Chapter 34 Fitz
FITZ
Dammit, this was not how I wanted the evening to go.
“Let me out!” Winnie’s naked, banging on the door. “He’s after Fidget! Oh my god, Carolina was right! Wait, were you the stalker who left all the food?”
“Yeah, I’m the stalker doing your laundry, not the one threatening your dog, Winnie.”
“Let me out!” she screams.
“Winnie—”
She grabs one of the whips off the shelf.
“Ow!” I yelp as she slaps me in the face with it. I wrestle it from her. “I’m not letting you out. Fuck.”
She throws a big green dildo at me.
“For someone who proclaims she hates sports, you sure can throw.”
“I need to save my dog!”
“Let me handle it, Winnie,” I thunder.
It only stops her for a moment, then she’s back to screaming at me.
“Just because we had sex doesn’t mean I need you to fight my battles for me.”
“Can I at least give you some clothes?”
“Fine.” She crosses her arms, nose in the air.
“For god’s sake,” I swear, opening another secret door.
“You suck at kidnapping, by the way.”
I curse. “Fill out an online review, then.”
“I hope you never have a heart attack in your sex dungeon masturbating with a whip or something, because no one will ever be able to find you down here,” she grumbles as she follows me up the spiral staircase. “And it connects to your bedroom. Classic.”
“The shower is—”
“No time.” She’s already off in my closet. She grabs a shirt and a pair of my boxers.
“Creampuff—” I can see the outline of her pink nipples through the shirt. I grab her, wanting to fuck her again.
“Focus,” she orders. “I need a timeline of when you were in my house so I can cross-reference it to the other stalker. Darn. I should have brought my laptop. Or at least my tablet,” she says as she walks back to the spiral staircase.
“No, other stairs.” I direct her out the bedroom door.
“Oh, why aren’t my parents answering the phone?” she frets. “Something must have happened.”
“It’s pretty late.”
“Where are your keys?” she demands.
“I’ll have someone drive us. You’re not driving my car covered in cum. And I’m bringing some newspaper for you to sit on.”
“I thought you were going to be gone all night. What kind of date was that?” her grandmother hollers, squinting at us as Winnie storms into the house yelling, “Fidget!”
Winnie rushes to Fidget, who’s wearing a bib and is about to tuck into what looks like beef stew.
“Also, who gave her that?” Winnie demands. “She’s supposed to be on a diet.”
“Okay, get your dog, get your shit, you’re coming back with me.” I grab a Tupperware container and dump Fidget’s midnight snack in it.
“Winnie, I hate to say this, but I’m starting to agree with your mother.
” Her grandmother follows us around as I grab some of her clean laundry from the laundry room.
“You are the reason you don’t have a man.
You can’t just drag that poor man back here, middle of the night. You were supposed to sleep over.”
“We’re going back to my house. Don’t worry,” I tell Frances.
“No, we aren’t,” Winnie counters.
I grab her around the waist. “Sorry to ruin your night, Frances.”
“Seeing a hot shirtless man never ruins my night.” Frances waggles her eyebrows.
“You can’t—” Winnie struggles.
Fidget’s following her food to the front door.
“I can’t just leave my family here alone. Kathy—”
“Kathy’s at Loony Laura’s,” Frances informs us.
“Oh gosh, Gran, you can’t call her that. It’s going to get back to her. Fitz, let me go. Thank you for the date, but we’re fine here.”
“God save me, where did I go wrong?” Frances throws up her hands. “You try to teach them your values.”
“Look, Creampuff. You can come with me, or I can stay here with you and your family. That air mattress only looks like it’s big enough for one, so you’re sleeping on the pile of dirty laundry. Now I finally got you, I’m not giving you up that easily, especially not for the cheap copycat of me.”
“But my family—”
“I’ll have a security team watch the house. Happy?”
She nods.
“Great. Fidget, go back to bed.”
The dog’s mouth drops open.
“No, Fidget has to come with us.”
“…never getting great-grandchildren. I’ll be dead and buried—”
Winnie slams the front door after us.
It’s drizzling. Fidget immediately collapses and howls.
“You see? This is why—” I blow out a breath. “Fidget, get it together.”
Winnie tries to pick her up.
“Just—” I grab the dog and take her to the waiting SUV.
“Is the security at my house yet?”
“Yes, see?” I show her my phone where I’ve texted with my brother.
Crawford calls.
“Oh!” Winnie perks up. “Security is your hot brother who just oozes confidence and sex appeal?”
“That’s the one.” Crawford laughs on the line.
“If you’re calling about per diem—” I threaten.
“I’m calling about how this is not only not free, it’s late-fee extra.”
“Family truly means nothing to you people.” I hang up. “Don’t worry, Winnie, he’s good at his job. He’s also heavily invested in this saga. He was here when Temu stalker showed up.”
“Aww, he didn’t rescue me?” A smirk plays on her mouth.
I push her back onto the couch. “You’re seriously going to fuck with the guy who broke into your house, watched you while you slept?”
“No, I’m fucking the guy who stocks my fridge and changes my sheets.”
“You should change them weekly, or more because you let that dog stay with you,” I whisper to her.
Fidget has worked the top off the Tupperware and is wolfing down her stew.
