Chapter 7
SEVEN
Dove
I hate Reid.
He’s so infuriating all the time.
He knew what he was doing today; from the invitation to the way his breath made my body come alive, every move was calculated.
Whenever I realized that the Mount Leaf had been sold, I came out of my fog. The whole reason I was going to give into Reid’s attempt to see me was because I’ve been dying to own a Myles Tagin piece. They’re impossible to get.
That’s when I realized I have to play his game to get what I want.
I will torture him with just tidbits of my upcoming plans without revealing all of them. If he doesn’t know where I am, he’ll go crazy.
It’s only been days, and I know this to be true. My stalker is all secrets, lies, and obsessions, a diabolical combination for me to even entertain.
Something has to be wrong with me because as much as I want to deny it, the truth is that I do like the way Reid looks and acts with me. As obsessed as he seems to be, I crave his attention.
As soon as I start to want him, I have to remind myself of how sick it is. Reid Samuels is a madman. No one normal actually behaves this way. It’s not just his behavior that I’m questioning; it’s mine as well.
No one should want to be watched by someone like this.
If this afternoon was any indication of what it’s like between us, then I’m glad I got out of there as quickly as I did and on the road. I could tell Reid didn’t believe I really had to leave so soon, but this time, I did.
I’m not going to wait around to see if Reid slinks into my home tonight, even though I really want to. My need to know that I have him in my control is one of the reasons I am leaving today instead of tomorrow.
Truthfully, it should be really creepy; I know it should be. That just doesn’t seem to matter to my heart, no matter how many times I try to convince myself.
The root of the problem is that I do feel this connection with Reid, even though I know I shouldn’t. For the next several hours, I can torture myself with thoughts of how complicated my feelings are for Reid.
I start to strum my fingers on the steering wheel to the new song that’s come on. Keeping my fingers busy seems to be one of the only ways I can actually distract myself.
The song that just came on is a catchy new one by a band I recently discovered, Wagon Chain. It’s a mixture of country and indie vibes, perfect for this time of year. Turning up the volume, I start to sing along to it and tap my fingers to the beat.
Song after song comes on, and I start to feel more alive than I did at the start of the drive. My hotel room is going to feel like a dream by the time I get there. Although I prefer the seclusion of my mountain escape, I do love the perks of staying in a nice hotel periodically. I usually only do when I’m traveling for work.
A bubble bath has my name on it as soon as I arrive.
The next song comes on, and I’m glad I decided to only listen to this new album by Wagon Chain. It’s perked me right up and made me stop thinking about Reid.
In my hotel room, I turn on the bath immediately and start stripping out of my dress. Even though I was trying to flee from Reid, I went back home and packed my bag quickly. At the time, I thought driving in the dress would be fine. I should have known better.
I’m just glad that I’m here, and it’s not too late at night. I still have time to order dinner to my hotel room, take my bath, and pretend like I’m my old self again.
My instincts could be wrong about how Reid will act when I’m not there tonight, but I don’t think they are. I imagine the way he opens my bedroom door and the frustration he feels that I’m not sleeping in my bed.
I pour bubbles into the bath and wait for it to fill even higher. As I do, I grab my cell phone off the nearby desk to finally check in. I’ll wait to do emails until tomorrow. For now, I’ll scroll as I wait.
My phone lights up, and I see a few missed notifications. I keep it on silent because I really don’t want to have a conversation on the phone if I can avoid it.
My fingers pause from scrolling over one particular notification.
A new text message from an unknown number was sent not too long ago.
Unknown:
Careful, little bird.
I hover over it, debating what to say or if I even should reply.
Immediately, my mind starts to wander as to how he got my cell phone number, but Reid is resourceful. I’m sure it took him minutes to find my private number online, or I wouldn’t put it past him to just take it out of Jill’s phone.
Careful .
He can tell me to be careful all he wants, but he’s the one who needs to be. I’m living my life as I do, as a single person should. I don’t owe it to him to tell him where I am.
Grabbing my water bottle, I walk over to the bathtub, set the water and cell phone on the edge of the tub, and then turn off the water faucet.
After testing the warmth, I slowly sink into the tub. My hair is piled in a high messy bun to avoid getting wet, but the rest of me is relishing being encased by the water.
My phone lights up.
I reach over and grab it, only to see it’s him again.
Of course Reid is managing to disturb my peaceful bath.
Unknown:
Flying away again.
