I couldn’t make my mouth work. Couldn’t force sound past the pounding in my chest.
Matty’s gaze flicked toward the wall again, then back to me, and his lips curled into a dark, hungry smirk.
“Looks like we’ve got a lot to talk about.”
CHAPTER 32
MATTY
I’d come again—thick, hot ropes splattering the shrine for the second time, streaking the torn photos, dripping off the orange hat, sliding down every red-circledMatty.
Still hard, I turned to her bed and somehow let a third load soak the sheets, claiming the mattress she’d slept on without me, the scent of sex and us thick in the air.
My pulse thundered, my skin was buzzing, and I wasn’t sure it was possible to sate my lust. Finding out she was this obsessed, that she was my stalker, my secret worshipper…it evidently lit me up like nothing else.
Every stolen photo, every filthy notebook, every hoarded scrap of me wasn’t creepy; it was perfect. I paced the tiny room, cock aching, eyes flicking to the door every few seconds, antsy and wild.
Come back, pretty baby.
I needed her here, needed her mouth, her tears, her screams, so I could pin her to that wall and make every fantasy real. I didn’t know how I could wait another minute.
The buzz of my phone cut through the silence, vibrating against the nightstand.
I glanced over, irritation flashing through me when I saw the name lighting up the screen.
Garrett.
I almost ignored it, thumb hovering over the decline button, but the restless energy in my body needed an outlet, something to distract me from tearing the room apart while I waited.
I needed to save the rest of my cum for Ophelia.
I answered on the third ring, my voice coming out rough, the edge of a growl in it. “What’s up?”
There was a pause, then Garrett’s voice came through, uneven and rushed. “Matty—Shit. I—Look, I realized something, and I need to tell you.”
A long pause, like he was trying to steady himself.
“Okay. Spit it out.”
He rushed on. “It’s Ophelia. I saw her at the library. She—she’s the one that’s been sitting in that car outside practice all semester. It’s her. She’s your fucking stalker!”
Silence stretched. My grip tightened.
“Have you told anyone else?” I asked finally.
“No—no, I swear.” His voice was fast, pleading. “I haven’t told anyone. I didn’t even?—”
“Good,” I cut in, flat. “Because if you do and you embarrass her in any way, I’ll kill you.”
Another frozen beat. I could hear him swallow on the other end. “You…don’t seem too upset. Did you—did you know she’s your stalker?”
“Yes,” I answered firmly.
“And that’s, that’s okay?” His incredulousness came out like a question and an accusation at once.
“Yes,” I repeated, softer this time.
There was a strangled sound, part shock, part laugh. “You’re a kinky motherfucker, Adler,” Garrett said, stunned and oddly amused.
