Chapter 14
XAVE
A smile slides over my lips as Damon stares at the spot where I was just standing, his confusion clear even through his mask.
I’ve been following him for almost a week now, and while it’s not the first time I’ve had to play shadow for a mark, it’s the first time I’ve enjoyed it.
Usually, tailing someone is boring as fuck, and I spend it wishing I was anywhere else and waiting for the time to pass, but not with Damon.
It’s not that he’s any more interesting than my previous marks—the opposite is actually true. Damon is a creature of habit, and his routine is as predictable as they come.
He goes to class, has two coffee shops on campus he frequents, and he likes to go for walks along the paths late at night.
He sometimes goes to The Stacks, which is a bar and café in an old bookstore where students can borrow one of the many books lining the wall-to-wall shelves to either take home or read while they’re there.
Other than that, he spends most of his time in Romeo House, and the only person I’ve seen him hang out with is one of his frat brothers, a guy named West.
He’s as boring as they come, but for some reason, I enjoy watching him.
There’s something about the way he’ll stop suddenly, his shoulders tense as he looks around, like he can sense me watching him, that makes my blood pump faster in my veins.
And I can’t deny the little thrill that ripples through me when he sweeps his gaze over where I’m hiding, like he knows I’m out there but can’t quite pinpoint where.
I like that he can sense me, and I really like how he’s not afraid.
Most of my marks have no clue that I’m following them, and that’s by design, but the few who have figured it out always reacted with fear.
They changed their routines and walked unnaturally fast and took roundabout routes to go places.
They stayed in their rooms and avoided going out, or they surrounded themselves with people, like that would somehow protect them from my gaze.
But not Damon.
He hasn’t changed a thing about his routine, and he doesn’t try to escape when he senses me. He’s curious and a bit confused, like he’s not sure if what he’s feeling is real, but he isn’t afraid.
It almost feels like he’s taunting me. No, taunting isn’t the right word.
It feels like he’s teasing me. Like he’s showing me he’s not afraid, and he’s almost daring me to do more than just watch him every time he senses me out there but doesn’t do anything to protect himself.
I know those thoughts are fucked up, and I don’t need a therapist to tell me that the things I’ve thought about while I’ve been in the shadows tailing him are beyond fucked up.
And that the things I fantasized about are most people’s nightmares.
Maybe it’s my brain’s way of passing the time while I’m on the job, but that’s when it feels like I’m not just following him, I’m pursuing him. Not just as stalker and stalkee, but like we’re predator and prey.
Something dark moves through my chest as Damon walks away from the bar and goes to stand against the wall, his gaze still fixed on the spot where I was standing only a moment ago.
That dark feeling shifts and changes until it almost feels like greed and possession, but there’s an edge of exhilaration under it that excites a deep, primal part of me. A part that I’ve kept under wraps for a reason.
This wasn’t the plan when I followed him here. I had my own invite, so getting into the party wasn’t a problem. And having masks as part of the dress code makes it even easier to keep an eye on him without being seen or recognized.
That’s why the plan was to keep watching him from afar.
So why the hell did I let him see me?
There’s a high chance he didn’t recognize me, and there’s no way to know for sure that he was actually looking at me and not just in my direction. But that doesn’t change the fact that I stayed where I was when he turned toward me, and I could feel his gaze lock on me as he stood frozen in place.
The first rule of tailing someone is to stay out of sight. The second rule is to never reveal yourself or engage with your mark, and the last is to let things play out and not get involved in anything that’s happening if there’s no risk to you or the mission.
I just broke two of those rules, and I don’t feel even a hint of remorse.
All I feel is a strange sense of satisfaction.
Damon knows I’m watching him. He saw me, and he’s still not afraid.
The corners of my mouth curl up as another rush of that dark excitement moves through me. I should walk away, but fuck it. Some rules are made to be broken.
I watch as Damon’s head sweeps around like he’s searching the room for something, and I carefully slip into the shadows to stay out of sight until I want him to see me again.
He’s still looking around when a girl in a white miniskirt and a sheer white top with an opaque white panel at breast level comes up to him and puts her hand on his arm to get his attention.
