9. Chapter 9 – Lincoln
Chapter 9 – Lincoln
B e nice.
Be nice.
Be fucking nice.
I repeated the mantra in my head the entire time I sat at the table waiting for her to bring my dinner to me. Earlier, I set her up with the panties in my closet, and all afternoon I could see the weight of it on her shoulders as I watched her through the cameras from my office.
Although I wanted to push her away, I had to take my time breaking her down. I couldn’t do it too fast, or she’d quit and leave forever. I needed to give her just enough hope that it would work as my housekeeper, so she’d stay close. If she left, I’d never get her completely free during the chase.
She had to hate me to let Dane have a chance to give her what she desperately needed. But I didn’t need to destroy every piece of her self-esteem in two days, so I forced myself to rein in it.
I heard the click of her heels before she entered into the dining room. Last night, she’d worn a tight black dress that hugged every inch of her lush curves. Forty-seven times at least while I ate my meal I imagined sliding my hand up her silky thigh and lifting the fabric of her skirt until it was bunched around her waist and then lay her back on the table and feast on her pussy instead of the delicious meal she made me. Tonight, though, she wore black slacks and a long sleeve navy blue top.
I hated it. And I knew she wore it as a barrier against my crass ass.
So for the meal, I’d soften just a bit. Give her hope and maybe ease some of the weight on her shoulders for an hour until she could retire to my guest house and talk to her stalker.
I could tell by the way she continuously checked her phone through the day that she wanted him to reach out to her. Yet I didn’t, even though I longed to dive into her brain all day instead of all my other work.
“Wine?” She asked, holding up a bottle of red and I leaned back in my chair, holding my glass out to her so she didn’t have to reach.
“Please.” Fuck if I could remember the last time I said please to anyone but Mrs. Straight. And that was usually in sass after she admonished me about something in the way a mother would.
At least a mother who loved her child.
“Dinner will be out in a moment.” Peyton announced and turned away, but I reached out and grabbed her arm as she turned, surprising her.
“What did you make me tonight?” I gentled my hold on her arm and then let go completely as she stared at me like I had four heads.
“Tortellini.” She whispered softly and then cleared her throat and added with more conviction, “Chicken and tortellini in a sundried tomato cream sauce. ”
“If it tastes as good as it smells, I’m sure it will be delicious.” I brought my wineglass to my lips and swallowed it as she continued to stare. “I’m nearly salivating for it.”
“I’ll be right back.” She scurried from the room, her face flushed with embarrassment, and I couldn’t help but grin at her discomfort. I pledged to soften myself a bit in her presence, but not that I wouldn’t make her squirm. It was half the fun.
When she returned, there was a bit of a pep to her step as she carried a large steaming plate out and gently set it down on the table in front of me.
“Enjoy.” She smiled politely and took a step back.
“Aren’t you going to wait to see if I like it or not?” I unwrapped my silverware and eyed her as she froze with her hands behind her back as I moved the food around with my fork. “Or don’t you care what I think?”
“I care.” She replied instantly, “I just didn’t want to hover.”
“Have you eaten?” I forked a piece of chicken and brought it to my mouth, chewing it slowly as a warm spice erupted across my taste buds. She could fucking cook. I thought maybe the pork had been a one off, but she was hitting each meal out of the park.
“I ate earlier.” She hesitated. “Do you like it?”
I wiped my mouth with my napkin and looked at her squarely, “It’s the best thing I’ve tasted in a long time, Ms. Everett.” I held her wide green eyes until she blinked and broke the connection, blushing and dropping her head.
“Good.” She smiled shyly like she wasn’t used to praise. “Is there anything else I can get for you, Sir?”
To stop calling me that.
I shook my head and gave her a nod, “I’m all set, have a great night. ”
“You too.” She left, leaving me with nothing but the soft scent of her perfume and the distant click of her heels as she left my home.
Leaving me in silence and solitude, just like every other night.
Someday it wouldn’t be like that though, I thought to myself as I opened the app on my phone to our messages and simultaneously pulled up the camera in the guest house.
