To Have and to Stalk (My Very Own Book Boyfriend #1)

Chapter 1

chapter

one

SHAY

“Are you going to kill me?” I asked as a knife slammed between my legs, pinning my dress to the soft earth.

A man crouched between my spread thighs, leather-gloved hand on the knife—big.

Like everything else about him.

Covered head to toe in black—black gloves, black shirt, and black pants—his face was hidden under a motorcycle helmet. There was a hint of a tattoo on his neck, but I couldn’t make it out in the dark.

“If I am,” he said, “I don’t think you should be looking at me like that.”

His voice was mechanically altered into something impossibly deep, metallic, and rough. Like a knife scraping over gravel.

“Like what?” I asked. Against my better judgment, my eyes dropped to his cock.

He laughed. It was rough and ragged and fucked me up. My gaze snapped back to his helmet.

I didn’t recognize the woman reflecting back at me from his black visor. Her thighs were spread, her honey-blonde hair was curly and wild. Her cheeks were flushed from running. Rows and rows of headstones were behind her. She was unapologetically feral.

“Like you want me to fuck you first.” His grip flexed on the knife, pushing it deeper into the earth.

I swallowed. “You wish.”

My elbows dug into wet earth as I crawled backward, my dress catching and on the blade with an audible tear. Getting free meant I’d have to rip my dress.

He sat back on his heels, arms between his thighs, and tilted his head, helmet cocking as he watched me struggle.

I could imagine the arrogant smile.

Then he spoke, and I heard it in his fucking voice.

“Do your friends know where you are?” His hand slid up my inner thigh and disappeared under my dress. I was pinned. Trapped. At his mercy. And something about the fact that I couldn’t see his face wove fear and heat into a dangerous, jagged braid.

But at least he didn’t know. He couldn’t see between my legs, see how my body betrayed me. How wet I was.

His thumb stopped just at the crease of my thigh. “Do they know you’re begging to be fucked by a monster?”

A soft leather thumb ghosted across my pussy—

I kneed him in the gut and he grunted at the impact, falling back.

Run.

I tore out of the ground, my dress butterflying. Icy winter air pebbled my now exposed thighs.

Run.

I wove through rows of headstones, nearly tripping over an upturned root. Above me, stars glittered in the black sky.

Run.

The winter air burned my lungs. The wrought iron entrance was just a few yards away, beyond it the street and freedom. Dead leaves crackled at my back, footsteps closer. Then far away. Then close again.

He’s playing with me.

A wicked amalgam of fear and lust intertwined inside me at the realization that he could grab me at any moment. My thighs burned as I dug into my reserves, pushing to make it.

So close—

Muscular arms wrapped around my waist and lifted me off the ground with ease. He dragged me backward, the exit growing smaller and smaller.

My feet kicked open air. I threw an elbow into his gut this time. In response, he tossed me over his shoulder, his arm an iron band beneath my ass.

I thrashed.

I clawed.

I screamed—

Something cold, hard, and plastic came between my thighs, spreading me.

The knife handle.

I froze, sucking in a sharp breath. The knife was barely at my entrance. If I struggled, if I even breathed wrong, it would slide inside me.

I went from fighting to get away to fisting his soft, black shirt, trying to stay perfectly still.

An aching silence followed. The hush of my pale breath in the night air. The susurration of skeletal tree branches.

The handle jostled with each steady, confident step he took. Sliding in, then out.

Then all at once, it was gone.

He held my bare ass, the supple leather of his glove juxtaposed with his bruising grip. Then he dragged me from his shoulder and my feet hit something solid, very much not earth.

Casket.

He’d placed me in an open fucking grave.

My dress fell back into place as his hands left my waist, the torn edges blowing in the night breeze.

Then he stood to his full height. He was already fucking tall.

At this angle, he was monstrous. He was clearly fit too.

His black shirt clung to the ripples and grooves of his muscles.

There was also something athletic about his build, like he’d gotten his muscles through use, not a gym.

All black against a blacker night, he seemed to grow and disappear into the night sky. A shadow. A god. A demon there to deliver judgment.

The casket was suspended, so his cock was eye level with mine. The outline hard and rigid against his thigh.

I reached forward and grasped his belt—

He knotted his hand in my hair, tearing my head back painfully. Deliciously.

“You haven’t earned that.”

The tips of my fingers slid beneath his waistline as I held on to the belt. Muscles flexed beneath my touch. Iron hard.

I was touching him.

His hot, hidden flesh felt illicit.

“But…” I said, trying not to think about how I could feel his muscles contract like he was holding himself back. His grip in my hair flexed in sync with the bob of his Adam’s apple.

I eyed the knife in his other hand.

As if reading my thoughts, he laughed. “Nah, little Maniac, you haven’t earned that either.”

He forced me to my knees using the grip in my hair.

Again, my face reflected back at me from his helmet. The black leather glove tangled in my hair. My brown eyes big and wide. The heat of my breath fogging the black plastic through parted lips.

I couldn’t help but wonder how he looked. What was the face to match the body? Thick lips? Dark eyes? I was having trouble picturing something to adequately match his wild, merciless aura. It was a vibe reserved for books, for dark moors and Heathcliff haunted by Catherine.

“So what, then?” I asked.

I once again fisted the fabric of his shirt. His hand flexed almost imperceptibly in my hair.

Then he stood up and threw something white down. Oh god…was that a bone?

A…a femur.

There was no way he wanted me to fuck that. Right?

“You want my cock?” he asked, palming it over his jeans, eyes landing on the bone. “Fucking earn it.”