Sunshine and the Stalker

by Dani René

  But it was her reply to my text only a few moments ago that sent me over the edge.

  Empty threats don’t scare me, Stalker.

  Whatever shred of control I’d been holding onto snapped and sent me damn near charging to her apartment door. I’m practically twitching with need as I wait for her to answer.

  So trusting, this little girl with the strange name and strange hair and strange clothes.

  So trusting and innocent.

  Just waiting to be victimized by my expertise in the bedroom.

  I want to possess and consume her unlike any woman I’ve ever encountered.

  And when I finally have her, I will punish her for this power she has over me. I’ll extract the cries from her body with physical pain mixed with pleasure as she’s been the sadist wreaking havoc in my mind. It’s only fair. Tit for tat.

  When she opens the door, I’m not fully prepared for what I see. I expected more bizarre clothing. Mismatched colors and fabrics. Styles from one era that don’t even belong in the same room as styles from another era.

  Yet now?

  Now she is timeless in her simple black dress.

  Somehow a classic beauty transcending every level of time.

  I’m struck senseless.

  Anger wells up inside of me. How dare she lure me in like this and take me by surprise? How dare she ruin my careful planning and execution? How dare she tempt me into making a goddamn fool of myself because I don’t have a plan?

  Her smile catches me off-guard and snuffs out my fury. I find myself stepping closer and closer and closer until I’m peering down at her honey eyes and my fingers are wrapping around her red-and-black locks.

  She smells like innocence and flowers.

  Like youth and freedom and everything but me.

  I want to stain her with reality.

  Mark myself on every part of her.

  Make her realize the world is much darker than she knows.

  “Creeper alert,” she murmurs, her voice flirty and carefree.

  “I’m in your home, and you are not afraid,” I growl, inhaling her.

  She presses a palm to the center of my chest over my tie and pushes slightly. Not enough to force me away but enough to keep me momentarily from mauling her.

  “Slow down, tiger.”

  “Trusting strangers is dangerous,” I bite out, my tone harsh and condescending.

  She smiles, her honey eyes dancing with interest. “But we’ve already met, Stalker Darden. We’re hardly strangers anymore.”

  Something rubs against my leg, and I jerk back to find a black cat staring up at me. I wonder if this beast knows this is a fifty-four-hundred-dollar custom-made Tom Ford suit. He lets out an unimpressed “meow” and continues his relentless rubbing.

  “Hank is a texture man,” Cerys explains as if this makes all the sense in the world.

  It makes zero sense.

  This world of hers she’s drawn me into is like some alternate reality.

  Like the Alice and Wonderland Broadway show I saw once. Talking cats and psychedelic drugs. An upside-down world of sorts.

  “Why are you dressed like this?” I demand, ignoring her strange words.

  She laughs and shakes her head. “I was going out. To the club with my friend, if you must know, Dad.”

  I sneer at her mocking words, but my cock lurches in my slacks. “You’re not going anywhere, Alice.”

  Her eyebrow arches. “The name is Cerys.”

  “I know, Alice. Now call your friend and tell her plans have changed.”

  A rosy pink color blooms across her slender throat when I close the door behind me. I turn the lock, nudge the cat away with my Italian leather shoe, and point at the phone in her hand.

  “I, uhh, I think you should go.” Her sultry voice cracks slightly, and worry glimmers in her honey orbs.

  I scrub my palm across my jaw and give my head a shake. “You knew when you spoke those words to me downstairs in the snow who I was,” I rumble. “You knew I’d been watching that woman, and you stopped me. You drew my focus on you. And instead of running away, you shook your ass, jabbered your nonsense, and showed me to your home. If that isn’t a fucking invitation, I don’t know what is.”

  She blinks at me, her tits jiggling with each frantic breath she takes. “Anyone ever tell you you’re intense?” she asks as she texts someone on her phone.

  I should worry she’s contacting the police or her father or Olivia, whom I know lives two stories above them. Instead, she sends her text and tosses her phone into a chair nearby.

  “You need a drink,” she tells me as she turns and heads for the kitchen.

