Page 58

Stalker: Smile.

Did you hack their surveillance cameras, you psycho?

Stalker: You act like it’s hard.

Stalker: He touched you.

Does it upset you?

His message is instantaneous.

Stalker: It upsets me when the clothing you wear touches you. What I feel for him goes beyond upset, Sunshine.

Smirking, I slide my chair back and angle myself in front of the camera. This far back, with few patrons, the upstairs is practically deserted. Add in the dim lighting, the close tables, and the backed-up corner, and no one will see me.

I’ll make it better.

My fingers inch toward my skirt that cuts dangerously high against my lap. I pull it higher, showing the bare skin between my thighs.

Glad my cycle ended to do this.

Stalker: You’re sitting next to him with no fucking panties on, Sunshine?

And if I am?

My fingers glide along my leg, landing on the edge of my pussy, eyes locking on the camera. Under normal circumstances, this would be obscene. I’m in public, vagina unclothed, daring my stalker. No sane person would do this.

But the power—the control I have right now—is pushing me to be devious. It’s driving him wild, and I’m lapping up the energy.

Stalker: Not. Another. Inch.

I don’t respond. My fingers dig down as I part my legs to allow access. I’m not sure what to do or how this works. I’ve never explored my body before. But for him—I want to tempt him. I want to break him.

There’s a pause, and another text.

Stalker: Show me.

Apparently, he’s on board. I open my legs wider, and from his vantage point, he can see my fingers deep inside my pussy. The heightened sense of danger, or being caught, causes me to drip onto the chair—almost as wet as he made me that night he consumed me.

Stalker: My turn.

The fire alarm blares overhead, and lights flash, startling me out of the haze of lust. The sprinklers erupt, raining down on us, and the crowd screams, surging forward. People grab menus, covering their heads, and the candles extinguish.

I yelp, sitting upright, as patrons stampede for the exit. The water soaks my front, dousing my hair, and I grab my plate, holding it over my head.

A strong hand grips my arm, yanking me to my feet. My stalker, the man who broke all boundaries, stands there, glaring down at me. The hood covers his face, but the set of his lips, the tightness in his jaw, tells me enough. He’s furious.

His fingers dig at my sensitive skin before throwing me further back, into the shadowy alcove overlooking the dance floor. I look down as everyone flees; the water pouring around us as if we were in a fresh rainstorm. He crowds me against the wall, body so close, his heat warms my chilled flesh.

“You wanted my attention,” he murmurs, breath burning on my trembling lips. “You wanted to play. Well, I’m here, Sunshine. Let’s play.”

He grabs my throat, pinning me to the wall.

I wince as he pushes against the wall, my implant tugging, and he pauses.

“What is that?” He brushes my hair away, lips frowning. “There are two of them?”

“They’re my hearing implants.”