Stalking Her: A Safe Stalker Romance Page 2

  “One kiss,” I breathe, and as I speak, my lips peck against hers.

  She moans, and it comes deep from within her chest. “Yes.”

  She hooks her legs tighter around me, and I pull her in closer as I touch my lips firmly to hers. I meant to take it slow, to cherish the taste of her on my lips, but instead, it’s like a frenzy, and I can’t get close enough. Her hands are squeezing my neck, and her breasts are smashed to my chest. She’s moving in my arms, creating friction between our bodies, and still I can’t stop. I take a few more seconds of the sweetest pleasure I’ve ever known before pulling my mouth from hers. With a sharp groan, I release her and set her back on the floor. My body has reacted like I knew it would. I’m hard, harder than I’ve ever been, and I physically feel ill that I’ve pushed her away, but I know it’s what I need to do.

  I turn away because I know that’s the only way I’m going to be able to walk out of here right now. “I’ll see you, Angel.”

  “My name is Brooke.”

  With the door open, I look at her. “I know your name… but you’re my Angel.”

  And with that, I leave. I can’t wait for the elevator. I go to the end of the hall and all but run to the stairway. I need to put some distance between us before I do something stupid… like take from her exactly what I want.

  3

  Brooke

  A week. Almost a whole week goes by, and he still hasn’t talked to me. The night he left, I barely slept at all. All I could think about was that kiss. I wanted more, but it was like he couldn’t wait to get away from me. I just don’t get it. I thought the kiss was good. Heck with that – it was the best. At least for me it was. But obviously he didn’t feel the same.

  I’ve done my best to put him out of my head, but everything makes me think of him. I see a man with longer hair, I think of Lane. I see a man with a beard and I remember the way the stubble on his chin scratched my face when he kissed me. I see a man with tattoos and it makes me wonder about the ones I haven’t seen on Lane but I know he has. Everything makes me think of him.

  The next day and every day since I’ve seen him. He’s still following me. I saw him at the grocery store, outside my yoga class, and my work. I thought he would come up to me, say hi or something, but he didn’t. As soon as I would notice him, he seemed to disappear in the shadows. Almost to the point where I was beginning to wonder if I imagined seeing him.

  By Friday night, I’ve had enough. My friends are going to the club on Saturday, but I didn’t want to wait another day, and I didn’t want any distractions from my plan. So here I am, back at Blaze and alone this time.

  I’m watching him and see the first time he notices me. He’s shocked but seems to recover quickly. He stares at me from across the room, and I wait for him to acknowledge me with a nod, a wave, anything. But I get nothing except for a heated look. Even from where I’m sitting I can feel how much he wants me. So why is he acting as if he doesn’t?

  “Do you want to dance?”

  I drag my gaze from Lane and up at the man standing next to my chair. He’s tall, handsome, and dressed impeccably. “What?” I ask him over the music.

  “Do you want to dance?” he asks me.

  I stare up at him and admittedly if I had met him a few weeks ago, prior to Lane, I would probably say yes. But now, I can’t even look at him without comparing him to my gruff but gentle stalker. Unable to resist, I look at Lane. He’s staring a hole in me, and the demanding look he’s giving me makes my spine tremble. He wants me. He may not want to admit it for some reason, but he wants me.

  “Sorry. I can’t. I’m waiting on someone,” I tell the man apologetically. At least I didn’t lie. I am waiting on a man; however, it’s more like I’m waiting on him to come to his senses than anything else.

  The guy shrugs. “Maybe another time.”

  I don’t give him a yes or no, just a smile before he turns and walks away. I can physically see Lane relax as the man walks away from me, but he still doesn’t come my way.

  I go and dance… and he watches me.

  I order a drink and take sips, savoring the flavor as it hits my tongue… and he watches me. His eyes never leave me, and just knowing that has my panties soaked and me squirming in my seat.

  I order another drink – a shot for courage. And as soon as the bartender sets down the short glass of tequila, I down in it one shot. The liquid burns going down my throat, and I suck air as if that’s going to cool it. Taking a deep breath, I stand up and march toward Lane. He may not want to talk to me, but I want to talk to him.

