♛Chapter Two♛
Lola
My legs ache, my lungs burn, and a stitch digs into my side, but I push through.
He’s fast. If he keeps up these morning runs, I’ll be down a few pounds by next month.
Not that I mind. Anything to keep up with him.
To stay close. I keep far enough not to be noticed, but close enough to follow.
His muscles coil and stretch beneath his shirt.
I press my thighs together at the sight.
He ran harder today, longer. Is he restless?
Frustrated? I wish I could crawl into his head.
By the time he reaches his usual café, I’m already there, hidden in a dark corner. My running hat shields my face. My coffee cools between my fingers. He steps inside, sweat clinging to the back of his neck. I could lick the salt from his skin.
He orders his usual: black coffee, no sugar.
A creature of habit. A man of discipline.
He likes control. I could give him control.
Anything he wants. He leans against the counter, waiting.
The pretty barista hands him his cup, all smiles and bright eyes.
His fingers brush hers as he takes the drink.
She lingers. She fucking lingers . I take a sip of my coffee.
It sits in my stomach like poison. I notice the ink smudged along the side of his cup.
Her phone number. My vision turns red. I imagine ripping the pen from her pocket and dragging it across her throat.
I picture shoving her fingers into the espresso grinder, bones crunching like brittle candy, then stringing those fingers onto a chain and wearing them around my neck like trophies.
Would she still smile at him then? Would she still dare to scribble her pathetic little numbers on something that belongs to me?
Mikhail takes a sip, completely unaware. Unaware of the war I would wage for him. He glances toward the window, and my pulse spikes. I think he noticed me.
But he didn’t. I don’t know whether to feel grateful or pissed.
He doesn’t sit inside today. He takes his coffee and leaves.
I give him a head start, my blood still humming as I push to my feet.
And just like always, I follow.
A sleek black Range Rover slows to a stop in front of him. My brows pull together. He didn’t order an Uber. I would’ve noticed. He hadn’t even touched his phone since stepping inside.
Mikhail slides into the car without hesitation. The tinted windows reveal nothing of who’s inside before the vehicle speeds off, too fast for me to follow. I chew my lip. I’ve been behind him since early morning, and now he’s gone.
I make my way back to my apartment, shoulders slumped. Will he be long? Is this one of those times when he vanishes for days without a trace? The keys dig into my palm. I hate when he’s gone.
The cool rush of air conditioning in the apartment complex is a relief.
"Miss Lola," the concierge greets.
"Morning." I reply.
"How are the grandkids?" I ask. They are his pride and joy.
His face brightens instantly. "They're doing well. The youngest just started preschool last week. Already giving the teacher a hard time."
I let out a small laugh. "Sounds like a handful."
"She is, but it’s cute."
"Enjoy it while it lasts," I hum. "They grow up and become grumpy teenagers fast."
Then you stop loving them when they’re no longer moldable or how you always imagined they’d be. But hey, that’s just my father.
"Ain’t that the truth."
"Well, give them a hug from me," I tell him.
"Will do. You have a good one, Miss Lola."
"You too."
I ride up to my floor, my fingers tapping against my thigh. When the doors slide open, I notice the package sitting neatly outside my door.
Right on time.
I grab the box and walk into my apartment. I toe off my sneakers, stretching my aching legs. Damn, my muscles are sore.
Tearing the box open, I pull out one of the tiny cameras.
He’s not home.
But if I get caught…
My face is flushed from the run, hair messy, lips dry. No. I need to look the part. I strip out of my sweat-dampened clothes and slip on a black dress instead. I slide into high heels and tie my hair into a high ponytail. Grabbing the cameras, I drop them into my purse.
Well, if I get caught, at least he might be tempted to pin me down and fuck me. Not pin me down and call the police.
I managed to get the keys to his place without him even knowing. He dropped them one morning while coming back from his run. Just a little slip. Just a quick, careless moment. A day later, I had my copy. I returned the keys with an innocent smile, claiming I found them on our floor.
And now, as I stand in front of his door, I don’t need to fumble with any locks. My hands tremble with anticipation as I move through his apartment. I take in the space, every detail telling me more about him.
I plant the hidden cameras quickly. Behind the picture frame on the wall. Under the couch cushions. Above the doorframe where it would be nearly impossible to notice.
Except for the bathroom. No. I don’t touch that. I don’t need to invade everything. He deserves that little sliver of space. The rest? All mine.
I reach for the pillow on his bed, dragging it to my face.
The smell is intoxicating. My whole body reacts to it.
My head spins. My thighs tighten with the need to feel him.
I slip my hand between my legs. The wetness is instant.
Soon I’ll be here. In his bed. With him.
He’ll smell like me, and I’ll smell like him.
Breathless, I pull back, reluctantly tearing myself away from the pillow and removing my hand from my pussy.
But there’s one more thing I need before I leave.
His cologne. I want it.
I reach for the small bottle on his dresser. It’s just a travel-sized bottle. I slip it into my purse.
I don’t stay long. I can’t. I slip back into the hallway and close the door behind me. Every piece of him is in me now. And soon, he’ll have no choice but to let me in.
But then it happens. His eyes. They’re right there, right in front of me. I never planned for this. I didn’t think I’d actually be caught in the act. His gaze locks on mine, sharp and piercing. My throat goes dry.
For a moment, nothing moves. Everything around me feels like it’s suffocating. Time stands still.
Fuck.