  I prowl after her, shedding my long coat on the chair along the way. Inside the kitchen, I find her pouring some cheap vodka into two mismatched glasses. She hands me the one with Beauty and the Beast on the side, and I growl. This earns a snort from her.

  “Do you have to stalk all your girlfriends? I mean, does anyone ever fall for this upon meeting them the first time? All growls and bossiness and . . .” She trails off and gestures at my suit. “And whatever this is.”

  “Tom Ford,” I answer. “It cost more than your car.”

  She laughs, and it makes my heart rate speed up. “Something tells me you actually do know how much my car cost. But before you launch into a terrifying tale of how you managed to get that information in such a very short amount of time, please drink the vodka and chill out for a minute.”

  I knock back the horrendous alcohol and slam the glass back down on the counter. She shakes her head as though I, James Motherfucking Darden, amuse her.

  I don’t amuse anyone.

  Her full, red lips hug the edge of the glittery glass she holds, and she daintily sips down the liquor that tastes worse than gasoline. She’s not old enough to drink. But that doesn’t matter because she’s probably not old enough for the shit I plan to do to her.

  Own. Possess. Destroy.

  I want to tear her dress away with my teeth and bite every soft part of her. I want to rub my cock against her, letting my pre-cum leak onto her skin, and draw orgasm after orgasm from her simply from my tongue.

  “When I want something, I take my time. This isn’t something quick that will go away tomorrow, faster than a hangover from a twelve-dollar bottle of vodka.” I stalk over to her and run my fingertip along her naked throat to her collarbone. Then, I dip it down to her cleavage. Her breath hitches, but she doesn’t cower away. “This is something you will savor, girl. You’ll savor it unlike anything you’ve ever had the pleasure of consuming. I will spoil you with my tongue, and you’ll reward me with your cunt.”

  Her cheeks turn bright red, and for a moment, the usually jabbering girl is stunned silent. Those perfect fucking lips part in surprise. Those lips are my next victim. I go in for the kill without warning.

  Tangling my large hands in her silky, wild-colored hair, I fist her locks on each side and tilt her head up. Her honey eyes are wide, but her mouth parts farther, inviting me in.

  Too bad I don’t wait for invitations.

  I take what I want.

  A mewl escapes her the moment my lips press firmly against hers. My tongue thrusts out to meet her small, unsure one, and I dominate her sexy little mouth. She’s caught beneath a beast, this beauty, as I press my body against hers and lock her between me and the refrigerator.

  Holding her hair isn’t enough.

  I am greedy.

  My palm roves down along her jaw to her throat. With a swipe of my thumb over the fat vein in her neck, I revel in the way it pulses wildly. Anticipation and delight mixed in one extraordinary feeling. The fact that she is not afraid has my cock harder than stone.

  “Your mouth, so young and supple, belongs to that of a woman. But you are simply a girl,” I remind her. Warning her that I’m about to do grown-man things to her. “If ever there were a time to run, it would be now.”

  I pull away to stare at her perfect mouth that her breaths rush in and out of.
<
br />   “But fair warning, Alice,” I growl. “I’ll chase you down any fucking rabbit hole. I’ll always catch you.”

  4

  Cerys

  My mouth gapes at his overconfidence. There's something sexy and intriguing about it, but there's also a hint of annoyance that trickles through me. Those dark eyes bore into me. They dive deep into my being as if he's attempting to burrow through all the walls I've hidden behind.

  Something tells me this man will rip me to shreds. Self-confidence has never been my strong suit. Hence the weird clothes and baggy sweaters. I hide behind the bright colors because I don't want people looking at me. But that's when they stare. Their eyes glued to the weird girl.

  "This isn't a fairytale, Stalker Darden," I mutter, turning away from him. I lift the bottle, pouring another steep shot of the vile alcohol. His body cocoons me suddenly; heat on my back stifles me. I'm pinned between the counter and his broad, hard, yet lean body.