She was just walking in and toeing off her high heels as I watched.
The red box I sent her sat unopened on her kitchen counter and she stared at it as she walked by to her bedroom.
Come on, sweet girl. Open it. Open your stalker’s gift.
When I first contacted her on the app, I figured she would zero in on the fact that I was obviously not some normal man on the site. I knew things about her she couldn’t explain, yet she only balked at them briefly, and then let me into her head deeper than I managed on my own.
I wanted in all of the way though. I wanted to know every single piece of her personality and her feelings and her moods. I wanted to know her good and bad. I wanted it all.
And I would get it.
As soon as she realized what she wanted was within reach and finally allowed herself to shed her past like an old skin. Shed her boyfriend, and her friends who didn’t care. Shed her life and her reservations about what she really wanted for herself.
Only then would she come to me willingly.
And until then, I’d take what she gave me under the guise of sexual satisfaction and exploration.
I ate my meal in silence, watching her camera until she came back out of her bedroom in that same pink bathrobe she wore in the picture she sent me. Someday, I’d drape her body in silk and satin and any other materialistic thing she craved. She’d have it all .
I watched her eye the box once again, on her way to the wine fridge and then after she poured herself a glass she picked up her phone and I tapped into her cell camera, getting an up close view of her perfection as she typed something on the screen. With just my phone, I couldn’t monitor all of my screens to see her and what she was doing on her phone, so I settled for watching her until a message popped through the app to me.
I grinned to myself as I took my plate to the sink and rinsed it off before putting it into the dishwasher and starting it.
As I walked back upstairs to my office I opened the message and felt an adrenaline rush through my veins as she came to me willingly.
I’m in for the night. May I open my present now?
I made it into my office and pulled up the other views of her that I desperately wanted, the one of her phone screen, her webcam and the one in her home. I had her on all angles and I was ready to play with my toy.
Are you excited to see what I got you?
Very. You know nothing about me, other than I want to be chased like a piece of prey. So I’m anxious to see what you could have gotten me.
Pretty little, Peyton. I know more about you than anyone else does. But I won’t bore you with those details right now. Open your gift.
I watched her hesitate briefly before laying her phone down on the counter and slowly pull the red ribbon bow free, releasing the top of the box and then tentatively lifting it. Her ruby red wine stained lips parted as she stared down into the box and froze with her fingers perched on the edge of it.
Satin and lace awaited her. In the same shade as the box. She gently lifted the dress out of the box and held it up, letting her eyes roam over it like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. It would hug every inch of her body from her shoulder to the tops of her thighs, leaving her arms bare and dipping low in front. I desperately wanted to see her in the dress, wearing what I bought for her, and my cock hardened, knowing how fun it would be to rip the thing to shreds when I caught her during our game.
She set the dress on the counter and took out the pair of designer stilettos and gaped at them as she laid them on top. I put my hand on my hard-on as she pulled out the lingerie next. It was black and completely see through, making my mouth water as I imagined her supple flesh spilling out around the fabric. I growled when she ran her fingers gently over the see through fabric of one bra cup, imagining how her hard nipple would poke through the material when I pinched them.
I was so busy fantasizing about our night together; I didn’t see her pick up her phone until her message came through.
Dane.
Yes?
I don’t know what to say. No one has ever gifted me something so thoroughly thought out before.
You mean Tyson doesn’t shower you with gifts?
I knew it was bold, to mention the fuck wad by name. But I ached for the power I had over her to be recognized. She looked around her living space again and then replied.
I need to know how you know so much about me. I want to not care, but I can’t. Alarms are ringing in my head and I want to silence them for this, but I need something to help me.
Send me a picture first. Then I will give you an answer.
She took a deep breath and hesitated, so I sent her another message. I could almost read her thoughts as she fought with herself. She wanted this, but was afraid to dive in. It made sense, given I was a stranger stalking her life and offering her deepest desire on a silver platter.
