Stalkers: A Dark Romance Anthology

by Ally Vance

  Alaina grinds against me, smiling wickedly. “You make it sound so romantic.”

  I grasp the hilt of my cock and lift Alaina up, so she can slide down my length. She teases me by only taking an inch or so and then rising up again.

  “It is romance, baby. It’s true romance.”

  She smiles at me as she sinks down fully on my cock with a luxurious moan. “I love you, too.”

  “Yeah, that. You always put things better than me. I fucking love you, Alaina.”

  I sit up and wrap my arms around her, capturing the last of her moan with my lips. Now that I’ve taken her, I’m never going to let her go.

  About Brianna Hale

  About Brianna:

  There’s nothing Brianna Hale likes more than a large, stern alpha male with a super-protective and caring streak, and when she's not writing about them she can usually be found with a book, a cocktail, planning her next trip to a beautiful location or attending the theatre. She believes that pink and empowerment aren’t mutually exclusive, and everyday adventures are possible. Brianna lives in London.

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  Veil

  M.A. Foster

  Chapter One

  Cannon

  I’d forgotten how boring graduations are. It’s been fifteen years since I’ve been to a college graduation, and it was my own. Just before the ceremony comes to an end, I slip outside the auditorium, where other family members are already waiting to greet the new grads.

  Finding shade under an oak tree, I pull out my phone and scroll through my emails. Commotion soon drags my attention to the doors, graduates trickling out of the building. While scanning the faces for my little sister, Heather, my gaze is snagged by a beautiful young woman, and my breath catches.

  Jesus. Fucking. Christ.

  It’s been a long time since a woman captured my attention like this. She’s goddamn perfect. Young but legal. That’s good enough for me. My knee-jerk thought is I want to play with her.

  She’s standing with an elderly couple and a man in an expensive suit. His back is to me, but there’s something familiar about his voice. I narrow my eyes behind my sunglasses, trying to figure out where I know him from.

  “Who are you looking at?” Heather asks, hooking her arm through mine.

  “Do you know her?” I jerk my chin to the blonde, who’s currently hugging the older gentleman who I assume is her father—possibly her grandfather.

  Heather narrows her eyes on the girl. “That’s Makayla. We had a few classes together. Why?”

  I flash her a devilish grin.

  “Cannon.” She groans, then gestures to the man. “She’s taken.”

  Right then, the mystery man turns just enough, giving me a view of his profile. Victor Martin.

  My grin widens. Today is my lucky day.

  “Go congratulate your friend.” I place a hand on Heather’s back between her shoulders and give her a little nudge, then drop my gaze to the phone still clutched in my hand and flip through my contacts until I find the number I need. “Get her number and ask if she’d like to have lunch sometime.”

  “No, Cannon. The last time I played your middleman, it backfired horribly.”

  “Courtney was a psycho,” I defend.

  “Pot, kettle.” She rolls her eyes. “Why can’t you ask a woman out the old-fashioned way?”

  “Because I’m not old-fashioned,” I deadpan. “Go.” I wave her off. “I’ll meet you at the car.” Turning away, I weave through the crowd before pressing the Call button and bringing the phone to my ear. I’m about to hang up when he finally answers after the third ring. “Victor Martin.”

  “Makayla is lovely,” I purr in lieu of a greeting.

  There’s a brief pause, so I stop and turn to see Victor scanning the crowd until he spots me. I give him a little finger wave.

  “She’s mine,” he growls into the receiver.

  “Tsk tsk, Victor. So greedy. Does she know where you’ve been the last three days?”

  “Fuck off, Cannon,” he snaps. “I paid you well.”

  “You owe me.”

  He barks out a laugh. “You’re still pissed about that?”

  I say nothing. Instead, I turn my back on him and head for my car.

  “What do you want?”

  “I want Makayla.”

  He huffs in frustration. “You can't be serious.”

  Again, I say nothing.

  “I’m supposed to just give her to you?” he continues. “I’m pretty sure that’s illegal.”

  “Don’t be an asshole.” I roll my eyes even though he can’t see me. “Considering you’ve been pissing away your inheritance at Veil the last couple of months, I’d say it’s time to let her go.”

  “She only moved in with me a few days ago. I can’t—”

  “I don’t care,” I cut him off. “Why would you move her in with you if—never mind. I almost forgot who I’m talking to.” I shake my head. “What about Desiree?”

  “Fine,” he growls. “But if I let her go, Desiree is mine.”

  I rub a hand over the scruff covering my jaw. This fucking guy. Victor and I have a rocky history. We were fraternity brothers back in college, but he broke the bro code by going after my girlfriend. He waited for me to screw up—and eventually I did. To this day, I’m pretty sure he set me up. The events of that night are still foggy. My girlfriend dumped me and Victor—like the snake he is—slithered his way in.

  Karma is a bitch.

  But sometimes she’s a beautiful blonde angel, with light eyes, long lashes, pert nose, and full lips painted in a pale pink.

  “I’ll speak with Desiree.”

  “I’ll be in touch.”