  His hot breath fans over my neck, and his large hand grips my hair, tugging my head to the side. "Listen to me, Alice, I've devoured countless women. I've left them boneless," he murmurs. There's a promise in his words. He wants to do that to me. "Because I'm that fucking good." This time, his words are growled along my flesh, causing goosebumps to skitter wildly over every inch of my body. I can't stop trembling. He exudes a dominating presence. Commanding and extremely sexy.

  Finally, he releases my hair, and I take the chance to spin on my heel. Meeting his eyes is something else. Something dark and feral glistens in them, stealing my breath and speeding up my heartbeat.

  His gaze falls to my lips, trailing down to my nipples, which harden under his scrutiny. "Your tits are small," he utters.

  "Perhaps your dick is small," I bite back in anger, but as soon as the words fall from my lips, I want to swallow them back. I shouldn't have said it. I know it's a lie, because how can a man like him be small?

  That's when he turns rabid. He grips my throat, lifting me against the cabinet, pressing his groin against my stomach. I feel every rigid inch of him as he pushes against me, informing me wordlessly that he's loaded. There's a gun in there, and he will most certainly kill me with it.

  "Is that small enough for you, Alice?" He chuckles, the sound vibrating through his chest against mine. He's close. Too fucking close.

  His unique scent envelopes me. Coffee and whiskey, mingled with the sickly stench of the cheap vodka.

  "You're an asshole," I choke out, his fingers tightening around my slim throat.

  There's an animalistic grin on his handsome face as I claw at his neck. But the more I struggle, the harder he gets. I feel his cock throbbing against my abdomen. As if it has a pulse of its own.

  "Listen to me, Alice—"

  "Cerys. My name is Cerys," I breathe out when he releases me slightly. His grip still around my neck, but his hold isn't as tight.

  "Cerys." He says my name slowly, as if tasting it on his tongue.

  He leans in, ever so slightly. His full lips near mine. Involuntarily, my mouth opens for him, but he doesn't kiss me. My cheeks burn in shame for a moment before his tongue laps at the sensitive spot behind my ear. He pulls the lobe into his mouth, his teeth biting down on the flesh, causing me to whimper.

  I shouldn't want this.

  I shouldn't want him to hurt me.

  But I do.

  My thighs squeeze together. My hands land on his shoulders, gripping him, wanting to pull him closer.

  "Why?" I whimper when he suckles the flesh.

  He releases my neck, his hot mouth moving to the nape, planting kisses, suckling the skin, and biting so hard I know he's going to leave a bruise. He still hasn't answered me when his hands find the hem of my dress.

  "Stop me," he growls a second before he lifts the material to my upper thighs. "If you don't want this, you best tell me right now."

  I open my mouth.

  I don't respond.

  His fingers trail my inner thighs roughly. He kicks my one foot away, spreading my legs. I'm open to him. To his gaze and his ministrations. A soft mewl tumbles from my lips when he strokes my panties with two strong fingers. Again, and again. He continues to rub my pussy until I'm gripping his arms, digging my short nails into the material of his expensive suit, attempting to rip it from his body.

  "Little Alice, falling down the rabbit hole," he murmurs in my ear before pulling away to regard me with a sinful smirk on his handsome face. "Let me take you to Wonderland." It's tempting, so fucking insanely tempting that I want to agree.

  My head drops back when he pushes my panties to the side. Finding my drenched center, he continues to taunt me as he rubs against my needy flesh. It’s slow, meticulous, just how I expected him to be. This man doesn’t do things without thinking them through.

  "You'll give in. You will submit because I won't stop until you do," he promises, causing me to snap my gaze to his. There's no lie in his eyes. I knew it.

  We're at a standoff. He wants me to give in. I don't want to. But I don't want him to stop. I spread my legs farther, my hips rolling against his fingers.

  "You're so filthy, Alice." He chuckles wolfishly. "Come for me. Use my fingers for your pleasure, little girl," he growls, his body rigid. He's barely holding onto his restraint. He teases my clit with his thumb while his other fingers slide against my opening, but never fully entering me. I cry out loudly, lost in the moment, as my body writhes in pleasure.

