“Am I interrupting something?”
I nearly dropped my phone in a hurry to put it away. I glanced up at a man standing before me. He had light brown hair, a little messy, some scruff on his prominent jaw. He was dressed well, and very handsome. My heart skipped a worried beat.
“I’m so sorry,” I apologized. “I was just taking a break; my shift is almost over.”
“I won’t tell if you don’t,” he winked at me, and I smiled at him uncomfortably.
“Did you need help?” I asked him awkwardly, and he explained he was looking for a gift for his sister.
I spent the next ten minutes helping him look for the perfect book for her. He mentioned she liked thrillers and plot twists, so I made sure to find him something I personally enjoyed. But he kept going on and on, until I started looking at the clock above us meaningfully.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” he laughed. “I’m not keeping you, am I?”
“Well, my shift is over now,” I said with a smile. “But I’m sure my colleague could help you out with anything you might need.”
“Well,” he grinned at me. “I must say, I was very much enjoying the way you were helping me in particular.”
I blushed as I looked at the floor. I did get the odd client hitting on me, but I still hadn’t gotten used to it yet. I kept thinking of those bitches’ comments in the bathroom, and I crossed my arms in front of my body self-consciously.
“Are you embarrassed?” he asked me softly. “You’re beautiful. You shouldn’t hide like that.”
“I do have to get going,” I said, snapping back to strictly professional. I didn’t need another reason for Jacqueline to hate me and take it to her father. “I can ask my colleague to help you further, if you want.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “I just wanted to talk to you.”
I gave him a tense smile and went behind the counter to pick up my things. It weirded me out when he followed closely behind, and I put my bag over my shoulder and closed the till, readying it for the girl who was coming in for the afternoon shift.
“You seem very nervous,” the man told me.
“I’m fine, thank you,” I replied. “Just have to get going now. Have to feed my cat. Thank you for your business.”
“What’s your cat’s name?” he asked, and I gave him a strange look.
“Casper,” I finally replied, then made an attempt to leave.
When I brushed past him, his strong fingers wrapped around my arm.
“Wait,” he said, and I looked at him like a deer in headlights.
“Please let go,” I said calmly. “I need to go home.”
“I just wanted to get your number,” he said with a winning smile of pearly-whites. He really looked like a model. “In case I need your help again.”
He laughed, but I felt uneasy. There was this vibe he was giving off, that made me really uncomfortable. I just wanted to get away from him.
“I’m sorry, I’m not allowed to do that,” I said simply, managing to get away from him. “I hope you have a nice day, sir.”
I felt his eyes on my back as I made my way out of the bookstore.
CHAPTER 4
Flynn
I couldn’t for the life of me get my mind off her. She was everywhere, infiltrating every thought, demanding I give her my attention. I spent the day after she ended the call obsessing about her. I listened to every single recording of hers, went through every comment, every post she’d ever made on the website. It got me so fucking hard I tried messaging her twice, just because I fucking needed to get off.
No fucking reply.
I knew she was at work but it still pissed me off. I wanted her to be mine. Completely at my mercy, doing only what I instructed her to do. I knew it was stupid, but I couldn’t help myself. Something about her suggested how much she wanted to be controlled, and I wanted to be the man to give her that.
Finally, I sent her another message, this time to her phone. She responded in seconds, telling me she was just leaving work and she’d be alone in a few minutes. It made my dick hard instantly, the thought of her desperate to get back home to play with me making me want her more than ever.
I want to see you.
I fired off the message, my fingers itching to touch my growing cock, desperate for her to say yes.
See me?
Yeah, video. I want to see you come for me.
I don’t want to see you.
She took me by surprise, and I re-read the message a couple of times before I replied.
Why not, doll? You’ve already seen some parts.
Because I’m scared it’ll ruin this. I don’t want to. But you can see me, if you want to.
How the fuck was I supposed to say no to that? She was ready to show me everything, and there was no way I’d deny myself that pleasure.
We went through some technicalities and both set up accounts so we could watch each other. I set up my laptop at my desk and called her, my heart pounding as I waited for her to answer. I positioned myself so she couldn’t see anything but the bottom part of my body, my boxers and my hard cock straining against them. If she asked me to turn my camera on, I wouldn’t show her my face. I was a dick, but I wasn’t going to push her into that until she wanted it so badly she begged for it.
She answered the call. My screen filled up with her room. A simple bedroom, decorated with touches that suggested she lived alone, because no fucking man would live in a bedroom that girly. A cute tabby cat was sleeping behind her on the bed, occasionally twitching his tail.
But I didn’t give a shit about any of that. I only had eyes for her, my beautiful girl.
She sat at her desk, wearing a dress much too see-through to keep me sane. She was beautiful, fucking stunning. Her face wasn’t classically beautiful, but gorgeous despite that. Her lips were almost too big, her nose slightly crooked. So were her two front teeth when she smiled nervously. She had long, reddish-brown hair that almost touched her hips. She was a fucking vision, and my cock tightened impossibly as I stared at her.
