Chapter 8
8
Leon
I reach into my pocket, wrapping my fingers around Emery’s spare key.
It was too easy. When she turned her back, I lifted it off the hook, and she didn’t even notice it was missing.
I’m shocked by her lack of awareness. Something about Emery troubles me—signs of carelessness and a lack of regard for her safety.
She shouldn’t have let me corner her alone in the hospital, and she sure as Hell shouldn’t have opened her damn door.
Or maybe she wants me to take control and give her precisely what she doesn’t know she needs.
The thought feeds that primal part of me that wants to leave a mark on her, to show her that no one else will protect her as I will.
The van is still there when I get outside, so I haul Tomaso’s stiffening body into the back and dump it beside Julio.
It only takes a minute to tune the console into Emery’s apartment once more, and the speaker picks up the murmur of her television.
I can’t stay here. My car is parked in a dark spot below some trees at the end of the street, so when my crew arrives to clean up, they won’t notice it.
But it won’t do to be discovered in the back of a surveillance van, clearly stalking a civilian. I’m the boss, but people talk, and the less anyone knows about my sweet doctor, the better.
All I have to do is leave.
I’ve got her key; I can come back whenever I want. I could go home, wait a few days, and let the anticipation build.
Learning about her will be fun, and I’ll have the upper hand when I spring my trap.
But try as I might, I can’t tear myself away.
I glance up at her window. She’s left the blind open, just as I told her. Then she appears at the window, almost in silhouette, with the bright light behind her.
I watch, slack-jawed, as she releases her hair from the updo and lets it flow onto her smooth shoulders. Over the speaker, I catch a sigh that sounds as close as it would if her lips were beside my ear.
I enjoy the intimacy of a stolen moment. The glass is tinted, so she can’t see me, and it’s just as well.
I’m staring, transfixed. I assumed she would see the van and know it belonged to Dante’s men. Or does she somehow sense it’s me who’s watching?
Emery turns to one side and raises her arms over her head to stretch. Her breasts swell in her tight shirt, rising until they crest the neckline.
My cock is already thickening, unfurling until it begins to give me a real problem.
She has no idea what she’s doing to me. She’s already unraveling my control just standing there, stretching like that.
I want to look into her eyes and breathe in her soft little moans.
Oh, fuck. I have two choices: get in my car and make tracks, or let myself into Emery’s apartment and find out whether my instincts about that fucking gorgeous girl are correct.
Because I think she wants a piece of me, and God knows I’ve got a big piece right here. And she can have it all, hard and deep.
Whatever I do, I must get out of this van.
Reluctantly, I switch off the console and make a break for my car. Every part of me is screaming to stay, to watch and listen just a little longer.
I sit low in my driver’s seat, resisting the urge to squeeze my cock and help relieve the nagging ache.
Emery’s apartment is enveloped in darkness. The lights are all out.
She’s going to bed.
The image of her lying in the darkness is too much for my fevered imagination. Soft curves, those rounded tits, her tight pussy.
I’d stretch her out, get her all wet and gasping so she could take every inch of me. No condoms, no barriers; just my come filling her fertile little cunt. Breeding her.
Jesus Christ. Where did that come from?
The idea of simply going home and jerking off seems ludicrous.
I’ve never forced myself on a woman and never will, but if I get my way, Emery and I will spend a lot of time in each other’s company, and she won’t be able to deny her attraction to me forever.
I’m starting to think I might lose my mind before then.
I have at least a week to get through, and patience has never been my strength. I could go back in there and take more than just her key.
Panties, ideally. Something to tide me over, to keep me from climbing the damn walls thinking about her.
My mind is made up.
I palm the key and head for Emery’s apartment door, moving silently, my growing obsession powering each step.