  He doesn't stop.

  "Please," I beg.

  He rubs me harder, faster, pressing against my clit, causing my toes to curl. I see stars as my body convulses, the slick juices of my orgasm leaking from me and drenching his fingers.

  "That's it, my dirty girl. Come for me. Come for your filthy stalker." His words wash over me as I leap from the edge into the darkness, and I cry out his name.

  James. James. James.

  5

  James

  “James. James. James.” My name rolls off her sweet tongue like a chanted prayer. As though she’s a forest nymph praying for the gods to shower their blessings upon her.

  I’ll be her god.

  I’ll shower her with pleasure until she’s soaked to the bone and shivering for a reprieve.

  “Ahh,” she cries out, her body jolting when a cute-as-fuck orgasm steals her from me. Her eyes roll back, and her back arches, a sultry moan tumbling past her lips. I rub her slowly and let her find her way back to reality one breath at a time.

  I take a step back from her and bring my fingertips to my nose. Her scent is clean and sweet and fucking unlike anything I’ve smelled before. It makes my cock strain in my slacks. I need this woman like I need my next breath.

  “Coat. Shoes. Now,” I bark out. “We’re leaving.”

  She blinks at me in confusion, still drunk from her orgasm. “Where will we go?”

  On a slow ride to hell where I will taint every pure cell of your body with the evil sexual darkness that is me.

  “My place.”

  Her answer is given to me by her amber eyes. A flaming desire burning like fire rages there, desperate for the hell my body promises hers. We don’t need words. Stories can be told in silence.

  Ours is steady breathing.

  Narrowed, challenging eyes.

  A fisting of my hand and a biting of her lip.

  Silent yet powerful and predicting a future of unfiltered pleasure. I’ll give it to her raw. Show her what it feels like to lose your mind and control together at once.

  She flitters past me and disappears deeper into the apartment. I throw on my coat and wait impatiently at the door. Her farewell party waits with me, circling my feet like four demons supporting the devil in his nefarious plans for an angel.

  And fuck . . . she is an angel.

  Even in her stupid yellow coat.

  Sunshine and warmth and youth and mine.

  I hold my hand out to her, and she walks over to me, curious but wary. As she should be. I clasp her hand into mine and all but drag her
through the building. We trek through the snow outside that’s falling heavily now, but the flats she threw on are no match for the depth.

  Too slow.

  I need her to hurry the fuck up.

  Bending down, I grab her by her waist and hoist the tiny thing over my shoulder. She lets out a loud, happy squeal that makes my black heart thrum to life. A devil has feelings, it would seem. She’s cracked me right open and dug deep inside. I like her there.

  I give her thighs a squeeze before I storm through the blistering wind and relentless snow. When I walk into my hotel, I bypass the front desk, ignoring all the stares, and head straight down the hall to my private elevator.

  “It stopped snowing,” she sasses. “Since we’re inside and all. You can put me down.”

  Ignoring her, I enter the code to the elevator and step inside when it opens, my haul secured over my shoulder.

  “Is this a normal thing for you?” she asks, her tone mildly irritated.

  “What? Kidnapping bratty, beautiful girls who make poor fashion choices?” I ask and slap the back of her thighs with my palm. “Nope. First time, I must say.”

  “You’re, like, the biggest freak I’ve ever met, and, like, I can’t even be mad at you,” she grumbles. “Believe me. I’m trying. But it’s hard when you smell so good.”

  The doors open to my private suite, and my lips part too. A smile. She makes me fucking smile. I pack that thought away for later. Not much in this life brings me joy. Pleasure? Yes. Joy? Never.

  But Cerys Youngblood, crazy girl with crazy hair and an abhorrent affection for disgusting liquor and demon cats?

  Most definitely.

  “The floors are amazing,” she says in a dry tone. “Prettiest floors I’ve ever seen. I wonder what the rest of the place looks like.”

  I lower her to her feet but keep my grip around her sweet curves in a tight hold. “Pretty sure when my tongue is inside you in a few minutes, you won’t give a goddamn about the floors.”