I scoff.
I am not his little bird .
Setting it back down and closing my eyes, I debate if I should reply. He’s ruining my only time of relaxation. I sigh loudly and let my chest sink further into the water. Still annoyed, I decide to give him a quick text back to leave me alone.
Picking up my cell phone, I send him the only message I want to relay so I can get back to my bath time.
Go away, Reid.
Little dots automatically appear and then stop. It does this a few times. Good, I’m glad he’s unsure what to say back.
Where did you fly away to?
It’s none of your business.
We both know that’s a lie.
Another one to add to your pile.
My pile of lies?
Yes.
Tell me.
No.
Tell me where you are.
Have a good night with your fiancée.
Little bird, I’ll find you.
No, you won’t.
Don’t forget the rules of the game.
My body shivers as I take it in. I do remember his rules from that night. My body trembles in need, wishing I could have his hands all over me.
I should find this interaction disturbing, but all it does is make me feel needy.
My free hand starts to lightly caress my collarbone and chest area as I think of how to respond. That’s when I get the perfect idea.
I set the phone down again and hop out of the bathtub. Rummaging through my nearby suitcase, I take out my favorite vibrator, which I hate to admit I’ve been using one too many times, thinking about Reid.
Back in the tub, I turn the vibrator on and sink it beneath the water. I find the spot between my legs and start to rub it slowly back and forth. My phone lights up, no doubt another text from Reid.
I will find you.
The bubbles from the bath are still mostly covering my body, with some fading away to show parts of my skin, but my private parts are completely covered. I spread my legs wide so it’s clear that I’m masturbating and position the camera higher above me to take a photo. My face won’t be in it, but it’ll be clear as day that it’s me in the hotel room bathtub.
I snap a few and continue to rub the device against my folds. My body is lighting on fire just thinking about the desire I’m about to ignite in Reid.
I look through the photos briefly and settle on one where my breasts are almost out of the bubbles, and you can see parts of my stomach through the water.
I’m not interested in playing your games. I’m preoccupied. Go away.
I send him the text with the picture and then set my phone down again. It’s all too much, and I rub my vibrator harder against me as I picture Reid stroking his cock to my picture. I know he has corded arms and is pure muscle underneath those clothes, something I want to see for myself.
I have no doubt that his cock is thick and long, big enough to actually make me nervous if we do ever have sex.
My phone light flashes repeatedly, but I don’t look. I’m going to torture him for what he’s been doing to me. I continue to tease my clit, and the more my phone lights up, the closer I am to coming.
Back and forth I move it and finally hit the right spot. As I come, my body ignites with desire, and I feel like it’s awakening once more. My toes curl as I stretch back before coming down from my high.
I pant in the bathtub and realize the bubbles have disappeared and the water has become lukewarm. Brushing loose strands of my hair back, I decide it’s time to get out.
After drying off and putting on a set of pajamas, I finally look through my cell phone to see what Reid said.
Dove.
Dove.
Dove.
Answer me.
You’re mine, little bird. All mine.
You thought you knew the monster within, but I’m just getting started.
My body quivers as I soak in his words. Everything this man does and says should be a red flag, but all it does is pull me in even more.
My trip to the coast was successful. Yesterday, I was able to capture such diverse marine life. I was amazed at some of the animals I was able to witness.
The way the water looked in the early morning was serene, almost as if there wasn’t a whole world beneath the surface.
Being a photographer has changed everything. My entire outlook was revamped for the better after I discovered the lens. I can’t wait to develop these shots today.
I unlock my back door and quickly discard my bags nearby. Only keeping my camera bag, I bring it into the darkroom and head back out toward my living room. I’ll get to work soon enough to see what the results are from my two nights away.
As I shut the door behind me, I come to a sudden halt. My bedroom door is wide open, which is not how I left it.
Reid was here. Of course he was.
I cautiously approach my bedroom and turn on the light, frantically looking around the room to see if he’s still here. Then I still.
In the center of the back wall, above my bed, is the Myles Tagin painting I so desperately wanted. It’s big, beautiful, and apparently mine.
My eyebrows furrow together in confusion. It had sold. That was the reason I left immediately after arriving.
This doesn’t make any sense. Does that mean Reid bought it from the person who purchased it at the art auction?
I plant my hands on my hips and stare at it in awe. This painting is beautiful, but what it symbolizes is far more important.