Don’t you dare think about him when you’re talking to me. He doesn’t deserve your time.
I know that.
Give me what I want, Sweet Girl. And I’ll give you what you need. I’ll always take care of your needs.
She hesitated again, but then grabbed the shoes off the counter and walked into her bedroom. My heartbeat erupted in my chest as I fought the urge to stalk her through her phone’s camera. Instead, I screen recorded what it was seeing and exited out, staring at the empty living room of her house for two minutes.
Then three.
Then four .
When five rolled around, I was losing all resolve to lock myself out as a message came through.
I hope you know how fucking insane I feel.
I growled deep in my chest and squeezed my cock tight as her image took up an entire screen directly in front of me.
Fucking sinful perfection.
My sweet girl had pulled the chair in her bedroom over right in front of the floor-length mirror on the wall. The image was her reflection in the mirror and her phone was in front of her face, but so much more of her skin was on display for me. She sat in the chair, wearing nothing but the sexy stilettos on her feet. Her legs were wide open, with her toes sensually pointed.
One hand sat flat on the chair between her thick thighs, blocking my view of her naked pussy and her arm covered one breast while the other holding the camera blocked her other breast.
Essentially nothing was displayed, yet somehow, everything was.
She was a fucking goddess, just how I knew she would be. And she gave me the gift of seeing it.
Pretty Girl.
My perfect, beautiful, sensual, pretty girl.
Do you like it?
I could hear her voice in my head repeating the phrase she asked me each time she fed me.
I’ve never wanted anything more than I want you. Ever.
Why me? Tell me how and why you found me.
Do you believe in fate? Or a driving force, pushing something into existence for no other reason than it was meant to be?
I never used to.
I came across a picture of you by chance. And something called to me in it. So I did what I do best. I studied. I stalked. I immersed myself in you and your life until there wasn’t a single secret left unknown to me. I know about your boyfriend. I know you’re only with him because it’s what is expected of you by your parents. I know you play with yourself when he’s not around because he can’t make you come. I know he doesn’t treat you like the goddess you are. I know he can’t give you what you need. What you crave. But I can. My dark matches yours, pretty girl. My monster matches your call for danger.
I dared to unfreeze the feed to her cellphone camera again and watched her eyes flick back and forth across the screen as she read my message. She was still naked, still in the chair but nothing was on display for me.
Put your robe back on. Because I’m watching you, and I refuse to see anything you don’t specifically show me. Not until you give me permission to see it. But you’re tempting a monster who’s trying to be a gentleman in that aspect at least.
Her breath hitched, and she looked over her shoulder and then back at her phone before pulling her robe back onto her body.
Where?
Do you really want the answer to that? Because the places I can’t see you are far less than the ones I can.
I want to see you.
What part of me do you want to see? I showed you all but two parts last night.
You didn’t show me your face. Or your cock.
And I don’t plan to show you my face. Not until you’re ready to accept that this is more than some sexual adventure for me.
I know I should ask what that means, but all I really want to know right now is if you’ll show me your cock since you won’t show me your face.
You want a dick pic, pretty girl?
I want to know what to expect tomorrow night. Something tells me you aren’t lacking in that department.
I didn’t even fucking hesitate, as I pulled my pants down my thighs and bared my rock-hard cock, wrapping my hand around it and stroking it in front of the camera for her. She wanted a picture, but I’d do her one better and send her a video .
I didn’t talk, but I backed up enough that she could see the one monitor in front of me, which was showing her through her cell phone camera as she chewed on her nail, staring at her phone. And I stroked myself for her while she waited. And when she licked her lip seductively, I groaned, stroking faster for her.
Before I came, I ended the video and sent it to her. And then I sat there in silence and watched her through her phone camera as she played my video. I knew the second she looked away from my fat cock and caught herself on the screen in front of me. Her lips parted, and she stared directly into the camera on her phone in surprise.
And that was when I fucking came. With her eyes on mine, and the picture, she sent me on another screen.
My pretty fucking puppet.
Mine to play with.
Mine to keep.