Page 30 of Watched

When I called the police two days ago, I refrained from going inside until they’d thoroughly inspected the house. They dusted the door handles and looked for any DNA.

Nothing. Not a single fingerprint or strand of hair.

He’d cleaned up. Not just put away a few things that haven’t been a priority—he cleaned everything, including my bed sheets. He wiped every surface, mopped my floor, organised my fridge, and scrubbed my bathroom. He even went as far as to hang new curtains in my bedroom.

I’d left at 5 AM to start my day and changed away from home before meeting my family for lunch, leaving him with eight hours to do everything, including place a new bouquet of white lilies on my dining table.

“Please,” I beg. “Just…leave.”

The last thing I want to do is call the police and ruin this for Indie. She’s the lead performer this year, something she’s been working on for five years. If this performance goes well, and she can impress the company scouts attending, she could go professional next year.

“Now,” I order through gritted teeth and turn to walk away.

A strong hand grips mine, and I’m ripped back around. Flowers drop to the floor, and he snatches my startled face. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as I’m shoved back against the wall, the force knocking the air from my lungs. His body invades my space, and I raise a hand to push at his chest, my own rising and falling rapidly.

His soft lips capture mine. My lungs lock, and my lids fall shut as a forceful wave crashes through me, buckling my knees. His groan draws my own as his tongue slides past my lips, forcing its way into my mouth.

For a moment….one moment…I ball the soft cotton of his jacket in my hands and slide my tongue against his.

Dick pressed against my zipper, I force myself into reality and push him back. As I gasp for air, his eyes flick around my face before holding steady on my lips. He pants, his bruising hold on my cheeks tightening as he tries to pull me back in.

“N-no,” I stumble over the two letters and grip his wrists, trying to pry his warm hands from my burning face.

His jaw pulses, and he exhales a frustrated breath before finally releasing me. Swiping the flowers from the ground, he gently extends them to me.

“No.” I firm the syllable this time, still trying to breathe through the adrenaline.

“Fine.” He stalks to the bin to throw them away. “I’ll be sure to purchase a bigger bouquet next time.”

“I’ve missed enough of her dance.” I look toward the foyer to ensure no one saw. “Please leave so I can go support my sister.”

“I’m staying. I happen to be a fan of ballet.”

“Bullshit.”

He invades my space with his woodsy scent, eyes narrowed. “It’s your parents, isn’t it? They make you feel like shit for who you are? The only thing stiffer than you around them is my cock around you.”

“Leave.”

He steps past me, and I inhale sharply when his fingers brush mine. “I’m staying. Now, let’s go watch your sister put the other dancers to shame.”

I bite my still-tingling lip as he confidently walks toward the door and holds it open, dark eyes ordering me back into the theatre.

Unless I knock him out and drag him out of here, I know he won’t leave. Just sitting beside him won’t draw any suspicion…right?

A hand shoves my shoulder, pushing me down into his seat in the corner as Rain steps past to take mine. My still-racing heart skips when his jacket drops to cover my lap and half of his. Doing the best I can not to draw attention, I grip his hand sliding onto my thigh beneath the fabric.

He arches a dark brow as his hand squeezes my thigh. My dick jumps as the heat from his touch spreads throughout my already sweltering body. Sliding my hand under his, I interlace our fingers.

If holding his hand will cease its wondering, then so be it.

“Mmm,” he hums quietly, the heat of his breath fanning my cheek. “Are you hard, baby?”

“No,” I lie.

His hand pulls. I grip it tighter, digging my fingers between his knuckles.

“Harder,” he growls quietly.