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As I return my attention to the files on my desk, the image of Summer invades my mind – her gentle smile, the warmth in her eyes, and the way she makes me feel alive just by existing. And although I know it’s wrong to invade her privacy, I can’t shake the overwhelming need to keep her safe and close to me.
The dark, forbidden desire for her courses through my veins like a drug I can’t resist. This dangerous game we play is all-consuming, and I’m powerless to stop it. For now, I’ll continue to walk the fine line between obsession and protection until I make her mine.
Opening my laptop, anticipation claws at my insides like a caged animal. As the screen flickers to life, I enter the password to access the hidden footage of Summer’s home. My chest tightens as the images fill the screen – she’s so close, yet still so far away.
“Boss?” Mark, my right-hand man, interrupts me. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing to do with you,” I reply curtly, refusing to tear my eyes away from the screen. Knowing she is at work and not likely to be home anytime soon, I still can’t tear my eyes away from her private space.
“Is this really necessary, Ciarán?” Mark asks, concern lacing his tone as he leans over my shoulder and puts two and two together. “Installing cameras in her home...it seems like an invasion of privacy.”
“Privacy is a luxury she can’t afford,” I snap, my gaze never leaving the screen. “There are people out there who want to hurt her, and I won’t let that happen.”
“Look, I understand wanting to protect her, but this might be crossing a line,” Mark presses, his voice calm and steady.
“Then let it be crossed,” I growl, my knuckles white as I grip the edge of the desk. “She’s too important to me, Mark. You wouldn’t understand.”
“Maybe not,” he concedes, sighing heavily. “But just remember, there’s a fine line between protection and obsession.”
“Are you implying that I’m obsessed with her?” I challenge, finally tearing my gaze away from the screen to glare at him.
“Maybe.” He shrugs, unfazed by my anger. “Just don’t lose yourself in the process, Ciarán. It’s a slippery slope.”
“Your concern is touching, but unnecessary,” I retort, returning to the screen. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have work to do.”
“Fine.” Mark retreats, his footsteps echoing through the warehouse as he leaves me alone with my dangerous desires.
A fierce possessiveness swells as I turn back to the screen. She’s mine – she just doesn’t know it yet. And with every passing moment, the line between protection and obsession blurs further, immersing us in its dark embrace.
As the minutes tick by, my impatience grows. Finally, the front door swings open, and there she is – Summer, beautiful and radiant as ever. Relief washes over me as I take in the sight of her, safe and sound. My heart races, and my dark desires whisper in the back of my mind.
As she moves further inside, I track her every step, my protective instincts on high alert.
I can’t pull my eyes away from the screen. Summer is an addiction I can’t resist – a forbidden fruit that tempts me, taunts me, teases me.
I’m trapped in a game far more dangerous than any I’ve played before. And with each passing moment, I can feel the darkness closing in, threatening to swallow us both.
Summer moves through her home with an air of ease, unaware of the danger lurking just beneath the surface. PC Dunsten told her I’d fled the country after an arrest warrant was issued. She believes him and is relaxed now that she thinks I’m gone from her life. But little does she know this is just the beginning.
11
SUMMER
The fabric is soft and smooth in my hands as I fold the clothes neatly on the counter. The shop is quiet today, allowing me to focus on my work and let my thoughts drift away.
That nice PC Dunsten was so helpful and called me yesterday to tell me that they had an arrest out for Ciarán, but they’d had word he’d fled back to Ireland.
Good riddance.
A weight has been lifted from my shoulders, and returning to work was easy for me this morning.
“Hey, Summer,” a familiar voice says from behind me, snapping me back to reality.
Turning, I see Gary, my hot co-worker. He’s got that boy-next-door look that I love – tousled blonde hair, dimples when he smiles, and bright green eyes. His approach sends a slight shiver down my spine.
“Hi, Gary.” I manage a smile, trying to pull myself together enough not to stammer my way through another conversation with him. I stood up to Ciarán, and I won. I can talk to my crush like a human being, no problem.
“Working hard?” he asks, leaning against the counter with an easy smirk.