  I should be nervous. I’m not the type of girl that goes after a man. But this is different. I’ve had a taste of him, and now I want more. I’m fed up with the cat-and-mouse game we seem to be playing, and it seems he wants to follow me around but that’s it.

  I stop right in front of him, the toes of my strappy heels almost on top of his black boots. I put my hands to my hips and cock my hip out. I have all the confidence in the world at work and in the courtroom, but here, in the bar with my plus-size curves, I have to fake it to make it.

  “Thank you for helping me last week,” I tell him.

  He points to his ear, letting me know he can’t hear me. I grip the soft T-shirt material of his black shirt and scrunch it between my fingers, bringing him down closer to me so I can talk into his ear. “I said, thank you for helping me last week.”

  He’s nodding as he turns his head to speak into my ear. “How’s your hand?”

  “Good,” I tell him. He nods again but doesn’t say anything else. He pulls back, looking at me expectantly.

  The only thing that eggs me on is the way his heart is beating rapidly under my palm and his nostrils are flared. When I figure out that he’s not going to ask me out or say anything for that matter, I take it into my own hands.

  “Will you go out with me?”

  He’s about to say yes. I can see the interest in his eyes, but just as quickly he tamps it down. “I can’t. I have to work.”

  That wasn’t the answer I was hoping for. I rear back from him a little, and my feet get tangled underneath me. I almost fall to my ass, but at the last minute, Lane is leaning over me and holding me to him. Our faces are mere inches apart, and he’s staring at me longingly. The music is thumping around us, and flashes of light are dancing across the room, but he’s looking so deep into my eyes I can’t look away. Someone bumps into me, and he puts one arm out to block the guy and other one tightens around me in a protective hold, pulling me against his hard chest.

  “Do… you get a break?” I ask him breathlessly. And then, realizing he probably can’t hear me, I pull him in close. My lips graze the curve of his ear, and his body shudders against mine. “How about a break? Do you get one of them tonight?”

  He nods.

  I unwind myself from his arms and point to my seat I had just left. “Great. I’ll wait. I want to talk to you on your break.” And before he can answer, I walk away, finally releasing the breath that I didn’t know I was holding.

  I sit with my legs crossed and watch him. Week after week he watched me, and now it’s my turn. I’m not shy about it, or blush and look away like I have in the past. No, this time, I’m watching him like I own him, like he’s already mine.

  He works the crowd but never seems to go far. No matter where he’s at, he always looks back at me like he’s worried that I’ll disappear. I do my best to keep my eyes on his face, but that’s hard to do. He has a body that men are jealous of and women want. He’s strong and confident with an air of cockiness that pulls people in.

  I slide my thighs together and know that my panties are soaked he’s that damn fine. He walks past me, and his eyes are on me the whole time. I can’t look away, and when he walks by I stare at the way his jeans hug his ass. He walks by the next table, and a drunk woman leans out of her chair and pinches Lane’s ass. Instantly, I’m pissed. Who the hell does that woman think she is? Jealousy burns inside me, and my first instinct is to give the woman a piece of my mind.

  But I sit while rage builds inside me. I’m giving the evil eye to the woman, but it’s obvious she’s three sheets to the wind and doesn’t have a clue what she’s doing. Lane makes his rounds across the room, but it isn’t long before he starts walking back my way. I want to watch him, but the drunk woman next to me is loud and giggly as she gets excited about his approach. I can already guess what she’s going to do before it happens, and right then and there I decide it’s not going to happen – not on my watch. When Lane gets close, he watches me curiously as I stand up, smoothing my skirt down my thighs. I move to the edge, and when he gets close, the woman hoots and hollers, leaning out to him.

  I step in front of her. “Don’t touch what’s not yours,” I tell her in the snootiest voice I can muster.

