Stalkers: A Dark Romance Anthology

by Ally Vance

  Pulling one hand from under my ass, he pushes a finger inside me, curling it at just the right angle, and my inner walls clamp down on him greedily. He pushes a second finger inside me and pumps them in and out at a faster pace. My hips buck as I fuck his fingers while he continues to lick and suck my clit. The pressure builds and I scream, clutching the pillow as tight as I can while he draws out the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had in my life.

  “Good girl,” he whispers, placing a kiss on the inside of my thigh. “That was beautiful.”

  He moves up my body, settling between my parted legs. “What do you want, Makayla?”

  “I want you inside me.”

  Once again the bed shifts, and a moment later, I hear the sliding of a drawer next to the bed, followed by the distinct sound of a condom wrapper, and then he's back between my legs. I feel the tip of his cock teasing my entrance. Gripping his shoulders, my body tenses and I hold my breath as he surges forward, sliding into me and filling me in the most painfully delicious way.

  My back arches, sinking my head deeper into the soft pillow, as a long, pleasured-filled moan pours from my lips.

  A groan rumbles from his chest. “You feel so good.”

  The warmth of his breath brushes over my nipple before his lips close around it and he flicks his tongue over the tight bud.

  “Kiss me,” I pant.

  Then his lips are on mine as he rocks into me with deep, steady strokes. His hand slides down my thigh, bringing my leg around his hip as he picks up his pace and drives into me harder, sinking deeper, stroking that sweet spot.

  God, he feels perfect.

  How is it possible to feel so connected to a stranger?

  My heart is pounding and my body trembles as the pressure builds. Rolling his hips, X grinds against my clit, and a shudder rolls through him, sending us over the edge. I tear my mouth from his and scream as a pulse of white-hot pleasure rolls down my spine and through my limbs.

  Panting and sweaty, we lie there for a moment before X’s mouth presses to mine in a chaste kiss. “That was amazing, Makayla,” he whispers. “I hope we can do this again soon.”

  It’s just after eleven when I park my Jeep at the curb. Butterflies tickle my lower belly as I pull a strand of hair under my nose and inhale the woodsy scent X left behind. The whole way home, all I could think about was his hands, his fingers, his mouth, his lips, his tongue, his teeth, the softness of his hair, the smoothness of his skin, the ripples of his muscles, and that perfect cock.

  Sex never felt like that with Victor. He controlled everything, never asked me what I wanted. He wasn’t just controlling. He was selfish.

  Grabbing my clutch from the passenger seat, I pull out my phone and call Heather.

  “Hey,” she chirps.

  “Hey. I’m here. Can you stay on the phone with me until I get inside?”

  “I’ll meet you at the door.”

  “Thanks.” Ending the call, I slip my phone back into my clutch before quickly scanning the surroundings, then climb out of my car. Magnolia Park is a safe area, but I’m always creeped out when I have to stand on a dimly lit sidewalk to unlock the gate.

  Heather is holding the door open as I hurry across the courtyard.

  The courtyard is well lit, but there are still dark areas behind the trees. Although, someone would have to climb the gate or scale the wall to get inside.

  “Was it everything you hoped it would be?” she asks with a knowing grin.

  I let out a deep sigh. “It was more.”

  We take the elevator up to the second floor and agree to coffee in the morning before Heather disappears into her apartment.

  Turning off the lights, I move to the window to close the blinds when something catches my eye. A chill races down my spine when I spot a shadowy figure standing under the streetlight, just beyond the gate, looking into my apartment. I quickly step away from the window and hurry to grab my phone, ready to call Heather.

  What if I’d been five minutes later?

  Phone clutched in my hands, I move back to the window and peek through the blinds, but the figure is gone.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Cannon

  “Did she get home safely?”

  “Yeah.” Jesse chuckles. “She and Heather have quite the buddy system.”

  “You didn’t see anyone hanging around?”

