Page 4 of Shadowing Charlotte

Chapter four

Alexander

T urn around and go home… The thought repeated in my mind like a cadence, but I refused to listen. I wanted—needed—to see where she lived. I needed to see her.

I stood by the Jeep for a moment, staring at the little sticker she had on the back window, a sparkly silver crown.

Spoiled little princess. I couldn't help but think, a smirk spreading across my face.

As I slipped down the side of the house, trying to appear nonchalant, I realized that all of her curtains were wide open.

She was making this far too easy for me, almost as if she wanted me to watch her.

The notion made my pulse race, heat coursing through my veins.

That morning, she had looked around as she climbed into the Jeep. For a moment, I thought she might have seen me. But then, she'd started the SUV and drove away from her father's house, unaware that I had been following only a few cars behind her.

I opened the gate—the unlocked gate—shaking my head.

My spoiled little princess didn't realize how vulnerable she was, all alone in an unsecured house.

I strolled through the backyard with my hands in my pockets, taking in the immaculately trimmed bushes and the pristine, glistening pool.

Even the house that she'd been given to use temporarily was nicer than anything I'd ever lived in.

When I caught sight of movement in the bedroom, I took a step back, angling my body out of view and pressing myself against the wall of the house.

Charlotte was wearing nothing but a towel, the image immediately making my throat dry.

I watched in fascination as she sauntered around the room, pulling out fluffy night clothes, dropping the towel and slipping on a pair of lacy blue underwear .

Fuck… What the hell was I doing? Why was I watching this? Her body went rigid suddenly, her honey brown eyes glancing out the window. I shrank back, my heart pounding in the base of my throat. I waited, with bated breath, for her to react, to scream or call the police. She didn't…

Charlotte moved slowly, sinking down onto the edge of the bed.

My eyes blew wide with shock as she laid back, stretching out across the soft, velvety blanket, her entire body exposed to my gaze, save for the coverage of her lace underwear.

Fuck, she was perfect. She was slightly tan from spending the summer outside, freckles speckling her skin in little patches.

Her tiny pink nipples were hard, begging to be toyed with. The sight made my mouth water.

Her gaze shot to the window again and I felt like the breath had been sucked from my lungs.

And then she—fuck— she slid her hand into her panties and began to move her fingers in tiny circles beneath the material.

Fuck, I needed to leave. I couldn't watch her do this.

But I was frozen in place, my dick growing hard as her pace increased.

Her back arched and her head fell against the sheets in pleasure.

Her eyes remained fixed on the window, as if she knew I was watching her; the thought making every inch of my body ache to touch her.

Her whimpers turned into breathy moans that I could hear even through the closed window.

I licked my lips, imagining the sweet taste of her, the way her body would arch and shiver under my touch; the blissful sounds she would make if she were mine.

Fuck, I wanted to rip the screen open, crawl into her room, and fuck her right there in her bed.

My hand reached out as if it had a mind of its own, brushing the cool glass of the windowpane.

The world around us ceased to exist, and all that mattered was the dance of her fingers beneath the lace and the symphony of her breath—the sweetest music I'd ever heard.

When she finally came, shuddering and crying out, I nearly blew my load in my fucking pants.

I could hardly fathom what I'd just witnessed.

Overflowing with conflicting emotions, I gathered my thoughts and retreated, hurrying out the gate and back to my car.

The moment I was inside, concealed by the tinted windows, I unzipped my jeans, fisting my dick and pumping it in my hand, groaning as the image of her laid out across her bed replayed in my head.

I came faster than I ever had before, a guttural moan wrenching itself from my lip as my head fell back against the seat.

Any chance of clarity escaped me; I didn't even feel shame for jerking off in my car like a pubescent teen.

As I fixed my pants and wiped my hand on one of the rags I'd stuffed into the side door, I knew I couldn't stay away from her.

I needed her. She was an addiction; one I refused to seek treatment for .

I sat in the car as the sun disappeared over the horizon and the streetlights came on. Even then, I didn't leave. I watched the house until the curtains closed, and the lights went out.

She'd been staring at the window as she touched herself. Charlotte wanted me to see her…

A sick smile spread across my face as an insane idea sprang in my mind. Pulling open my phone, I located the nearest grocery store.