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LIA

What if I was wrong?

Then I would be ruining a good thing with a good man for someone terrible. Someone horrible. Someone who couldn’t approach me like a normal man and instead, stalked me for weeks like a fucking creep.

But the suspicion grew.

Sometimes, I thought Mael moved like my stalker did. Sometimes, I thought he felt like my stalker.

That would explain why I felt inexplicably drawn to my stalker. I was already falling for Mael. Would it be so hard to fall for the darker side of him? At least, that was my thought when I let my stalker fuck me. When I let him kiss me. When I…

But after spending the night with Mael, the doubt started to creep back in. What if I was wrong? And if I was wrong, it meant I had cheated on Mael with a man who had been stalking me, no less.

I closed my eyes, hating the way I was feeling and the confusing emotions I experienced about a million times a day.

What was happening to me?

This was getting to be too much, and I didn’t know what I could do anymore.

I drove up to my childhood home and pulled into the driveway.

Dad wasn’t home.

The lights weren’t on. I didn’t want to go home, not when there was a chance I could run into my stalker.

I shook my head. It wasn’t a chance but a sure thing. If I went home, he would be there tonight, and I was feeling weak and defenseless.

And going back to Mael’s place…

I didn’t know how to face him… not until I figured out what the hell was really going on. Why was I feeling like this for both men?

I shut off the engine and got out of the car.

When I felt lost or unsure of my footing, I usually spent the night in my childhood home. It always reminded me of simpler times—when there were no expectations of me other than to get good grades and be good.

Now I didn’t know anymore.

I walked inside, taking in the familiar sight of everything comforting to me, bypassing all the family photos hanging on the wall, and made my way up to my childhood room.

Dad had kept it the same even when I moved out seven years ago and had no intention of moving back home. I was glad he did. I didn’t need any more new changes in my life. I placed my bag down on the floor and sat on my bed, looking around the place.

I didn’t take everything with me when I moved. In fact, I left most of my cherished mementos here, afraid I might lose them if I moved them. There were drawings Caden and I had done when we were little because Dad worked a lot, so we spent a lot of time with each other. There was the occasional nanny here and there, but mostly, it was just Caden and me.

And now, it was just me.

I stood from the bed and walked over to my walk-in closet, sitting down on the floor and running my hand around the floorboard before I heard a squeak. I paused my hand there and pushed down until it loosened, and I was able to get it open.

A secret only Caden and I knew about. We would put all of our most prized possessions down here growing up, sharing them with each other. I hadn’t dug around in there since Caden died, mostly because I couldn’t bring myself to do it, knowing whatever I left here would remain untouched until I decided to move it. And something about that thought just made me sad.

God, I wished he were here right now.

I would tell him about my stalker. And Mael. And about Victoria and Leo.

That last one would have surprised him as much as it did me.

I would mostly tell him how much I missed him.

How much I loved him.

How angry I was at him for leaving.

“Why did you leave me behind?” I whispered to the cool air. There was no reply. I hadn’t expected one, but how, fuck… how badly I wanted to hear his voice again.

I smiled a little when I pulled out a small stuffed panda. It had been mine growing up until Caden decided he wanted it, and thus started many battles between us to see who got to keep it.

I let him have it in the end, and yet it still ended up in my possession.

I placed it back down and took in all the stuff he had left here for me that I had forgotten about. The drawing we’d done together when we were little about a family of ninjas, and we promised each other that when we got older, we would write a story about it and become famous authors.

I laughed over the ridiculousness of it now. There would be no story written by the Whitlock siblings.

There never would be.

I shoved everything back in when all it did was hurt me, and I was about to close the floorboard again when something else caught my eye.

I frowned, reaching in and pulling out a little black book. It was leather-bound and obviously old, held together by black leather strings.

My heart thudded heavily in my chest as I took in the object, wondering what it was I was looking at.

I didn’t put it in here.

Caden did.

“What the hell is this?” I whispered in the quiet room.

* * *

I let out a small sigh when I felt the bed shift.

“How did you even find me here?” I asked when he wrapped his arms around me.

My childhood bed was much smaller than the queen-size bed I had back in my apartment. We barely fit, which meant he had to lie close to me, otherwise he would fall.

I hadn’t fallen asleep since I saw the little black book. I hadn’t seen the contents. Before I could read it, a note Caden had written to me had fallen out.

Lia, only read this when you think you can handle it.

Handle what?