Her shirt is loose and flowing, and by how his head dips down for a few beats as she raises up on her tiptoes to say something in his ear, he probably just got an eyeful of her breasts.
The excitement that was flowing through me sours in an instant, and the jealousy that settles in my stomach as I watch Damon shoot back the rest of his drink, then take her hand and lead her into the throng of dancers is as unwelcome as it is unexpected.
Moving along the wall, I keep them in sight as they find a spot among the dancing couples and groups. More of that sour feeling gathers in my stomach as Damon and the girl start dancing.
The song playing over the speakers is too fast and too upbeat to get down and dirty to, and there’s a fair amount of space between Damon and his dance partner compared to the people around them, but that doesn’t make me feel any better as I watch them.
Damon is an incredible dancer, and he’s poetry in motion as he moves sinuously to the music.
My eyes roam over his long, lean muscles, and heat pools in my balls as my dick thickens.
He’s not overly big, but he’s lean and solid. His wide shoulders and thick thighs emphasize his slender waist, and his ass is incredible. It’s full and round, and more of that heat curls in my stomach as my gaze lingers on his backside.
I’ve never looked at another guy’s body and felt even a hint of attraction, but there’s no denying that Damon’s very male body turns me on.
Memories of a hot mouth and powerful hands tug at my consciousness, and before I can think about what I’m doing, I step out of the shadows.
Almost as if he senses me, Damon’s head turns, and I feel his eyes lock on me. His movements become less graceful, and he loses the beat a few times, but he doesn’t look away as I stand there, letting him look back at me.
The girl he’s dancing with presses closer to him, obviously trying to get his attention. He turns his face toward her, and I slip back into the shadows in the brief moment he’s looking away.
Dark amusement moves through me, chasing away the sour displeasure from before, when he does a double take as he looks back at where I was standing.
If not prey, why prey shaped?
I chuckle to myself and weave through the crowd, using the dancers around me as cover as I cross the room and stand against the far wall.
I watch as Damon keeps looking over to where I was standing and wait patiently as he looks around, like he’s searching the entire room for me.
His dance partner presses right up against him, drawing his attention away from his search and back to her. Not missing a beat of the song, he spins her around so her back is to him and pulls her against his body.
A flare of something dark and angry tugs at my chest, but it’s extinguished a moment later when Damon lifts his head and looks in my direction.
I’m not hidden in the shadows this time, and I stay still as his gaze once again seems to lock on me.
His movements falter a bit as he loses the beat, but he recovers before his dance partner can notice his distraction.
We stay like that for a full twenty seconds, just staring at each other while he dances and I let him look at me.
I can’t see his face, so I have no idea what he’s thinking or if he recognizes me, but he knows someone is watching him. He knows, and he’s still not afraid.
The music changes to a sultry R&B song from the ’90s that’s been heavily remixed, and Damon steps away from his dance partner.
Still keeping him in my sight, I retreat to the shadows while he’s distracted.
He leans in and says something to her, then starts to walk away as she spins on her heel and heads off into the crowd.
He’s only made a few steps when another girl, one I recognize, grabs his arm and pulls him to a stop.
He’s closer now, and I can just make out his expression as he leans in as she says something, then he smiles at her as he nods.
A flash of what I can only describe as possession bubbles up in my chest as Becca moves right into his personal space and drapes her arms over his shoulders.
Damon loosely holds her around the waist as they dance together, and I zero in on the smooth sway of his hips and the graceful arch of his back as he moves, completely ignoring the gorgeous girl in his arms and the barely there white bodycon dress she’s wearing.
Almost as if my feet are moving of their own volition, I walk forward, stopping when I’m just inside the throng of dancers.
I’m close enough to see glints of the silver jewelry he’s wearing in his lip and nose piercings, and a prism of colors radiating off his crystal earrings every time the light catches them.
Slowly, like he senses me watching him, Damon turns his head and looks at me. I still can’t see his eyes, but I know he’s looking right at me by how he misses the beat and struggles for a moment to catch it again.