  The woman laughs, but her friends must know that I’m not joking around or the fact that Lane is standing at my back, his hands on my shoulders, because they pull the woman back into her chair. I can hear Lane behind me say, “I’m going on break.” And I assume he’s talking to the other bouncers, but I’m not going to take my eyes off the she-devil, not when she’s this close.

  Lane pulls me with him and hustles me across the room. He doesn’t say anything, and his grip is tight on my hand. Tugging me into an office, he shuts the door and pushes me against it. “What are you doing?”

  Well, shit. He looks mad. Is it because he didn’t want me to interfere? Maybe he wanted that woman to touch him. “What do you mean, what am I doing?”

  He leans down real close until I can feel his hot breath on my cheek. “I mean you’ve been sitting on that stool watching me, every move I make. You almost got into a fight with some drunk chick.”

  I shrug my shoulders. “She shouldn’t have grabbe
d you,” I tell him.

  “And… and you’ve been sliding your legs together like you need the friction, as if you’re imagining me between those sweet thighs.” He leans in and takes a deep breath. “Fuck, Angel. I can smell you. Is that for me?”

  I don’t even give in to the embarrassment I should feel. Yeah, it’s for him. I’ve never wanted someone so much in all my life. But I don’t answer his questions. I ask my own. “How long have you watched me? I saw you outside my apartment building, outside my work and at the gym. You follow me all the time… but you act like you don’t want me.” I slide my hands up his chest and curl my fingers into his shirt. “My question is… how many times have you stroked your cock thinking of me?”

  4

  Lane

  I drop my head and rest my forehead on hers. Hearing cock from her sexy lips is going to be my undoing. I’ve done all I can to stay away from her. Yes, following her, watching her is an addiction. But I could have kept doing that and only that. Until she touched me. Now I know I need more. Watching her is not going to be enough.

  “Yes, I watched you. Because I couldn’t not watch you. You’re like a drug to me,” I admit to her and wait for disgust or even fear to cross her face. I wait for her to pull away from me and run from the room. But she doesn’t. Her face brightens, and she slides her hands around my neck.

  Her lips touch mine, and I forget to breathe. I’ve dreamed of this moment a thousand times, and it’s here. I don’t want to scare her, but my hands tighten at her waist, not trusting myself not to deepen the kiss even though that’s exactly what I want to do.

  “I like it when you watch me. Do you want to watch me now?” she asks me softly, her chest rising and falling in little pants. I know I must be mistaken, she’s not going to undress here, but then she starts to do exactly that. She starts at the buttons on her shirt. Slowly, she undoes each one, and by the time she’s at the last one, my cock is hard and lengthening in my pants.

  She pulls the silky material from her body before tossing it to a chair. Her black bra is lacy and barely contains her large breasts. She reaches behind her, and it’s then I realize I’m standing here with my mouth hanging open. I slam it shut, and she pauses.

  “Do you want me to stop?”

  My throat is thick, and I don’t think I can manage the words, so I shake my head side to side. Keep going, my head is screaming. I don’t want her to stop until I’m pounding so deep inside her that I don’t know where I end and she begins.

  She undoes her bra, and her large, heavy breasts spill from the silky material. Instantly I reach for her, cupping her, running my fingers over her taut, rosy nipples. She gasps but arches her back, pressing her breasts firmly into my hands.

  She unzips the back of her skirt and lets the material fall down her legs. She picks it up, just to toss it with her shirt, and I can’t take my eyes off her. I’ve imagined this a thousand times, but even my imagination has not done her justice.

  She’s got curves. Fuck, my balls clench painfully, does she have curves. I gaze at her up and down, and the longer I stand here, the more I want her. Because I can’t stop myself, I grip her hips, loving the feel of the silky material of her panties but knowing I need them gone. “Off.” I grunt at her, putting my fingers into each side of her panties and pulling them down her legs. I fall to my knees, and her creamy pussy is right in front of me. She’s standing, naked, with only a pair of heels on her feet and pearls around her neck. I inhale deeply, knowing she’s already wet for me. She wants this.

