AllFreeNovel
Share Us
In the lobby of the building where I work, I dial a familiar number in France, the phone number of his parents, a number I still have memorized. I get a voicemail in French, so I leave a message, also speaking in French. “This is Camille. I just saw Bastien here, and he looks completely different because he’s had plastic surgery, but it’s him. I think he’s been breaking into my house. I just… I wanted to talk…”
I hear the click of someone picking up the phone, and I feel a momentary relief. Then I hear Emilie’s voice, and my blood turns to ice.
“Camille. You fucking bitch,” she says in English. “As if you haven’t done enough to my brother with your lies. Don’t ever call here again, or I will hunt you down and destroy you and your family. I will finish what I started. In fact, I may do it anyway, just for fun.”
I quickly hang up, tears springing to my eyes. Everyone thinks that Emilie is so sweet. Once upon a time, I thought she was one of my best friends. Then her crazy brother killed a cellar full of rats, and Emilie proceeded to ruin my life at school. Emilie has a cold, scary, single-minded side to her that she hides from most people quite brilliantly.
Just like Bastien.
I hate to do it, but I call into work and tell them there’s been a family emergency and I can’t come back in today. I wouldn’t be any good to my patients in my current state. The office manager does not sound happy, and she hangs up abruptly. I’m sure I’ll be jobless by tomorrow, but given my present circumstances, I can’t begin to care.
The weird events that have happened since I announced my wedding… he was behind all of them. I’m sure of it. It was his footsteps I heard that night. He broke into my house and walked around downstairs. He messed with my computer security cameras to hide the fact he’d been there. He was a computer genius back in school so that would be child’s play.
And he must have been the man who broke into my house the first time, causing me to get the security system put in.
The useless security system.
He slashed my tires. He moved things around in my house. He must have hacked my bank account so I wasn’t sending payments to the utility company and then erased the email notices they sent me.
I’m so panicked I can hardly breathe. I’m the target of a brilliant psychopath. The man I’ve been sexually obsessed with for the past ten years has followed me to America and wants to destroy me.
Trying not to cry, I call a hotel and reserve a room for the night. Then I walk twenty minutes to the garage where they’ve fixed my flat tire. I pay for the tire and drive to the hotel. I hold it together, just barely, until I walk into the room and shut the door. I drop my purse on a chair and burst into tears.
“Having a bad day, are we?” Bastien bursts out of the bathroom, nearly making my heart stop.
I gasp for air for several seconds, like a beached whale, before I finally remember how my lungs work. Then I run for the door. He’s on me in a flash, pinning me against the wall.
“Oh God,” I sob out loud. “What the hell? Why?” I pound at his chest, but it does nothing. “You crazy bastard!” I shriek. He shoves his elbow against my throat and presses so I’m struggling to breathe. Then he lets up on the pressure, and I suck in gulps of air. I can feel his enormous, rigid length pressing into my stomach, and shamefully, I tingle between my legs.
“Oh yes. I’m crazy all right. You made me that way.”
His eyes stare into mine, and I’m ensnared. My breathing is ragged, and my nerves frayed, but I can’t look away from the beautiful mess in front of me.
Then, to my shock, he leans forward and kisses my forehead. His lips are soft and gentle. The tender gesture is so contrary to the man that he is.
The man who’s been toying with me for months.
I struggle a little, but he presses his elbow harder, and I have to hold still so he’ll let me breathe. When I stop fighting, he eases up on the pressure.
He’s so much stronger than me, holding me still. I can’t do anything. Can’t break free. I’m forced to let him kiss me, and it turns my stomach. He can do anything he wants to me.
And for some horrific reason, that thought has my panties soaking wet. I’m ashamed.
It’s not my fault I’m feeling pleasure. My body’s a traitor, giving me no choice but to succumb to the feelings that have eluded me since our cruel ending. He can make me say dirty words, he can touch me anywhere, and the more I think those thoughts, the more my heart rate accelerates.
Arousal floods my body. I’m so wet between my legs I’m afraid he can smell my juices soaked into my panties. This is what I loved most of all when I was with him. The surrender. The helplessness. Letting him take charge. The delicious fear, not knowing what’s coming next.
He licks my neck and then bites it. I can’t stifle my moan.
“You like that, baby?” he says in a rich, sexy growl.
I want to say no. I want to knee him in the balls to put some distance between us.
I do none of those things.
“Yes. Oh God.” The words practically burst from my mouth unbidden.
He moves his hips, rubbing his thick length against me, and I arch my back, pressing into him shamelessly because I have to. He’s making me.