“I can’t believe my parents are feeding her.”
“I don’t think you can blame your parents for that one, Creampuff.”
“What? Of course I can.”
“Fidget’s getting her own meals.”
“Um, no she’s not.” Winnie is incredulous.
“One night, you were at your café smut book club—”
“We talk about bestsellers.”
“She was making a microwave mug cupcake.”
Fidget wags her tail softly.
“Smelled pretty good too.”
“No wonder the vet keeps harping on me to make you lose weight,” she says to the dog.
“Border collies are smart, right?”
“I want to believe that.” She opens up her laptop then pulls back her hair in a scrunchie. “Now I need to make a spreadsheet.”
“Creampuff—” I pull her over to me on the couch. “For someone who just got her brains fucked out, you’re really high-strung.” I kiss her mouth. “I need you to know—” I kiss her again. “I’m not like those losers you date.”
“That makes you sound like a douche.”
“I’m not a douche.” I unbutton the shirt. “I’m a grade-A asshole.”
She slides the boxers off. Sighs.
I suck on her tits as I stroke her wet pussy.
“I had planned to fuck you all night, not make a spreadsheet.”
“Maybe we can negotiate.”
I roll the condom on. “I didn’t get rich by negotiation.”
She shudders, her ass doing that delicious jiggle as I seat her on my cock, my balls nestled in her hot, wet pussy.
“And anyways—” She gasps as I grab her waist, pull her up, then let her fall back down on my cock. “You didn’t fuck my brains out,” she moans, writhing on my cock. “You used a lot of third-party products.”
As she rocks forward to kiss me, her soft thighs rub against mine. It’s heaven.
“I’m surprised I can even get you wet without threatening bodily harm,” I whisper against her mouth as I fuck her down onto my dick.
“See, women, we have this thing called imagination.”
I grab her ass and thrust up into her hard as I pull her down onto me, satisfied when she groans and runs her nails down my chest.
“I’m thinking right now about waking up with some hot masked stranger, dangerous, sex-crazed…” Her teeth scrape my chin. “And he’s just fucking my pussy, and I can’t even move. Can’t even call for help. Just have to lie there and take it.”
“Fuck,” I grunt as she arches against me. “Fuck, Creampuff. I’m going to sneak into your room tomorrow night and hold you down and fuck you, muffle you with the pillow while you scream. How about that?”
“I don’t have a room.”
“I’ll give the troll free tickets to the basketball game.”
She writhes in my arms.
I rub her clit, and she comes on my cock. I fuck up into her hard, drawing it out, then I’m coming into the condom.
Shit.
“Are you seriously coming to my house tomorrow night?”
“Maybe.” I smirk at her. “Or the next night. Or maybe the next.” I grab her and push her against me, not ready to let her go yet. “You’ll just have to wait in terror and anticipation.”
“We’re going to see if regular sex makes me a better boss. I may not say shit to Olive today, just let her burn that avocado toast,” she says as I drop her off in front of her café.
“You’re never at your other locations.”
Her eyes narrow.
“I can make a spreadsheet too. I went to B-school.”
“This one is my problem child. The other ones run like military operations.”
I kiss her once more then let her go.
This should be it. I should be bored.
I crested the mountain.
Won the auction.
Took a picture of the Instagram-famous view.
Have the trophy.
What I expected was a few more weeks of living the double life, then I’d get bored, just like with the goat farm.
God, I have to get rid of those things.
“Hey, you want to see some goats, Fidget? That’s in your wheelhouse, right?”
I don’t know why I can’t stop thinking about Winnie.
It’s over.
I mean, I guess I can have sex with her a few more times, but usually, I’d be done by now. I mean, we had mostly vanilla sex on the couch, even, which hasn’t been anything I’ve been interested in for a long time.
In fact, women generally haven’t interested me in a long time.
Except Winnie.
But it was nice just to cuddle on the couch, let her play her fingers in my hair, see her wearing my shirt.
The goat farm is not in Fidget’s wheelhouse. She’s very unhappy I have taken her there, and she does not like the goats.
“Look,” I tell her as I set the hamburger in front of her on the car dashboard. “You cannot tell Winnie.” “Also,” I warn the dog as she pauses over the burger, “do not cockblock me tonight. Capisce?”
Tonight.
I send Crawford’s man away after I drop off Fidget and change into my stalker outfit.
Sit in my favorite spot.
And just watch her go about her routine.
It’s like I want to be there with her.
In her life.
In her world.
Not just her bed.
Will I do it tonight?
The troll is out.
Winnie’s puttering around her bedroom.
I texted her earlier that I put fresh sheets on the bed.
Now she’s arguing with her mom about something. Slams the door.
Now she’s snuggled down in her bed, reading a book.
Maybe I should curl up next to her.
She just wants to get laid though, right?
She doesn’t want me to sleep next to her.
Food, I decide suddenly. She’ll want food after sex.
Thirty minutes later, I’m cutting through the backyard.
Her bedroom light is off. She must have known I’m not waiting three days.
I set the food on the windowsill then swing up onto the roof of the neighboring house.
Then I see her, in her bedroom…
With a man…
She’s smiling up at him…
That fucking—