What was in the book that he felt he needed to leave me a warning, telling me to be sure?

A part of me was curious enough to want to disregard the warning and just read it, consequences be damned. The other part didn’t want any more damage. Caden had always looked out for me. His note was set in place to protect me. I just knew it.

So now the book was back under the floorboards, and I had been twisting and turning all night in this bed until he showed up.

I should be surprised he was here.

I wasn’t.

“Do you really think there is a place you could go where I wouldn’t find you?”

I let out a small, tired sigh. I didn’t have the energy to fight him.

“What's wrong?” he asked, tightening his arms around me, burying his face in my hair, and taking in a deep whiff.

That move was so Mael-like that I felt my heart stall a bit before it took up speed.

“Everything.”

He didn’t say anything. Then his hand moved down to cup me between my legs. I tensed.

“Anything I can do to help?” he asked, his hot breath fanning over the skin on the back of my neck.

“I doubt it. Do you really think this would help?”

He chuckled. “This is my pussy. It always helps when I give it some loving attention.”

I elbowed him in the stomach. He pinched my nipple in retaliation.

“You’re fucking crazy,” I said, trying to move away. He pulled me back to his hard body.

“Tell me something I don’t already know.”

Perhaps I should be scared of a man who could so casually admit to being crazy.

I shook my head.

“Let’s get you naked first,” he whispered against my skin.

I put up a half-hearted protest, which proved to be pointless, considering how fast he managed to strip me of my clothes under the sheets.

He let out a small sigh as he pulled me in closer to him. “That’s better.”

“Is it?” I asked, the sarcasm heavy in my voice.

He playfully grabbed one of my breasts, his other hand cupping over my bare pussy, messing with my mind. “Better. Everything’s better when I can feel all of you.”

His tone was serious, telling me he really did believe what he said.

That was just about the sweetest and creepiest thing anyone had said to me. It didn't matter that I hadn’t fought him off all that much.

Even his touch reminded me of Mael.

What would I do if he was Mael?

What would I do if he wasn’t ?

“Stalker?”

“Hmm?”

“Why do you hide your face from me?”

He didn’t answer me. I forged on. “Is it because I know you?”

He made a small, noncommittal sound in the back of his throat.

“Have we met?”

The silence that followed was loud and clear. For a moment, I didn’t think he was going to answer me. Then he surprised me when he said, “Yes.”

I let out a stuttering breath of air, trying to take in his words. It didn’t mean he was Mael. Their voices weren’t even the same.

And at this point, I didn’t know which one I wanted to be the case—for him to be Mael or for him to not be. Would he answer me honestly if I asked him?

And how would I react if he said he was? If he confessed? If I reached out and turned on the lamp, bathing the room in light, and saw Mael’s face?

What would I do?

I turned around and twisted my arms around his neck, pulling him in closer to me. I cupped his face, closing my eyes and trying to imagine Mael’s features.

He pushed himself up on his hands, leaning over me slightly.

“What are you looking for, baby?” he asked me softly.

I didn’t answer him. Instead, I moved my fingers over his nose, taking in the strong bridge, and up to his eyebrows, taking in the soft hair there. I paused when I got to his temple before pulling my hands away and pressing them up to his strong chest.

I shook my head and tried to take my hands back. He stopped me, gathering my wrists in one hand and holding them up above my head.

“I—”

He kissed me before I could say anything.

I really tried not to give in to the kiss. But his taste, the solid feel of him pressed up against me, the way his lips moved and caused waves upon waves of pleasure to wash over me…

What was happening?

How could he so easily play with my body like this?

I kissed him back.

I kissed him like I kissed Mael, pulling him in closer to me and wanting to crawl into his skin.

I wanted everything from him.

I wanted the truth, and I wanted the beautiful lie.

I wanted him to tell me everything was going to be okay.

“Everything is going to be okay,” he said, his words settling over my skin lightly. I hadn’t realized I had spoken the request out loud until he said it.

“Promise?” I asked.

“I promise,” he said fiercely, going back to kissing me as if I was the lifeline and he was a man drowning in the vast sea.

His other hand moved down and played with my pussy, his fingers strumming along the sensitive flesh and drawing out all my inhibition.

My back bowed, and I moved in closer, trying to get more of his touch. All the while, the hand holding my wrists captive never moved.

There was just something about being like this, being under his mercy…

I shook my head.

My thoughts quickly evaporated when I felt two thick fingers push inside me.