“Turn your sound on,” she whispered, and her lips parted in the most delicious, shy way.
I did what she asked, and my microphone crackled to life. I saw her gasp when she heard some noise on my part.
“Hello, doll,” I said, and she shook in her seat, just from hearing my voice. What a delicious little slut.
“I’m scared,” she said, her eyes dancing across the room. “Be nice to me, okay?”
“I’m always nice,” I replied, and she rolled her eyes, giggling. It made me chuckle, too. “What do you want, little doll? Tell me what you want me to do to you.”
“Make me come.” Her voice was soft. “Make me come, please. I need to, please.”
“Please what?” I asked. She looked nervous. We’d never really settled on what she was supposed to call me, and I could see her nerves getting the better of her.
“Please…” She twitched in her seat in time with her cat in the background. It was almost adorable. “Please… sir.”
“Good girl,” I muttered. “Pull your skirt up, over your knees, above your panties.”
She looked nervous, so I added, “You don’t have to show me. I just want to watch your face while you’re doing it.”
“Okay,” she whispered, and I watched her arms working and her breaths get heavier as she parted her legs for me.
“Touch yourself,” I told her. “The inside of your thighs, doll. Stroke them. Gently.”
She whimpered the second her fingers made contact, I could tell. Her eyes fluttered closed and she got so lost in herself I didn’t even know if she remembered I was there. She was such a horny fucking thing, and watching her like that, her pretty body just out of view, made me want to pin her against a wall and fuck her so senseless she wouldn’t recover for days.
“Good girl,” I said. “Don’t touch that pretty little pussy yet. Just your thighs. Pinch yourself if it gets to be too much for you.”
She moaned so loud
ly, I wondered if she had neighbors to hear her. I wanted them to. I wanted her to debase herself completely, just because I fucking wanted it. To be at my mercy, my pretty fucktoy to play with however the fuck I wanted. I could hear myself grunting out loud, and it sent her into a frenzy. I wondered if she’d have bruises the next day from pinching too hard, and I made a mental note to ask her to show me the next day.
“Get yourself really fucking close,” I grunted at her. “Really, really close. And then open your eyes and show me how desperate you are for me, little doll.”
She moaned softly and I watched her hands moving under the skirt of her dress. My own hand found its way into my boxers and I stroked my cock until it was throbbing, ready to burst open with the seed I wanted to spill for her. God, she was perfect, just like that, with her legs spread for me and her eyes closed so tightly, begging for more directions. I wanted to play with her until she hated me, push her right to the edge and then bring her back so many times she forgot what it felt like to come until I finally let her have it.
Perfect girl. My girl, my little doll.
“I’m going to come see you,” I told her, and her hand stopped working for a second as she opened her eyes to stare at me.
“W-what?” she stuttered.
“Back to fucking work, doll,” I growled. “Did I tell you to fucking stop? Keep working it. Move your fingers between your legs. Work my fucking cunt over those panties.”
She whimpered and touched her pussy. I could tell from the way her whole body melted against those fingers.
“How wet are you?” I asked.
“Wet,” she whispered.
“How fucking wet?” My voice was nothing but a growl.
“Too wet,” she said.
“Too wet for what?”
“Too wet for this… this is crazy.”
The shrill sound of a cellphone interrupted our conversation and she jerked nervously when she heard it, then started giggling as she picked her phone up.
“Saved by the bell, doll,” I told her with a grin, my fingers still lazily stroking my aching cock. “Answer it.”
“No,” she begged, looking right at the camera. “Don’t make me.”
“I’m making you,” I grinned. “Answer.”
“I don’t even know this number,” she said, her smile fading.
“Answer it now,” I prompted her. “Right here, right in front of me. Do it.”
Her hands shook as she brought the phone to her ear and answered. I stared at her.
“Hello?” Her voice was shaky.
She was undeniably beautiful. So beautiful I wanted to punish her for it. Punish her for every stare from the men she met at work, or passing her on the street. I wanted to make her submit to me completely, and there was no way I’d ever be satisfied unless she only came for me. Not even herself. No, I wanted to be on her filthy fucking mind every single time she had an orgasm. She was only mine now. Mine to punish. Mine to reward. Mine to fuck raw.
Her brow furrowed as she listened to the person on the other end of the line.
“How did you get this number?” Her voice was small, a little shaky. Her hand left her pussy and came to a stop on the armrest of her chair. “No, it’s not. It’s really not okay.”
I stopped touching my cock as I stared at her. Something was up.
“No, it’s really not,” she said again. “I don’t want to, no. Please don’t call me. I’m sorry. Yes. Thank you.”
She cut the call and I stared at her as she tried to regain her composure. She was shaking.
“You okay, doll?” I asked her, and she shook her head dismissively.
“It’s nothing,” she said softly. “I might have to go now.”
“Wait,” I asked, almost too fast for my own liking. “What’s up? What happened?”
She sighed and rubbed her temples. Her tits jiggled when she did and I couldn’t help but stare at them.
