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“I get it, babe. I fucking hate it, but I understand why you did it,” he says, his hand rubbing soothing circles on my back. “But I’m not going to lie, I’m jealous as fuck.”
I laugh and can’t resist burying my face into his chest, his ink be damned. “I’m sorry,” I whisper into the darkened hallway. “You know I wish it were only you.”
“You know what?” he says, a teasing tone in his voice that has me pulling back and lifting my gaze to him. “If you want to make it up to me, you could always keep this little number for me.”
I can’t help but laugh. “This dude has got excellent taste.”
“That he does,” Alex agrees, his cock stiffening against my waist as his fingers brush over my skin. “Though, I can’t lie. I’m curious to know exactly what he did to you.”
My tongue rolls over my deep-red lips. “Instead of telling you,” I whisper, my fingers dragging down his body and clutching onto the waistband of his basketball shorts. “Why don’t I just show you?”
His gaze darkens, and not a second later, his lips are crushing down on mine as he drags me into his apartment, kicking the door closed behind us.
34
KYAH
Mygazelingersonthe subtle bruises that are just starting to appear on my hips after my insane night with my stalker, and I really don’t know how to feel about it. Am I wrong for absolutely loving it? Yeah, he kinda terrifies me, but the sexual thrill I get with him is wildly addictive, and I hate how much I crave it. But what I hate more is how it gives me conflicting thoughts about being with Alex.
I want to keep him safe, but at the same time, I want to spend every last moment with him. There’s no denying it any longer; I’ve fallen madly in love with the cocky bastard next door, and I know we haven’t been seeing each other long enough to really know that, but I feel it. This one is different.
His smile, the way he smells, the way he can so effortlessly throw me up against a wall and tell me exactly what he wants to do with me, but also knowing exactly when I need him to shelve the dominant bullshit and be the man who holds me when my world is falling apart.
He’s slipped right into my life, and now, I can’t imagine having to go a single day without seeing him. He’s everything, and for the first time, I’m starting to plan for the future, want things I’ve never wanted before, but if this were to fail, if he doesn’t feel the same way . . . shit. I’ll be devastated. Though, I suppose that’s not exactly at the top of my list of priorities right now. You know, considering I’m dealing with a stalker who may or may not be a murderous psychopath.
Fucking hell. How did I get myself into this mess?
I have so many questions for my stalker. Why me? How did he even find me? How long has this been going on? It’s insane. Every time he sneaks through my window, I’m left with even more questions. But mostly, what I really need to know is what he plans on doing with me. Is he just screwing around, enjoying the thrill of welcoming himself into my apartment and loving how I like to play along, or is this leading up to something? Am I in more danger than I could ever know?
Crap. My hands start to shake.
I’m in big trouble here. I’m going to end up on the news.
A heavy pounding sounds at my door, and my back stiffens. It’s almost nine on a Sunday night. Who the hell would be trying to break down my door? You know, apart from Alex, but he doesn’t usually use a knock that could wake the dead.
Fixing my shirt back into place to cover the bruises, I make my way out into the living room, the heavy pounding booming through my small apartment, and while I would usually call out, telling the person that I was coming, I also don’t feel as though I should be alerting someone to the fact I’m here. What if this is a break-in? Just like what happened at High Voltage Ink the night Crew died.
Creeping toward the door, I peer through the small peephole and let out a heavy breath as I find two of Viper’s men, Spider and Fuse. Both of them have been my clients, though I haven’t worked on Fuse in a while because, apart from his dick, I don’t think he has even an inch of available skin left on his body.
“Open the door, Kyah,” Spider grumbles, not the type to be kept waiting. “I know you’re in there.”
Shit.
Before he gets the chance to kick the door down, I twist the locks and release the deadbolt before finally reaching for the handle. I open the door, and before I can even ask what they want, they push past me, striding into my apartment as though they have every right to be here.
Fuse kicks the door closed behind me as Spider glances over my cameras. “Ummm . . . someone wanna tell me why the hell you’re here?”
Spider reluctantly looks back toward me and pulls his phone out of his pocket. “I’ve been looking into what you said, about having a stalker—”
“Really?” I say, cutting him off as my back stiffens, wondering if this is when I finally start to get some answers.
His gaze sharpens, clearly not appreciating being cut off. He holds my stare, a clear warning in his eyes to keep my mouth shut until I’ve been invited to talk. I swallow hard. I’ve only met Spider a handful of times, and he was pleasant enough, but since Viper’s death, he’s been promoted to Vice President of the Grim Reapers, and I assume a position like that doesn’t come without hardships.
“You said your security system we installed was fucked,” he continues, and not wanting to open my mouth out of turn, I simply nod. “But that doesn’t make sense. You have one of the best systems money can buy. Viper made sure of it. He wanted his old lady safe.”
“I wasn’t his old lady,” I supply before immediately cursing myself out. How stupid can I be?
Spider just glares at me again. “In his eyes, you were, so as far as the rest of us are concerned, you’re part of our family, and we protect our own,” he states. “But I’ve been looking into it. At the clubhouse the other night you mentioned someone’s been coming into your apartment, but the cameras and the alarm aren’t picking it up.”