“God, you’re so tight. Look at how you are clenching down on my fingers like the good girl you are.”

I closed my eyes and took in his words. His praise shouldn’t affect me like this, but it did. It fucking did.

My muscles shook when his fingers curled inside me, finding that one perfect spot that was everything. Wetness gushed out of me as he doubled his effort, pushing against me harder and faster.

I gasped, unable to do anything other than lie there and take it.

I twisted my body left and right when it suddenly became too much.

“Please. I’m?—”

My body convulsed as the pleasure took over.

I shook my head, not knowing what I was about to say. It didn’t matter. With a flick of his wrist, I exploded, my world shattering around me.

I bit my bottom lip, afraid I might scream and wake up my dad, but a moan escaped anyway, echoing in the quiet room.

I didn’t even know if he was home. I hadn’t heard anything since I got into bed a few hours before, but that didn’t mean anything.

He threw the blanket off of us. “We’re not done.”

Before I could say anything, he was off the bed and standing by the edge of it. I could tell by his movements that he was taking off his clothes. The soft rustling sound of the fabric falling onto the floor shouldn’t have sounded loud in my ears, but it didn’t.

My skin felt sensitive, and I jolted when I felt his hands on me, lifting me up into his arms. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he brought his arm around me. He grabbed his dick and pushed it toward my entrance, letting me fall a little until he was fully inside.

“Fuck,” I gritted out at the sensation and the feeling of fullness from this position.

He grunted and moved my hips against him until I was fucking him. Each fall was electric. Terrifying.

I was half afraid he might let me fall, half wanting more of this. More of him. I wanted him to go faster, to test all the limits, and push me past them.

My nails dug into his skin as I held on, not wanting him to let me go.

“You feel so good,” he muttered against my neck as sweat gathered between our bodies from the exertion.

I was incapable of saying anything to that. There were no words. Nothing but the sensation of falling and flying all at once.

He fucked me harder, leaning down and biting my neck once, the pain messing with my mind a little more. And that was all it took. I wrapped my arms around him tightly when I fell apart.

My screams were muffled when I buried my face in his neck, taking in his scent. My pussy shook violently around him, and every time I clenched down, it felt like I was being broken apart.

He moved over to the bed and threw me down, keeping himself buried deep inside me the entire time. He spread my legs out and began to fuck me, our skin slapping against each other every time he pushed in brutally. I felt the bed shake as it pounded against the wall, and I reached blindly for my pillow, gripping it tightly when the feeling became too much.

“That’s it. Look how good you are at taking my cock,” he said.

He fucked me harder.

Hell.

It didn't take him long to come after that. I felt his cock swell before he let out a guttural groan and spilled his cum inside me. Warm wetness dripped out and touched my skin just before he unceremoniously collapsed on top of me.

I wrapped my arms around him without thought, not thinking about anything or anyone.

My mind was surprisingly empty.

And how I just wanted to hold on to the peacefulness of this moment before going back into my messed-up reality.

* * *

I let out a small yawn and looked up at the ceiling.

My stalker pulled me in closer to him. “Go to sleep.”

“Not yet,” I said. For some reason, I didn’t want to close my eyes and give in to sleep just yet. I wanted to stay awake for a little while longer.

“You’re tired.”

“Not that tired.”

He didn’t respond to me right away. Then, “Did you want to talk?”

“Will you be honest?”

“I have always been honest.”

I kept my gaze on the ceiling. I couldn’t exactly refute that, considering we hadn’t talked all that much, so perhaps he was telling the truth when he said he had always been honest.

“So if I ask, you’ll answer me?”

“Yup. But before you ask, make sure you can handle the answer.”

“Handle the answer,” I repeated. “There’s that word again.” Handle.

Did Caden not think I could handle whatever it was in that book? And did my stalker not think I could handle the answers to the questions I would ask him?

I hated to even think it, but I was afraid they might be right.

“What was that?” he asked me.

I shook my head. “Nothing. Just something my brother said.”

“Your brother’s dead.”

I sucked in a sharp breath and turned toward him, even if I couldn’t see him. “You seem to know a lot about me.”

He made a small sound in acknowledgment.

“Then you know I’m dating someone,” I said.

Again, he made that sound.

And I wondered if someone who claimed to be as obsessed with me as he did, who had done every illegal and immoral thing to be with me, would have let go of the fact that I was with another man.

Before you ask, make sure you can handle the answer.

Why did I think I wouldn’t be able to handle this answer?