Father

by Clarissa Wild

  There’s a red envelope on the floor.

  Did I leave the door open?

  I didn’t close it.

  Someone came in and left this here.

  I immediately rush to the vase, pick up the gun again, and search the house. Sweat rolls down my back. One by one, I scan all the rooms, pulling up blankets and pushing aside curtains wherever I go. Leaving nothing the way it was. In the end, my house is a mess. But an empty, lonely mess with me as its sole occupant. Exactly how it should be.

  I sigh and tuck the gun back behind the vase.

  My attention focuses on the red envelope, which lies on the floor like a gift begging to be opened … and I just know I can’t resist.

  Drake

  Accompanying Song: “Game of Survival” by Ruelle

  Hours before

  Through a narrow gap in the curtains, I watch her.

  She sits behind her vanity, looking at herself in the mirror as she paints a thin black line along the top edges of her eyes. The way she elegantly yet carefully swipes the small brush along her eyelids has captured my attention, along with every other little detail. Her black hair floats in a gush of wind coming in through the window while her eyes remain fixated on the mirror and her fingers finish the lines gently. She’s poised. Sophisticated in her movements. Perfectly beautiful in her lonely existence.

  A perfect victim for my crude desires.

  I know it’s wrong to desire her.

  To watch her from the window … or all the way from my car, where she can’t even see me because my windows are tinted black.

  Just as black as my heart …

  I clutch my chest as I think about her. Day and night.

  Her entire existence consumes me to the point of wanting her so badly I’d kill myself if I couldn’t come close.

  I’m dangerous. The worst kind of enemy to cross your path.

  But as unlikely as it seems, I’m not the bad guy in this story.

  I’m the one who wants to give her everything she needs. The one who wants to take her and lock her up where no one can find her.

  I watch her every morning … while she drinks her favorite coffee from Starbucks as she reads the newspaper all by herself, the ticking clock on the wall her only companion.

  At night, I peek through the small gap in her curtains hanging from her window and admire her in her sleep. She’s half-naked, wearing only a small green bralette and matching lace panties. My hand reaches for the window, and I let my fingers slide down across the cold glass, wondering if she’ll notice I’m here.

  I know she knows.

  I’ve seen her look at me from her window.

  I watched her pick up the notes I left for her.

  I hope she likes them.

  She wrestles with the blanket, the nightmares from her past clearly occupying her. But as her face contorts and her sweet, wet lips purse, I find myself so … fucking … aroused.

  I don’t know if it’s the desperate look on her face or my fucked-up mind … but I want her so badly.

  I start touching myself.

  Right in front of her window.

  In the middle of the night.

  I zip down my pants and take out my rock-hard cock, stroking it from top to bottom. Seeing her while she doesn’t even know I’m here only makes it more exciting. More wrong.

  And nothing gratifies me more.

  I’ve never done this.

  Jerked myself off to the thought of a girl I can’t have. A girl who isn’t even awake to know I’m here, lurking on the other side of the windows.

  I’m a motherfucking creep, and I know it … but I don’t give a damn.

  She’s too beautiful, too innocent, too lovely not to desire.

  Too fucking perfect not to taint.

  I know what I’m doing is wrong, but I still do it.

  I keep rubbing myself until the veins in my cock bulge and pulse with greed. I lick my lips at the sight of her furrowed brows and her fingers clutching her blanket as I imagine lying there, holding her down while I fuck her brains out.

  I wish to fuck out her innocence.

  Watch those pretty little lips part in euphoric bliss as I make her come like no other man ever has.

  I want to see the lights in her eyes snuff out.

  I want to watch it all.

  In the dark of the night, I silently come, jetting my seed all over her window, right where her body lies in view.

  It feels so fucking good to release all that pent-up lust. And even though it satiates me to some extent, I’m still not completely satisfied. Something’s missing. Something tangible.

  Her body … a response to my actions …

  Something.

  But she continues to sleep … as she should.

  I grab some tissues from my pocket and wipe the cum off her window then tuck my cock back into my pants. I turn around, and after one final glance, I leave, never to return.

  Or so I say.

  Telling myself that is the only way I can accept my own deviance.

  Of course, I know it’s a lie.

  And she knows it too.

  Hyun

  Accompanying Song: “Violent Delights Have Violent Ends” by Ramin Djawadi

  Now

  My fingers tremble as they hold the note. The story I just read … a man touching himself as he watches me through my window …

  It made my thighs clench.

  I stop reading and feel my own pussy thump between my legs.

  What is wrong with me?

  Biting my lip, I stare at the words, repeating them over and over in my head. I wonder when this happened. Was it today? Yesterday? Days or weeks ago? And could I have noticed if I’d only woken up?

  Someone’s watching me. Relishing in my privacy. Fantasizing about my body. Even touching himself while looking at me …

  It’s wrong, so wrong.

  But then why … why do I feel so excited that I’d want to touch myself too?

  Don’t lose yourself in the moment.

  I suck in a breath and lift my head. If he dropped this note here just now, he must be close. So I turn around, open the front door, and stare outside.

  A navy blue car sits on the corner of the street, one that looks the same as what Greg drives.

  But as I stare at it, its tires screech, and it shoots away around the corner.

  CLICK HERE TO READ MORE!

  A scorned wife on the run, and a stalker who follows her every move… Match made in heaven?

  After being forced to marry a tyrant, Hyun Song flees his home in a desperate attempt to save what’s left of her dignity … and her life.

  Now on her own, she tries her best to move on with her simple life. But she quickly realizes she can’t escape her past … and that she’s not alone…

  He watches her through her window.

  Sends her indecent notes.

  Stalks her everywhere she goes.

  He wants her badly, and when she finally lets him in…

  It’s time for the wife to play a dirty game.

  Read it Now!

  More books by Clarissa Wild

  Standalones

  Mr. X

  Twenty-One (21)

  Ultimate Sin

  Viktor

  Dark Romance

  Delirious Series

  Stalker & Killer (prequel to Stalker)

  Wicked Bride Games

  Dirty Wife Games

  New Adult

  Fierce

  Blissful Series

  Ruin

  Erotic Romance

  The Billionaire’s Bet Series

  Enflamed Series

  Bad Teacher

  Visit Clarissa Wild on Amazon for current titles.

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  About the Author

  Clarissa Wild is a New York Times & USA Today Bestselling author, best known for
the dark Romance novel Mr. X. Her novels include the Fierce Series, the Delirious Series, the Stalker Duology, Twenty-One (21), Ultimate Sin, Viktor, Bad Teacher, and RUIN. She is also a writer of various erotic romances. She is an avid reader and writer of sexy stories about hot men and feisty women. Her other loves include her furry cat friend and learning about different cultures. In her free time she enjoys watching all sorts of movies, reading tons of books and cooking her favorite meals.

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