  Ending the call, I slip behind the wheel of my M8 and smile.

  Well, that went much better than I expected.

  Chapter Two

  Makayla

  Stepping out of the auditorium, I find my parents standing off to the side with my boyfriend, Victor. He’s been out of town for the past three days, so I wasn’t expecting to see him.

  “Well, this is a nice surprise,” I say with a smile, happy to see him. “I thought you weren’t coming back until next week.”

  “You didn’t really think I’d miss your graduation, did you, kitten?” He takes my hand and presses a kiss to the inside of my wrist. His touch is gentle, his smile affectionate, but it’s the flicker of promise in his eyes that sends chills down my spine.

  Victor is always in a strange mood after he returns from a business trip, but this time I expected it. I threw down the gauntlet in regards to our relationship before he left town, and clearly he’s still pissed about it.

  Dread bubbles at the bottom of my stomach, but I keep my smile in place because my parents are standing less than two feet away.

  My mother swoons, pressing a hand to her chest. My father rolls his eyes as he opens his arms, and I step into his embrace.

  “Congratulations, baby girl.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  “Victor, I hope you’ll be joining us for lunch,” my mother hedges.

  He flashes her his charming smile. “Of course, Mrs. Hawkins, but lunch is on me.”

  “Oh”—she flicks her wrist—“that’s not necessary.”

  Victor pulls his buzzing phone from his pocket and frowns down at the screen. “Excuse me. I need to take this real quick.”

  “Victor Martin,” he barks into the phone as he walks off.

  “Makayla.” I look over to see Heather approaching. She and I had several business classes together, and we even partnered up on a few projects.

  “Congratulations,” I say as we embrace each other.

  “You too.” She holds out her hand to my mother and introduces herself. “Heather Reed.”

  “Ni
ce to meet you,” my mother says. “We’re Makayla’s parents. I’m Susan, and this is my husband, Bob.”

  I decide now’s the time to cut my mom off before she talks Heather’s ear off. “Go ahead.” I lean in and kiss her cheek. “We’ll meet you at the restaurant. The reservation is under Hawkins.”

  She holds out my wristlet containing my keys, ID, cell phone, and lip gloss. “Thanks. See you in a few.”

  I watch them walk off, then turn my attention back to Heather and glance briefly over her shoulder. “Is your family here?”

  She cranes her neck as if searching for someone, and instinctively I do the same. “Just my brother. He hates crowds, so he’s probably in the car by now.”

  I spot Victor standing under a tree with his phone pressed to his ear, hand shoved in his pocket and annoyance etched in his expression. As if he senses me watching, his eyes meet mine and his lips thin into a straight line. His gaze flicks between Heather and me before he ends his call and stalks back in our direction.

  “…so if I could get your number.” Heather’s voice pulls my attention back to her. She’s holding her phone and looking at me expectantly. Crap. I didn’t hear anything she just said. I rattle off my number, and she types it into her phone. “Perfect. I just texted you with my number. Maybe we can meet up for lunch sometime.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “Great. I’ll text you next week.” She steps around me and hurries off toward the parking lot.

  I take the last few steps toward Victor, closing the gap between us.

  “Sorry about that,” he says. “Did you drive?”

  I shake my head. “I rode with my parents.”

  “Let’s go. I don’t want to keep them waiting.”

  Curling an arm around my waist, he leads me to his Mercedes and opens the passenger door. I quickly remove the polyester robe, revealing the red dress he picked out for me before he left town. I slide into the passenger seat, tossing my hat and robe into the back, before pulling on my seat belt. Closing the door, Victor rounds the front of the car, pinning me with a dark look through the windshield. He seems even more agitated since he took that phone call. A knot of anxiety settles in my chest.

  He climbs into the driver seat and starts the engine without looking at me.

  “Are you mad at me?” I ask as he merges into the line of cars waiting to exit the parking lot.

  “No.” His voice is eerily calm for the amount of angst vibrating off him.

  I swallow past the lump in my throat and turn my gaze to the passenger window. Victor and I met during the first semester of my senior year, when he was a guest speaker in my Business Strategy class. His family owns The Martin Hotel chains located all around the world. After class, I found him standing in the hallway, leaning against the wall and looking completely out of place in a sea of college kids. He asked me out for coffee. Coffee turned into dinner. Dinner turned into weekend getaways. He doted on me with expensive gifts and treated me like a princess.

  I’d been too caught up in the romantic whirlwind, I hadn’t realized just how much control Victor had over me—over our relationship. He always ordered for me when we went out. The clothes and gifts he bought were ones he picked. And the sex was how, when, and where he wanted it. I mistook his controlling ways for romantic gestures. Coupled with the fact that he’s older and more experienced, I had no problem letting him take the lead. Until now.

  I want the kind of loving relationship my parents have. I want a man who will stand in front of me when I need strength. Someone who will stand behind me when I need encouragement, and stand beside me when I need support. I want a partner, not someone who dictates everything from what I eat to whether I’m allowed to have an orgasm.