  “Nah, man. I watched out the window until she was safely inside the door.”

  A few days ago, I caught Heather’s new tenant, Jesse, on his way out. I told him I was Heather’s brother and would appreciate it if he kept an eye out for anything strange. We exchanged numbers and went our separate ways.

  “Thanks for keeping an eye out. If you need anything, you have my number.”

  “Got it.”

  “And, Jesse?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t fuck my sister over,” I warn.

  There’s a brief pause. “I won’t.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Three weeks later…

  Makayla

  “Makayla!” the barista calls out as she sets my order on the counter.

  “Thank you.”

  “Makayla?” a male voice says behind me.

  I jerk my gaze over my shoulder to find Spencer—the guy I dated junior year—standing in line.

  Grabbing the two lattes, I turn away from the counter and face him. “Long time no see.”

  He nods once, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Sorry I never called.”

  I raise my brows, waiting for an excuse to follow, but I don’t get one.

  “Spencer,” the barista echoes.

  Spencer reaches around me, grabbing two cups off the counter. He gives me a tight smile, raises one in what I guess is a mock salute. “Good to see you.”

  My brows pinch in confusion. “Uh, yeah…you too.”

  Stepping around him, I make my way over to the table in the corner where Heather is waiting.

  I set our coffees on the table and take a seat across from her.

  “Who was the hottie?” she asks, bringing the cup to her lips.

  “Spencer.”

  She raises her brows. “The guy from college.”

  “Yeah.” I make a sour face as I reach for my cup. “That was super awkward.”

  “What did he say to you?”

  “Sorry I never called,” I mock, rolling my eyes and Heather laughs.

  “So what’s new?” I lean with my forearms resting on the table. “How are things with Jesse?”

  If someone had told Heather and me that night at the martini bar that two months later, she’d be dating and I’d be having sex with a stranger, we would’ve laughed our drunk faces off.

  Heather hasn’t been back to Veil since the day she took me to meet Desiree, and now that Jesse is in the picture, she has no plans to go back, so she transferred her membership to me. Since I’m working and making good money, I offered to pay her, but she refused to take it.

  An hour after my interview with Davis Corporation, I received a call from human resources with an offer, including a generous signing bonus. I’m very grateful for Heather. If she hadn’t come up to me that day after graduation, I’d probably be living in Sarasota with my parents, driving a beverage cart around the golf course.

  “Everything was great until we ran into his ex-girlfriend last night,” she says with an eye roll. “Now he’s being weird.”

  “Where? Weird how?”

  She leans back in her chair and crosses her arms. “We went to that Happy Hour bar for a drink. We weren’t there five minutes before she came up to our table. She gave me the typical ex-girlfriend once-over and clearly wasn’t threatened.”

  “She was jealous,” I interject.

  “Then she asked if she could talk to him outside,” she continues.

  “Please tell me he didn’t—”

  “He did.” She nods. “I don’t know what pissed me off more: that he interrupted our date to talk to his ex or that his enti
re demeanor changed after talking to her.”

  “Did you confront him about it?”

  “No. I didn’t want to be that girl. Clearly, he was agitated after talking to her. I didn’t want to fight, so when I finished my drink, I told him I was ready to go home. He called for an Uber and when our ride came, he told me he was gonna head over to Inkubus and he’d see me later.”

  I raise my brows. “Wow. That’s…rude. Have you heard from him?”

  “Nope.” She sighs. “This is why I hate relationships.”

  “I’m sorry, Heather. Give him some time. Maybe there’s some painful history between them and seeing her stirred-up emotions he wasn’t ready to deal with.”

  “Listen to you,” she says with a laugh. “Is that how you feel about Victor?”

  Ugh. “No.” My lip curls up in disgust. “I never want to see that man again.”

  Heather’s phone chirps on the table and my gaze drops to the screen as a notification pops up. “I have someone interested in renting the apartment below you. A realtor is bringing her by to look at it this afternoon.”