“Some guy,” she said. “He came into work today. I work in a bookstore, I thought he just wanted help… He got a bit weird right before I left.”
“Okay,” I said roughly. If someone had tried to hurt my doll, I was going to rip their ball sack off. “What happened now?”
“He asked for my number earlier.” Her voice was scared. “I said no, but I think one of the girls at work must’ve given it to him. They… don’t like me much.”
“Are you okay?” I wanted to know. “Can I do anything?”
“No,” she shook her head vehemently. “It’s really okay. He’s just a weird guy. We get them sometimes. I have to go now, okay?”
She looked into the camera apologetically, and despite what I knew was right and wrong, I wanted to switch my own on so fucking badly. I wanted to console her. Tell her I’d be the only one scaring her from then on. But I resisted and bit my tongue.
“Okay, doll,” I said. “Look into the camera for me.”
She did, her eyes big and frightened like a doe’s.
“Say thank you,” I told her. “Say thank you for playing with me, sir.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, and cut off the call.
She left me sitting there with a throbbing fucking hard-on, and my head swimming with conflicting thoughts.
* * *
I needed to see her. Not like that, not over the camera. I needed to see her in person.
I knew fuck-all about her, though. Definitely not enough to find her. And the thought of her being so creeped out by the guy that came into her work was putting me off the idea.
But wasn’t she the girl who came to thoughts of someone finding her, raping her, fucking her tight little cunt while she begged them to stop? Wasn’t this exactly what she fucking wanted?
I was fighting a battle with myself, trying to decide what I should do. The biggest part of me demanded I find where she was, what she was doing. I needed to know. I needed to fucking find her. I needed every bit of information I could find on her just so I had it ready for when the time was right.
My conscience was still fighting a battle with me as I tracked her down, finding more and more information as I looked at our conversations and her profile. She revealed some details so freely it almost felt like she wanted someone to find her. Such a good girl, leaving a trail of breadcrumbs for me to follow until she was finally all mine.
I looked at every single one of her posts and finally tried to nail down the location. I knew she lived in a house then, no neighbors in sight. She worked in a bookstore, and she had a rescue cat. She went to a grocery store, walking there every single evening, mornings on the weekends. I knew the neighborhood she lived in from what she’d said, and I knew it was only a half hour’s drive away from me.
I decided I had to see her.
If my assumptions were correct, it meant she’d be going on her evening walk to the store in an hour or so, and I had every intention of seeing her there.
I looked at her neighborhood until I found the store she liked, because it was the only one that stocked a brand of cookies she’d mentioned online. It was a local farm’s product, and the shop sold it exclusively. Once I nailed it down, I grinned to myself, knowing I had her.
But could I really do this? Could I really be such a fucking creep and go see where she lived? It felt a bit fucking disturbing, to stalk her like that.
And yet every time I tried to come up with a reason good enough to convince myself not to do to it, I failed. I had to find her.
I got ready in record time, putting on some jeans and a simple button-down shirt. I slicked my hair back, and left my stubble the way it was. I hated shaving for the office anyway, so I kept it grown out when I didn’t have to go into work. I grabbed my keys and drove down to the store.
It was a small, quaint little supermarket obviously family-owned for generations. The owner, a plump woman in her sixties, greeted me at the door with such excitement I knew it had been a while since the shop had its last new customer. I looked around the store with her following closely behind, so d
esperate to show me everything the store had to offer. She explained her shop had been working with local farmers for years, and some of her bestsellers were their eggs and products made with the milk their cows produced.
I felt her enter the store without even looking over my shoulder.
My cock tightened when the bell above the door rang, announcing its new customer. The shopkeeper’s face lit up in a bright smile, and she excused herself. I had to physically restrain myself from turning around and looking at my girl, my little doll. I needed to see her so fucking badly. I knew she’d be perfect for me, and I just hoped she’d still be wearing that fucking see-through dress.
I lost myself between the shelves, finding the organic produce my girl was such a fan of. I stocked my basket with some food, adding the cookies she liked so much.
And then I felt her presence behind me, her sweet scent filling my nostrils and making me think things so nasty it was almost embarrassing.
I bumped into her, and she dropped a drink on the floor. The can broke open, and the fizz from her drink sprayed everything, covering us both in sticky, sweet juice.
“I’m sorry,” I said. I hadn’t meant to hit her quite that hard.
We both leaned down and she giggled as the drink kept spraying her.
“I’ll pay for that,” I told her apologetically.
“No problem,” she replied. Her voice was higher, sweeter in person. I looked up at her and my cock fucking ached.
She was indeed still wearing the dress, and she looked good enough to eat. Her long, pale legs were sticky with the soda, and I had to fight the urge to touch her dainty ankles. She wore simple sandals, with her hair down and messy. Her face was devoid of makeup and she looked much younger than the twenty-four years I knew she had on her. She looked like fucking jailbait and it turned me the fuck on.
Her pretty eyes connected with mine and I grinned at her, thinking about throwing her on the floor and fucking myself into that tight little pussy.
Drawn to Him: A Romance Collection Page 33