Stalking Her: A Safe Stalker Romance Read online

  Stalking Her

  Hope Ford

  Contents

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  1. Brooke

  2. Lane

  3. Brooke

  4. Lane

  5. Lane

  6. Lane

  Epilogue

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  About the Author

  Stalking Her © 2021 by Hope Ford

  Editor: Kasi Alexander

  Cover Design: Mayhem Creations

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  1

  Brooke

  I have a stalker.

  I should be scared. I should probably tell someone. But I’m not going to. It would be different if I thought he wanted to hurt me. But I’m pretty sure he doesn’t. As a matter of fact, I think he wants me.

  I’m trying not to be obvious, but it’s impossible. I’m searching for him and won’t be satisfied until I get to see him. It’s like I feel agitated and on edge and I don’t know why. He’s a stranger. Well, mostly. This is the third Saturday in a row that I’ve come to Blaze. It’s a night club, and night clubs are not my thing.

  I’m an attorney; actually, I just recently graduated law school and have just started at Simon, Schwartz, and Teller. I have my first big case coming up in a few months, and I should be home preparing, but instead I’m here with two women from the office. They are attorneys but have more experience than me. The first time they asked me to come with them, I agreed because I knew I needed to play nice with my coworkers. But now, I’m coming for a completely different reason.

  Lane Davis. He’s a bouncer. Head security for Blaze. I noticed him the first time I came here, and he watched me every second. Every move I made, his eyes were on me.

  “That one’s cute,” Brenda says, interrupting my thoughts when she points at a man standing a few feet away. “And there’s three of them,” she says happily.

  I barely resist rolling my eyes. Brenda and Cassie are both tall and thin. If they ever decide to quit their day job, they could quite literally make a living as models. And then there’s me. I’m short and curvy and their exact opposite. She always finds three guys for us to dance with, and I hate seeing the disappointed look on the third one’s face when he discovers that he didn’t get Brenda or Cassie. No, he got me. The short, frumpy one.

  “Yeah, cute,” I remark, just so they don’t notice that I could care less about the three clean-cut guys they’re looking at. I’m in search of my tall, dark, tattooed stalker.

  Lane’s never said a word to me. He still hasn’t. But he’s so far under my skin it doesn’t even matter. After the first time I saw him, the next day I noticed him at the grocery store. Since then, I’ve seen him outside my office, my apartment building, and the gym. He never says a word. Just watches me.

  I freaked out a little bit at first and can admit I was scared. I know he could have been a psycho or something, but my gut was telling me different. I called Blaze, and with the description I gave them, they were able to give me his name. He’s head of security, and I have no doubt it would get back to him that I was asking about him, but I didn’t care. I had to know.

  Next, I called my sister-in-law. She’s a police officer, and I knew she would help me. I didn’t tell her why but asked her to look into him. She asked me what all I needed to know, and I told her anything she could find. Well, she didn’t disappoint. She came back to me in less than an hour. Lane Davis, thirty-two years old, no criminal record. He received a parking ticket three years ago but looks like it was paid the same day it was issued. He’s divorced. Finalized two years ago. Records indicate infidelity.

  I texted her back, holding my breath. “He cheated?”

  And her response was immediate. “No. She cheated.”

  From that moment on, I decided to go with my gut. Lane is nothing like the men I’ve dated in the past. He’s not clean-cut. He’s not goofy or vain or way too into himself. No, it seems he’s way into me. And that’s why I’m here at Blaze again. I’m going to get him to talk to me one way or another.

  I look at the door that leads to the back, and suddenly he appears. He doesn’t look around like he usually does; his gaze goes straight to me, and I melt in my seat. I swear when he looks at me it’s like he’s burning a hole in me. Instead of blushing and looking away like I normally do, I look at him as if I’m challenging him. How can I convey in a look that I want him to talk to me? Heck, I will take anything with him.

  He crosses his arms over his chest and stares right back.

  I feel a nudge in my side and a whispered yell in my ear. “They’re coming over.”

  Reluctantly, I drag my gaze from Lane and look at the three preppy guys in the button-down shirts as they walk toward the table.

  All three of them are looking between Brenda and Cassie, which is fine because I want to look at Lane. I’m about to excuse myself and walk over when Lane touches his ear, like he’s listening to something from the earpiece, and turns quickly on his feet. He walks three feet in the opposite direction before turning to look at me. Even from across the room with a fleeting look, he commands all my attention. I know that look. It’s almost like I can feel him saying it in my ear. Don’t move.

  Too bad I’m not a girl that listens because it hits me then… I know how I’m going to get him to talk to me. Every time someone has asked me to dance, I’ve said no. Well, not today. No, today I’m going to the dance floor. If he doesn’t like it, he’ll have to come and get me. And damn do I want him to come and get me.

  “All right – so who wants to dance?” I ask.

  Brenda and Cassie are immediately out of their seats and grabbing on to the guys that are closest to them. The man in the middle at least has the decency to hide his disappointment as he waits for me to come around the table.

