Sir Fluffy meows as I deposit the mugs in my sink.
Callie should be out for the night, but I don’t want to leave her alone for long. I quickly grab the supplies I need, fish her car keys out of her jacket pocket, and suit up in my boots, jacket, gloves, and balaclava.
It’s bitterly cold and quiet outside, the snow carpeting the ground and covering the trees, making everything white and beautiful. I trudge through four inches of snow down my driveway and to the road to get to her car, clearing it off and driving it slowly to my cabin. I’m lucky I can even get it off the side of the road, and I’m lucky her shit car makes it down my snowy driveway.
Before heading back inside, I stick a tracker under the carriage of the vehicle, holding it in place for a few seconds to make sure it sticks.
I hurry back inside my cabin with her purse, which was on her passenger seat, and I’m satisfied to see she’s still passed out on the couch. I unblock thecellular network, open the drawer next to my utensils, and pull out her phone. She uses face ID, so I wave it in front of her and get to work installing a stalkerware app—spyware but for stalkers—so I can keep track of her once she’s gone. Then I stick a tiny tracker inside her phone case. It’s not as powerful as the bigger ones but gets the job done.
I wish I could install cameras in her living space, but I can’t get to Portland in this weather, and I don’t want to run into her brother. I’ll do that later. There’s a text from someone named Lola cancelling drinks tonight because of the snow—that’s damn convenient for me—so I respond to the text with a thumbs up.
I leave her phone on the counter and re-block her cellular network for another eight hours. In the morning, she’ll find she can use her phone again.
My phone buzzes, and it’s Noah.
Noah
what did you do
I sigh. This whole situation is so not my fault, and of course I look like the bad guy. Yes, I’m intense with women, which is why I don’t get involved. This one just showed up on my doorstep.
Me
I literally did nothing. She followed me home from Portland
and let’s not pretend that I’m not the one usually cleaning up your messes
Noah
yeah, sure, okay. Need my help?
Me
nope. Just letting you know what’s going on. I’m sending her on her way tomorrow after the storm clears
I gather Callie in my arms for the second time tonight and walk her to the guest room. She’s in jeans and that long-sleeved shirt. I can’t let her sleep in uncomfortable denim, and I have a fantasy image in my head of her in one of my t-shirts. I’m not gonna be satisfied until I see it in real life.
I lower her on the bed and stare at her, dark hair spread out around her head. Her shirt is tight around her ribs and has ridden up, exposing a soft, curvy section of skin. Ink peeks out, and I nudge up her shirt so I can see the whole thing. It’s a beautiful tattoo of a phoenix, stretching from below her right breast down into her jeans. It’s fierce and powerful and incredibly hot. And the underside of her breast peeking out from her bra? Fuuuuck me. I reach down and rub my cock, hardening in my joggers.
Nope. Don’t be a freaking creep.
I let go of myself and focus on getting her changed. Am I still being creepy? Yes. But I won’t touch her inappropriately, I swear.
It’s been a while since I got obsessive over a woman. Guess I’m due.
I reach over and unbutton Callie’s jeans, pulling the zipper down and groaning at the site of her low-rise white underwear. I tug the denim down her hips, swallowing hard at the sight of her underwear ridden up in the back, exposing the side of her ass cheek. I can’t help but rub my cock once more after I pull the jeans off the rest of the way. Fuck me, the sight of her long, smooth legs and curvy thighs are too much for me.
I know I should stop, but I tug her shirt up her abdomenand over her breasts, my breath catching when her thin, lacy bra is fully revealed, her nipples visible through the fabric. That’s why it was so easy to see her arousal before. There’s barely anything here. I rush to pull her shirt the rest of the way off, then tug on the oversized t-shirt I brought in. I reluctantly cover her breasts and pull the shirt down over her pussy. If I didn’t have any integrity, I’d just swipe once between her legs to see if she’s wet. Fuck, I’m tempted.
But I’m not like that.
I pull a blanket over Callie, turn off the light, and leave her to get some rest.
Now I’m left with a rock-hard cock and only my hand to take care of it.
Chapter 8
Warm Apple Pie
