful, all but wrecking me. But no way was I denying myself a chance to be close to Fletcher. That was what aloe vera and warm baths were for.
Besides, Monday was racing toward us at warp speed. There were several cases that needed Fletcher’s attention and after taking the rare day and a half off, I doubted he would come up for air the second he stepped into his office. I had to take my chances where I could.
“Are you’re in the mood to play, baby?”
My head bobbing, I kissed along his jaw and whispered in his ear, “I’ve always wanted to act out a stern professor, naughty student fantasy.”
His breath hissed out and his cock twitched. “Fuck, Emily.”
The book he was holding tumbled to the floor and I saw the cover.
JEALOUS CONVINCT
“You want this, sweet girl. You sure?” I snatch at sanity one last time.
Perhaps she senses my weakening or the commotion outside is spurring her on. But she nods harder. “More than anything,” she moans.
“Okay, baby, then let’s get a few things straight. First, I’m not a normal guy, kitty. One-night stands have never been my thing, never mind one-time fucks in prison.”
“I…why?” she asks, eyes wide and curious despite the chaos hurtling toward us.
“I’m just not wired that way. I prefer a sexual encounter to mean something, not just a way to get my rocks off.
And just because I haven’t fucked a woman in years doesn’t mean I’m going to change that now.
Which means that if I take you, you’ll belong to me for the rest of your life.
If you think I won’t be able to do anything about it because I’m behind bars, think again, little girl.
There’s nowhere on earth you can hide from me.
Nowhere I wouldn’t find you and claim what’s mine.
Think very carefully, princess. Are you ready for that? ”
To her credit, she doesn’t fall victim to the volatile situation and her horny state and jump into a yes .
She studies me for a full minute, probably judging whether I mean what I’m saying. A few more tremors run through her when she sees the surefire intent in my eyes.
Then her eyes fall to my lips and she slowly licks hers.
Sweet Jesus fuck.
And then… “Yes. I am.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, because holy shit, she just doesn’t know what she’s gotten herself into. I drop my forehead to hers, breathe in her exhales like my life depends on it.
“You’ve sealed your fate, Kitty. Your father did good.
He raised a caring, clever, sweet girl. But it’s my turn now.
My turn to care and provide, to make sure you don’t have a single need that goes unmet.
I’m in charge now, little girl. From this second on, I’m.
Your. Daddy. Say it, baby. Say it out loud so we both know it’s set in stone. ”
Wide eyes blink at me. Then, “You’re my…my…d-daddy,” she whispers.
“Again. With conviction,” I growl against her mouth.
“You’re my daddy.”
“Again!”
“Daddy! You’re my daddy!”
THE FELON’S HONEY
He sees my eyes flicker to the front door and he sighs.
“I can leave if you want me to, sweetheart. But I won’t hit the end of the block before I turn around and come back.”
“W-why?” Some weird excitement makes my voice shake.
“Because it’s been a long time since I’ve seen anything as gorgeous as you. And now I’ve seen you, looked into those pretty eyes and felt how fucking soft your skin is, not even a nuclear catastrophe can keep me away.”
Oh crap. Those words… I fight another shudder and shake my head. “I…I thought you were here for my Dad?”
His jaw tightens and his eyes go bleak for a moment before he snaps out of it. “I was. I am. And I’ll get to him eventually when he returns. I’ve waited long enough. A couple more days won’t make a difference. But this…”
He takes a deep breath and his massive chest moves in a way that holds all my attention before his words refocus me again.
“You’re a gem I never expected to find. And only a goddamn fool throws an opportunity like this away.
” He surges forward again; one arm braces the wall above my head and he fills every corner of my vision.
All without touching me. “You have two options, honey. You can tell me to leave or you can put those hands down so I can take a proper look at what’s mine. ”
My belly flutters like a thousand hummingbirds are trying to escape. “Y-yours?”
“Mine,” he echoes, his eyes darkening as he leans even closer into the crook of my neck, takes a long, greedy sniff. “Jesus, you smell amazing.”
He swallows hard and I sense movement below. I look down to see him adjusting himself through his jeans, a tight grimace stretching across his face.
When his hand drops, I gasp. The bulge behind his fly has grown even bigger. Terrifyingly so.
I’ve touched myself in the shower, have even explored myself a little under the covers. During my most daring explorations, my middle finger could barely fit the snug channel.
What he’s packing is eye-watering, crazy big.
“Last chance, honey.” His voice is a strained mess, the corded muscles in his neck standing out.
He’s hanging on by a thread and the thought that I’m responsible for his shredding control is a heady feeling for a girl who’s been overlooked and felt powerless her whole life.
“Please,” he rasps heatedly into my ear.
I feel as if I’m outside of myself looking down.
I see us, my tiny five-five frame and my thigh-skimming pink tee with Nope, Not Today emblazoned across the front, and my sleep-tousled blonde hair tumbling over my face and shoulders.
And I see him, the gorgeous, disgruntled giant with thick muscles to spare, leaning over me, barely restrained, his hot eyes riveted to my body, demanding wicked things I’m dying to give him.
THE KINGPIN’S ANGEL
I hold out my hand.
She hesitates, sending me that wide-eyed look. I’m at once impressed by her caution and pissed off that she’s not submitting to me.
Doesn’t she know she’s mine?
“I…I don’t even know your name,” she breathes shyly.
I hesitate a fraction of a second, already regretting the half-truth. “I’m Matt.”
A nervous smile twitches her lips and she holds out her hand. “Hi Matt. I’m A—” She hastily catches herself. Then, “Maria.”
Ah. My regret dissipates beneath her own lie.
Although I get why she’s being careful, I’m still pissed.
I don’t want her to bellow someone else’s name when I’m balls deep inside her. But since I don’t have a choice and can’t reveal myself, I take the hand she holds out and grip it in mine, not even bothering with the courtesy of shaking it.
Because …Matri di Diu , she’s so fucking soft it takes a lot to swallow my groan.
But when I try to steer her from the door toward where I’m parked, she tugs at my hand. “Wait.”
My gut tightens and I stop. She better not be looking for an excuse to go back inside.
“What is it?” I reply, attempting to keep the bite out of my voice.
She tilts her face to mine and I want to howl at the perfection of her features.
Skin as smooth as porcelain.
An over-full, juicy lower lip that more than compensates for the thinner upper.
I need very little imagination to picture my dick sliding between those lips, sucking me off until I’m draining myself down her throat and those lips are ruby red from her wonderful efforts.
And fuck me, those deep blue eyes…
They sparkle bright enough to make me forget my own damn name. No wonder every guy in this pisshole was salivating over her.
I’d had no choice but to take care of a couple of them the last few nights when they got too close.
Somewhere in this city there are two people sporting broken bones they hadn’t accounted for when they left home that morning, and I have zero regrets about either.
“Where we’re going? Do I need to change?”
It’s all the excuse I need for my eyes to eat her up once more.
Christ .
She has the innocence of a Disney Princess and the body of a 1950’s pin-up, and the combination is scrambling my brain. And despite the gaudy sequins, her beauty shines like a damned beacon.
“You can wear whatever the fuck you want, angel. Anyone has a problem with it, they can answer to me.”