  “We should probably head back.” I stand and Heather follows. “I need to do laundry and get ready for the week.”

  As we approach my Jeep, I pull the key fob from my pocket to unlock the doors.

  “What’s on your windshield?” Heather asks as she picks up her pace. “Is that a flower?”

  Just as the words leave her mouth, I realize it’s a blue rose. The fuck?

  Heather moves to climb into the passenger seat as I pluck the flower from under the wiper blade. Just like the one before, the petals are slightly wilted from the heat. Tossing it on the ground, I open the driver door and climb behind the wheel.

  “Why’d you toss it? Do you know how expensive those flowers are?”

  “Because it’s fucking creepy. That’s the second time I’ve found one of those on my car.” I gesture to the other parked cars. “No one else got one.”

  “They mean something. I can’t remember.” She pulls out her phone and types something. “Ooh. The blue rose represents mystery, or unattainable. Hmm. I think someone has a secret admirer,” she teases.

  “Or a stalker,” I add, pulling out of the parking lot. “I have to tell you something and I feel bad for not saying anything sooner, but that first night I came home from Veil—the night you met me at the door—I saw someone on the street.”

  “Seriously?” she practically shrieks.

  I nod. “It was only that one night, though. I haven’t seen anything since.”

  She pushes her head back. “Ugh, Makayla. I wish you would’ve told me sooner. I have cameras, but the recordings only go back seven days.”

  When we arrive at the apartment, Heather asks me to show her where I’d seen the person standing that night, then she points out the cameras and tells me she’ll talk to her brother.

  “Speaking of your brother, am I ever going to meet him?” I ask as we make our way through the courtyard.

  “That’s my bad. I’ve been too wrapped in Jesse. I’ll make plans for us to have lunch or dinner next week.”

  As if hearing his name, Jesse appears in the doorway wearing a blank expression, his eyes glued to Heather.

  “Can we talk?” he asks.

  She looks over at me and I smirk. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Two weeks later…

  Makayla

  “What are the chances?” a familiar male voice says behind me.

  I look over my shoulder to see Spencer standing behind me. He’s wearing a button-down dress shirt, dress pants, and a smirk. He’s still cute.

  “Hey. What are you doing here?”

  “Here you go, Makayla!” the barista says as she sets my latte on the counter.

  “Thank you.” I smile, grabbing my cup and turning my attention back to Spencer.

  “I work in this building.”

  “Me too. I work in contracts on the fifteenth floor. You?”

  “I work for the other Davis. Architect, eighth floor.”

  I raise my brows. “I didn’t realize there were two different companies.” Heather only mentioned having one brother. “Are they related?”

  “Cousins.”

  “Oh.”

  He gives me a tight smile. “Hey, I’m sorry if I acted like a dick last time. I’d just broken up with my ex and then you were just there. I was surprised to see you.”

  “No worries.” I wave him off.

  “Maybe we can grab lunch sometime. My treat.”

  “I’d like that.”

  He pulls out his cell and I rattle off my number. I dart my gaze over his shoulder to see Heather walking into the lobby and heading for the elevators. “Gotta go. Text me.”

  “Hey, girl,” I say, catching up to Heather.

  “Hey,” she chirps. “Was that Spencer?”

  “Yep.” I snicker and blow into the small hole of my lid. “He wants to take me to lunch to make up for being a dick.”

  “Which time?” She laughs. “Does he work in the building?”

  I nod. “He’s an architect on the eighth floor. I didn’t know there were two different Davises in this building.”

  Heather nods. “Yeah. Ryan is our cousin. He and Cannon own this building together. Ryan is the one responsible for those gazillion-dollar mansions you see tucked behind those big tall gates. He also builds apartments, condos, and those lofts downtown near the port.”

  I raise my brows. “I love those.”

  She grins. “He also remodeled my apartment building.”

  “He does great work.”

  “I know, right?”