  He puts his hand at the small of my back, and I pick up speed. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. Him dancing with me is one thing. Him touching me is another.

  The music is loud and bumping, and I can’t keep from moving if I try. I look over my dance partner’s shoulder and all around for a glance of Lane. Then I look up on the balcony, but he’s nowhere to be seen. Determined and knowing he can be looking at me from anywhere in the club, watching me right now, I dance. I dip my hips, shake my butt, and let the music move me. I’m all but lost in the song when I feel hands on my hips. My whole body freezes. My dance partner has moved up on me and is grinding against me. I pull away, and knowing he can’t hear me, I shake my head side to side, letting him know that I don’t want him to touch me.

  I continue to dance, but with less butt shaking. When the man reaches for me again, this time I stop and make sure he can hear me. “I’m not interested.”

  I look at Brenda and Cassie, and they’re dancing with their partners, so I walk off. I’m going to go to the ladies’ room and then to get another drink. I’m almost to the bathroom when I’m pulled in the opposite direction and backed into a wall.

  It takes me a second to catch my breath, but when I do, I’m pushing against the asshole’s chest. “I told you I’m not interested.”

  But he’s not letting me loose. He uses his body to hold me against the wall, and I can feel his hard manhood pressed into my belly. I feel sick and try to push him off me. People are walking by, but to them it probably looks like we’re making out. He’s so much
bigger than me, I can’t do anything but relax my body and give him the idea that I’m into it. Only then does he loosen his hold enough to lean back so he can look into my face. As soon as he lets his guard down, I give him a shove and then punch him in the face.

  I try to keep wailing on him, but he catches my arms. He smiles a lethal smile that tells me he’s getting off on the fact that I’m fighting back. He brings his hand back, and it’s then I know he’s going to hit me. I clench my eyes shut as I try to wrestle away from him.

  2

  Lane

  My girl didn’t listen. And even though I’ve never talked to her or even touched her, she’s my girl.

  There was an incident at the door, and one of the guards needed back-up. I left my spot of watching Brooke after giving her the look, telling her not to move. But she didn’t listen. She and her friends are gone from they had been sitting. I look over the balcony and spot her friends, but Brooke is nowhere to be seen.

  I walk through the club searching for her. I talk into the mic. “Any eyes on Angel?” That’s right. They all know Brooke is mine. They’ve all helped me keep an eye on her just because there’ve been times I couldn’t leave and needed to make sure she made it home safe. So everyone knows Angel, and they know she’s mine.

  “Fuck, Lane. I saw her go toward the bathroom, but I just got called to the bar for a skipped tab so I had to leave her.” Mike’s voice is on edge and it’s no doubt because he knows how hung up on Angel I am.

  “I got her,” I grunt into the mic.

  I push people in the crowd to make my way to the hallway that leads to the bathrooms. There’s a lot of people, but just like any other time, I find her easily. She’s struggling in the arms of a man, and I run full speed to them. “What the fuck?” I say, just as I put my hand out to stop the man from swinging and hitting her.

  I recognize him as one of the yuppie assholes that was watching her earlier, and I start to pummel him without any thought to anything except making sure he’s never able to touch her again.

  “Lane! Stop. You’re going to kill him,” my Angel says as she tries to come between me and the man lying on the floor.

  She puts her hand to my heaving chest. I put the mic to my mouth. “Clean up in the hallway. And make sure he learns a lesson for touching Angel.”

  “On it,” Mike says. “She okay?”

  And the fact that I can hear the concern in his voice is the only thing that’s going to stop me from firing his ass. He knows how important Angel is to me, and there’s supposed to be eyes on her at all times.

  “Yes. She’s fine. I got her.”

  People are all standing around, videoing and taking pictures. Brooke stands behind me. “I can’t be on the news for this.”

  Fuck, in my endeavor to protect her, it seems I’ve fucked up. She’s an up-and-coming attorney, and she sure as shit can’t be surrounded by all of this.

  “I’m leaving. Hold down the fort. I’ll be back,” I say into the mic as I hustle Brooke out the back door.

  I stop in the alley and watch her. She’s holding her hand in front of her. “You okay?”

  She nods. “Yeah, I got one punch in, but obviously I’m not a fighter.” She holds her hand out, and her knuckles are red and bruised.

  I tense, debating on going back in there, and she must realize it because she shakes her head. “He’s not worth it.”

  “Can I take you home?”

  I wait for her to refuse. No doubt she’s going to, but she surprises me when she says yes. “Let me just text Brenda and Cassie so they are on the lookout in case that guy’s friends are asses too.”

  She takes her phone out of her back pocket and starts to text. I walk her to my truck and help her inside. She’s on her phone most of the ride. “I’m sorry. They’re worried about me.”

  “It’s no problem,” I tell her. Honestly, I’m glad she has friends looking out for her.

  She’s quiet the whole way until I’m pulling up to her apartment building.

  She gets out before I can say anything, and I meet her at the front of my truck. She’s still holding her hand, but she’s looking at me curiously. “Are we going to talk about the fact that you know where I live?”