  She’s staring at me, and I can tell she’s wondering what I’m going to do next. With my hands on her hips, I grip her tightly. “Spread your legs.”

  I wait to see how she’s going to react to my demands, but she makes me proud when she opens her legs to me. Her hands go to my shoulders, and as I move in, my face nuzzling her most secret place, she grips on to me tightly.

  I run my tongue through her wet, swollen slit. She groans, going on her tiptoes like she’s trying to get away, but she doesn’t realize it. She’s offered herself to me, and I’m taking it. I’m going to make sure she never forgets this.

  The taste of her on my tongue makes my whole body quiver in need. I raise one of her legs and lift it over my shoulder, giving me better access. I go straight for her clit because I want to please her, and I want her to come undone in my arms. I want her begging for mercy. I wrap my lips around her clit. The sound of the back of her head hitting the door as she tosses it back vibrates around the room. Her hands have moved to my head, her fingers threading through my hair as she holds me to her and moves her hips in circles. I pleasure her like my life depends on it. Any time she pleases herself, I want her to wish it was me instead. I want to be the touch she needs, the one she craves.

  She comes with her leg wrapped around my neck like a vise. She floods my face, and I lap it up, reveling in the taste of her.

  I lift her leg and set it to the ground. Rising from the floor, I kiss my way up her body. My cock aches, and there’s nothing on this earth that is going to please me more than getting inside her tight snatch.

  I cup her chin tenderly, forcing her to look at me. Her eyes are heavy, but she looks satisfied. “I need to be inside you.”

  “Yes,” she moans.

  I pull her up into my arms, and she groans. “I’m too heavy.”

  Suckling her neck, I reluctantly pull away. I won’t let her say shit like that. “No. You’re perfect.”

  I walk with her across the room and set her on the edge of the desk. Instantly, her legs part, and she’s like a fuckin’ wet dream, legs open, her pussy glistening from her recent climax. With the taste of her on my lips, I unbutton my jeans and yank down my zipper. I’m hard. So hard for her.

  I pull down my pants to my knees, wishing I’d taken the time to remove my shoes, but it’s too late for that. I’m going to come soon, and I want it to be inside her, bareback so I can feel her tighten all around me.

  “Oh God!” she whispers loudly as she draws her knees together.

  No way. Fuck that. I push in between her legs to hold them open. I stroke my hand up and then down my hard length. “It’s going to fit. That pussy was made just for me, Angel, and I need it.”

  Brooke

  He’s big. Too big. It’s probably going to hurt, but I don’t care. There’s no way I can get up and walk out of this room until I’ve had him inside me. I reach for him, wanting to touch his soft, velvet length, but he jerks his hips from me.

  “No. Not now. I’ll come in your hand and that’s not what I want. I want inside you, filling your womb.”

  His words are dirty and explicit, but I’m not surprised. I knew that sex with Lane wouldn’t be like anything I’ve ever felt before. “I’m on the pill and I’m clean.”

  “I’m clean. I’d never do anything to hurt you.” He’s cupping my face, looking at me like he’s not going to continue until I believe what he’s saying. What he doesn’t understand is that I already know he wouldn’t hurt me. I don’t know how, but I do.

  “I know,” I tell him, pulling his face closer to mine. “I need you, Lane.”

  He reaches between us and strokes his length along my wet folds. With each brush of his cock along my clit, I lift my hips, wanting more. “You like that, Angel?”

  “Yes,” I moan as he does it again.

  “Good. That’s good,” he says as he lines himself up and pushes slowly inside me. My insides are sucking him in, and when he pulls out slowly before thrusting back in, I’m overcome with all the emotion. Every bit of it.

  I wrap my arms around his neck, wanting to be closer, and obviously he does too, because he lifts me up off the desk and continues thrusting inside me. Over and over, he pounds into me, and all I can do is take it. My whole body is on fire, and I can feel myself tautening again as another orgasm starts to peak. “I need you to come, Angel. Come for me.”

  And with his hard cock pummeling me, his deep voice commanding me, I come at the same time he explodes inside me.