  I’ve yet to meet my new boss—her brother—the mysterious Mr. Cannon Davis. Despite her promise to introduce us weeks ago.

  “I missed you this weekend. Did you have fun on your getaway with Jesse?”

  Her cheeks flush and she grins. “I did.”

  “Oh my God, Heather, you’re blushing.” I laugh.

  “Shut up. I am not.” The elevator slides open, and we step inside. “Did you go to Veil this weekend?” she asks.

  “I went Saturday. X sent me a beautiful dress and heels.”

  “Oh, you think you're fancy now?” she jokes.

  “Incoming,” I warn under my breath just before Tara—the office gossip queen—steps inside.

  “Phew. Thanks for holding it.” I glance at Heather, and she cracks a smile. “This thing takes forever to make its way back down.”

  Just as the doors start to slide closed, a hand slips between them, causing the doors to jerk open. I gasp as the most delicious man I’ve ever laid eyes on steps inside, sucking all the oxygen from my lungs.

  “Good morning,” he mumbles, and I almost swallow my tongue when our eyes lock.

  Fucking hell. He’s beautiful.

  His brown hair is short on the sides and longer on the top. His eyes are the color of dark chocolate, and a dark scruff lines his jaw. His suit is expensive and looks like it was made just for him. Probably was.

  Butterflies take flight in my stomach when I notice his eyes flick down to my bare legs and slowly trail back up to my face, but his expression never changes.

  “Makayla,” Heather’s voice cuts in.

  I blink slowly before tearing my gaze from his. “Hmm?”

  She jerks her head to the side. “This is my brother, Cannon.”

  My gaze slides back to him, then to his outstretched hand.

  “Hi.” I smile, taking his hand, and wince. His touch sends an electric current shooting up my arm. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

  “You too, Makayla.”

  My stomach dips at the sound of my name rolling off his tongue.

  Tara nudges my foot with the pointy tip of her heel, and my eyes slide in her direction to see her smirking.

  The elevator slows to a stop, and the doors glide open. “See you at lunch,” Heather calls out as Tara and I step out.

  Unable to form
any words, I just hold up my hand and wave.

  “Damn, girl,” Tara hoots. “I would give my left titty to have him look at me like that.”

  I laugh off her comment and ask, “Is the other Mr. Davis as attractive as he is?”

  “Who, Ryan?” She looks over at me with wide eyes. “Oh God.” She fans herself, and I laugh harder.

  “Makayla,” Jane calls out, pointing to an arrangement of blue roses just as I pass her desk. Slapping a hand to my chest, I stuck in a breath as the sound of my racing heart fills my ears.

  Jane gives me a conspiratorial wink, misinterpreting my fear for excitement.

  Pasting a smile on my face, I move over to stand in front of her desk. “Those are beautiful, Jane.”

  “I’m glad you think so. They’re for you.”

  “Really?” I tilt my head. “Is there a card?”

  She plucks it from the other side of the arrangement and passes it to me.

  Setting my coffee cup down on her desk, I rip open the envelope and slide out the card. My heart rate slows and my shoulders sag in relief.

  A unique flower for a unique woman. ~ X

  “I know that look,” Jane drawls.

  I can’t help but smile. “What look?”

  “Love.” She winks.

  The smile slips from my face. “I’m not in love.” Am I?

  “Okay.” Jane nods as if to say “Sure you’re not.”

  How can I be in love with X? I’ve never even seen his face. Do I know him? The basic stuff, sure. I know he’s thirty-seven, never been married, no kids, and has his own business. His favorite food is steak—preferably cooked on the grill—but his favorite thing to eat is me. His words. He takes his coffee black with just a splash of cream, no sugar, and his favorite color is black.

  Isn’t it normal to want to know the person you’re having sex with?

  However, the only thing X knows about me is how I like to be fucked and the sounds I make when I come.

  Wrapping one hand around the neck of the vase, I pick up my coffee with the other and say, “I’m not in love. It’s complicated.”