  I debate on answering her truthfully for only a second, and then decide against it. There’s nothing good that can come from the fact that I’m her stalker. But I can’t lie to her. “I’d rather not.”

  She’s watching me. She’s standing so close to me her head is bent back so she can look up into my face. This is the closest we’ve been to each other, and I’m breathing her in, hoping to commit her vanilla sugar scent to memory.

  She puts her hand on my chest. My heart is beating erratically, and I wonder if she can feel it. “Are you coming up?”

  I reach up and wrap my hand around hers. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her no when she flinches. I let her go and realize that I’d forgotten her hurt hand. “Yeah,” I grunt and then clear my throat. “Yeah, I’m coming up. I’m going to take care of that hand.”

  She turns then, and I follow her through the door. The doorman has it open for her, and he’s openly watching me in disgust. I’m sure he doesn’t get a lot of men in here that are covered in tattoos. The high dollar apartment building and snooty doorman is just another sign that Brooke, my Angel, is out of my league. Regardless, I nod at him and follow Brooke into the elevator. “I’m on the fifth floor,” she says, and then turns to look at me. “But you probably already know that.”

  I don’t answer her either way. Instead I stand next to her and swear I can feel the heat coming off her body. She takes a step closer to me, and my hand that is hanging at my side brushes along her jean-clad thigh. She sucks in a breath, and I clench my eyes tightly together to refrain from taking her right now against the elevator wall.

  She’s too good for you, Lane.

  The elevator dings, letting us know we have arrived just as the doors come open. I follow behind her and watch her ass swing from side to side. I’ve watched her walk a hundred times, and I know she’s swinging her hips with more effort tonight, and I know it’s just for me.

  She unlocks the door and pushes it open, and I follow her in. She drops her phone and keys on the counter and looks up at me. The look on her face is so hopeful, I know I need to get out of here before I do something that I can’t take back.

  “May I see your hand?”

  She holds it out to me instantly, and I hold it in both of mine, lifting it to the light. Luckily there is no skin broken. I push along her knuckles. “Does that hurt?”

  She shakes her head. “I don’t think it’s broken. Just bruised.”

  I walk over to the freezer and peek in. After rummaging, I pull out a bag of frozen peas. “You need to put this on it so the swelling will go down.”

  I wrap it in a dish towel hanging from a cabinet door and gesture to the table. She sits down on the edge of her seat, and I pull a chair out and sit down next to her. She’s already holding her hand out, and I gently put the frozen bag on her knuckles. “Is this okay?”

  She nods, staring up at me wide-eyed.

  “So I’m guessing that you know who I am,” she says.

  I don’t want to admit I do, but yeah, I know everything about her. Her family comes from old money. Wilson, the next town over, is where she’s from. Her family founded the city or some shit, and well, everyone knows who the Wilsons are. Just like anyone that knows her knows she’s too good for the likes of me.

  She’s still looking at me. “Yeah,” I mutter, “I know who you are.”

  She licks her lips, and I barely contain my groan. Images of her sweet, cherry lips wrapped around my cock are going through my head. My cock is lengthening in my pants, and I know I need to get out of here. I stand up, turning away from her before she sees what she’s doing to me. “I need to go.”

  I get up quickly and start for the door when the chair screeches across the floor, and I can feel her behind me. “Wait. You don’t have to g
o.”

  “I do. I should go.”

  “Well, let me pay you for driving me home.”

  That stops me, and I turn just for her to run into my chest with a loud umph. My hands go to her shoulders. “I’m not taking your money.”

  She blinks at my harsh tone. “I didn’t… I wasn’t trying to offend you.”

  Because I’m weak and have no control. Because she’s way too good for me and all I want is one taste and I know this is my only chance, I wrap my hand around her neck and bend her head back so she’s looking up at me. Her chest is heaving, and with each breath her nipples are brushing against me. “If you don’t want to offend me then don’t offer me money.”

  She bites her lip again, something I’ve noticed she does when she’s nervous. “Fine. I just wanted to thank you.”

  My hand slides up her neck, and I cup her cheek. Her eyes widen, and she’s staring at my lips. “You want to thank me?”

  She nods slowly.

  “Then let me kiss you. One kiss,” I all but grunt at her.

  I’m like a schoolboy, just about to blow my load in my pants, and all she’s done is stare up at me. I can only imagine if I saw her without her clothes or if she touched me.

  “Yes.” She breathes the word heavily.

  And that’s all it takes. I lean down until we are only inches apart. She’s staring at my lips, and I can see the hunger. She wants this. She either doesn’t know or doesn’t care how bad I am for her, because she wants it.

  “Open your mouth,” I demand.

  She does what she’s told. She’s on her tiptoes, but I still lift her up until she’s off the ground, and her legs go around my waist. Our breath is hot and mingling, but we still haven’t touched. It’s like a promise of exactly how good it’s going to be, and fuck, I hope I’m strong enough to stop with one kiss.