  Unfortunately, I don’t see that happening for Victor and me, but I had to see if there was any hope. Three days ago, he gave me an opening, and I took it.

  “What would you like for graduation?” he’d asked from the doorway of the bathroom.

  “Just you.” I winked at his reflection in the mirror.

  “You already have me.”

  I turned from the mirror to face him. Nervous butterflies danced around in my stomach, and the words poured from my mouth. “I want the man I fell in love with.”

  I don’t know what I expected him to say, but I didn’t expect silence.

  For a solid minute, he just stood there and stared at me. Then he grabbed his bag and left for his business trip. He never called or texted even once.

  I thought maybe he was punishing me for my comment by pretending I didn’t exist.

  Judging by his behavior now, he’s still angry.

  Victor’s not a violent man, but that doesn’t mean he won’t hurt me.

  Chapter Three

  Cannon

  “I think you should come work for Davis Corporation,” I tell Heather. “It’s what Dad would’ve wanted.”

  My parents divorced right after I graduated college. They were high school sweethearts, but over the years, they grew apart. The divorce was amicable, and they remained friends. Two years after the divorce, my father married Heather’s mother, Julie. They were married seven years before they were hit and killed by a drunk driver. Heather and I weren’t all that close, mostly due to the fifteen-year age gap between us, but that all changed after the accident.

  At thirty-one, I took over as CEO of Davis Corporation and became the legal guardian of a grieving teenager. To be honest, running a multimillion-dollar company was a hell of a lot easier. Heather’s father died overseas when she was four, and both sets of grandparents lived in Ohio, where her parents were originally from. My mother drove up from Boca and stayed with us for a while, which helped a lot. Because of my mother’s easy friendship with my father, she was also friends with Julie, which was the anchor Heather needed to feel close to both our parents.

  “What about you?” she asks.

  I raise my brows. “What about me?”

  “Do you want me there?”

  “Of course I want you there. I didn’t put you through four years of college so you could make dance videos on social media.”

  “Don’t knock my twerking skills.” She snickers. “What’s the job?”

  “I’ll start you out as my assistant.”

  Her lips curl. “You already have an assistant.”

  “Beth gets me coffee, handles my calendar, and answers the phone. You’ll work beside me and learn the business. I’ll start you off with smaller projects until you work your way up.”

  It’s exactly what I was doing before I took over as CEO, and I was thankful for all my father taught me. I’m also thankful for his assistant, Beth, who is now my assistant. If it weren’t for her, the transition wouldn’t have been a smooth one.

  Heather nods. “I’d like that, Cannon. Thank you. I think I would be a great asset to your company.”

  I grin proudly. “I know you will.”

  “How much are you gonna pay me?”

  I wave her off. “We can discuss your salary next week.”

  Our waiter approaches the table. “Would you like some dessert, coffee, or tea?”

  Heather pats her stomach. “No, thanks. I’m stuffed.”

  The waiter swings his gaze to me, and I give a slight shake of my head as I slip my hand inside my jacket pocket and retrieve my wallet. “Just the check, please.”

  He pulls the leather ticket holder from the pocket of his apron and places it on the table before collecting our plates. “Thank you for dining with us today. It was a pleasure serving you.”

  “Thank you,” Heather says as she checks her phone.

  After lunch, I drive us over to Magnolia Park so I can present Heather with her graduation gift.

  “Tell me about Makayla,” I ask as we make our way through traffic, giving her a side glance.

  She lifts a shoulder while scrolling through her phone. “I don’t really know much about her. Like I said, we had a couple classes together. We worked on a couple projects, but we
weren’t friends outside school. I’m pretty sure that guy with her was a guest speaker in our Business Strategy class first semester.”

  I stop at a red light and look over at her. “His name is Victor Martin.”

  She lifts her gaze and quirks a brow. “You know him?”

  Nodding slowly, I tell her, “We were in the same fraternity.”

  “Small world.”

  “He’s also a member of Veil.”

  Technically, that information is confidential, but if I want things to go as planned, I need Heather on my side. I opened Veil a year prior to my father’s untimely death. It had always been a goal of mine to own a club by the time I was thirty, and I’d visited nightclubs all over the country looking for inspiration. Aside from the decor and the name of the deejay, they all had the same common denominators: music, flashing lights, alcohol, and long lines outside the bathrooms. I decided nightclubs were too much work, that the shine would eventually fade and the patrons would move on to the next “it” club. I needed something more appealing.

  A strict BDSM club was out because I knew nothing about the lifestyle. I enjoy kinky sex as much as the next guy, and though I have a dominant personality, I’m not a Dominant. My need for control is geared more toward the business aspect of my life. However, my girlfriend at the time was very adventurous in the bedroom, and she loved to role-play and dress up. That’s how I came up with the idea for Veil.

  A fantasy club.

  Heather frowns, confused. “I thought you don’t allow couples.”

  “I don’t.”

  The last thing I need is an unsatisfied couple or a jealous spouse getting pissed off and making a scene or dragging the club’s reputation through the mud.

  She pushes her head back against the seat and groans. “He’s cheating on her.”