If Reid did buy it from whoever purchased it earlier that night, then he left Jill to do this yesterday. That means even after I tortured him with that photo, he still came here and left it for me as a surprise. He did this for me, to make me happy .
As I scan the painting, something on my bed catches my attention. I walk closer and examine what is strewn all over my bedspread. That’s when I realize what they are.
Polaroids. Dozens of Polaroids.
I pick one up and see it’s blurry. Most of them are actually. When I spot one that’s not, my eyebrows shoot up, and my mouth gapes open wide.
It has to be Reid.
Only he can’t be doing what I think he is in these. I pick one up, and it becomes clear as night. These are photos of him masturbating in my bed.
Reid was here.
He left me my dream painting.
Then he masturbated to my photo in my bedroom.
The evidence is all here.
Quickly, I scoop them up and place them neatly in my nightstand drawer. I’m not sure how I feel about this.
On one hand, it makes me feel incredibly aroused, and I can feel heat pooling low between my legs. On the other, this man is going to be marrying my mother. He sneaks into my room and watches me sleep. He’s a madman who just used my half-naked photo and came in my bed to get back at me.
I want to tell him to stop, but all I feel are butterflies in the pit of my stomach, knowing that later tonight, I’ll be seeing him again, and I’m looking forward to it.
I’m dreaming of him. It’s the best dream I’ve ever had. His hands are all over my body as he roughly squeezes my breasts together and teases my nipples. His hands are rougher than I remember, although I don’t think I’ve ever had him touch me this eagerly before.
One of his hands dips low and unties the string on my shorts along my waistband. My hips naturally buck up in encouragement because these shorts have to go.
He tugs them down my legs, leaving me only in my panties and a tank top. The way his rough hand is soft, touching the achy spot between my thighs, is unexpected. I try to buck more to get him to go harder.
I need to come from his touch.
It’s his touch alone that I’ve been dying for all this time.
“Quiet, little bird. You wouldn’t want to spoil this sweet dream of yours,” he whispers.
It sounds close, closer than I expected.
As dream Reid starts to work my clit harder, a moan slips out. My fog-like state starts to dissipate, and that’s when realization dawns on me: none of this is a dream.
Reid is in my bedroom stroking me exactly like I always imagined he would.
“Reid,” I whimper.
“Go back to sleep, sweet girl,” he murmurs.
I flip onto my back and grip the sides of my pillow. Keeping my eyes shut, I’m tormented by what to do.
I can want this in the dark .
I could still be sleeping, after all.
“Reid,” I moan.
He slips his hand into my panties, and I want to come just from the contact and without fabric between our skin.
The way his touch lights my body on fire is unmatched. I feel more than goosebumps and need; this is a proclamation of my body already belonging to him.
“That’s it. I need you to drench my hand with your cum,” he says as he continues to apply pressure.
I nod frantically; it’s unavoidable at this point.
“Yes, please ,” I whimper.
He laughs darkly.
“How I love to hear you beg, little bird.”
With a final strum against my clit, I scream into the abyss.
I pant as I try to come back down to reality.
Reid slowly removes his other hand from around my breast and then the one inside my soaked panties.
As my breathing steadies, I don’t know what the next move should be. I could always open my eyes and finally be face to face with this man.
Weight lifts from my bed and stops the mental gymnastics running through my mind. Footsteps padding against my floor, followed by the sound of my back door shutting rings through my bedroom.
Opening my eyes, I see it’s true; he’s gone.
The next day, I felt his presence everywhere. I couldn’t see him, but I knew he was around. When I woke up, I found another lone Polaroid on my nightstand of me sleeping. I looked peaceful once again.
As I went into town to run errands, I could feel someone’s eyes on me. Every single time I looked around to see if I could spot him, I never could. It became increasingly frustrating.
That morning, I wanted to confront him, to demand he give me answers to all of the questions I have, like why is he stalking me? How could he be with Jill still? What the hell was he doing out on Lamb Creek Mountain that summer night?
I have so many questions that I’m desperate for the answers to.
Days continue to string together, and there are no euphoric orgasms in the middle of the night and no sign of Reid outside of the lone Polaroid he continues to leave me when I’m sleeping each night.
That’s why later tonight, the seventh without feeling Reid next to me, I’m going to get my answers. The knife I have underneath my pillow will be my element of surprise. This time, I plan to use it to get what I want. When it’s next to his throat, he’ll finally have to tell me what the hell is going on between us before I lose my mind.