17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Ethan

Stalking through Kayla's kitchen, I grin at the empty sink. For the first time since she moved in, Kayla actually did her dishes.

I enjoyed watching her panic as she finally realized I'd been around, doing these little things for her every day. It took her longer than I expected. She's really not the housewifey type.

I thought her untidiness would irritate me, but I find it quite endearing. It's a way for me to take care of her, to give her what she needs. And if what she needs is her bathroom cleaned like she mentioned, I'll happily do it for her. After all, I clean up my crime scenes all the time. At least in Kayla's bathroom, I won't have to worry about blood spatter.

I won't be doing it tonight, though. Tonight, I just want to be with her. Thanks to her herbal tea, I finally can.

Like a creature of habit, Kayla always drinks a cup of tea every evening. The same type every night. That's why I added the sleeping drug into the handy tea bags. It's perfect, really. Since the tea is packaged, I don't have to worry about Kayla accidentally overdosing. If she drank loose-leaf tea, it would make things problematic, but it's like she decided to make things easier for me.

A single cup of my special blend before bed should have her sleeping soundly through the night without ill effects in the morning.

Distressed as she was, Kayla drank three cups tonight. Other people would grab a bottle of liquor and chug it down, but not my bunny. Upon finding out a stalker was visiting her home, she made herself a cup of tea.

Chuckling, I make a mental note to check if she has some British relatives.

I admit I was a little worried about her ingesting more sleeping drug than I'd planned. It wouldn't hurt her. I'd never give her something dangerous, but it could knock her out for longer than necessary. Kayla would certainly know something was off if she woke up at noon tomorrow instead of her usual six-thirty.

Fortunately, after yawning her way through her third cup of tea, Kayla finally gave up on staying awake. As the drug slowly took effect, she staggered her way to the bedroom, put on her warm socks and curled up under her heavy blanket.

I grin at that. She won't be needing either of those things tonight. Tonight, I'll be there to warm her.

Before moving to her bedroom, I re-check the security measures I've taken. The sensors around the house will alert me in the unlikely case someone approaches. Kayla's phone is temporarily muted, the calls redirected to mine. That way, I can decide whether her phone will ring if someone calls. I have a silent alarm linked to my smartwatch that will wake me half an hour before Kayla's alarm rings.

Everything is set. It's almost time to go to bed.

I take a shower, using Kayla's cherry-scented shower gel. It's not a particularly manly fragrance, but it reminds me of her. Standing in her tiny shower cubicle, I can't help but remember how she stood here and masturbated. How she moaned my name and begged for my cock. God! What I wouldn't give to hear it with my own ears.

Soon, I soothe myself. Soon, but not tonight. Tonight, I'll cherish simply holding her.

Still, that doesn't stop me from palming my hard cock, groaning as I imagine Kayla on her knees in front of me. I'd grab her hair and wait for her to open that smart, beautiful mouth of hers before shoving my cock inside.

Oh, I bet her mouth would be wet and hot. I'd make her look into my eyes to remind her who owns her. Her body, her soul, and hopefully soon, her heart, too. I want all of it. I want Kayla Reynolds and I won't stop until she's mine.

Mine. The word has my cock twitching in my hand. I'm ready to come, but I hold back, slowing down to prolong the sensation.

A bottle of hair conditioner catches my eye. Kayla always rubs the white goop into her curls, smiling and humming to herself. I've watched that ritual for several nights already and always wished I could be a part of it. But maybe I could? Or a part of me could, at least.

I grin, feeling like a wicked felon for what I'm about to do. The feeling doesn't stop me, though.

The bottle is half-empty. Unscrewing the lid, I realize the opening isn't wide enough to fit my cock in, and I'm certainly not about to try. I'd hate to visit the ER with my cock stuck in a bottle of female hair conditioner.

I pump my hard length again, this time imagining my little bunny rubbing the conditioner in her hair. The thought of my scent on her, even if no one will be able to smell it, satisfies a deep, primal urge I didn't even know I possessed. She'll be marked as mine.

Mine.

"Oh, fuck…" With a groan, I come, taking great care to shoot most of my load into the bottle. Just like I expected, my cum has a similar color and consistency as the conditioner, so I just turn the bottle over a few times to make sure everything is nicely mixed before putting it back in its original place.

Kayla's going to hate me if she ever finds out. The mental image of my little bunny being enraged makes me chuckle. Then again, she's not just a harmless little pet. She has proven she can be a formidable opponent when she faced down Benjamin Adams.

My fists clench as I remember their altercation, and I have to take in some deep breaths to calm down. That fucking bastard! He thought he could threaten my Kayla?!

I started looking into him even before Director Smith asked me to do so. It's obvious that he's abusing his son, but nobody will say a word because Adams has friends everywhere. He has the power to destroy anyone. Finding people willing to testify against him is going to be difficult.

I've hacked into Aaron's hospital records but found nothing useful. Every report ever written about Aaron is perfectly censored and curated to look like the boy's condition is his mother's fault. Those reports portray Benjamin Adams as a saint for taking care of his troubled son, when in reality, he's nothing but an abusive asshole.

To think he's been here in Bluebell Springs the entire time, and I never noticed…

I don't check on every inhabitant of the town, but I keep track of the local police and CPS department reports to make sure nothing heinous is happening. The report on Aaron Adams' suspected abuse only arrived recently. Completely anonymous, just a note left in the CPS mailbox, with no way to trace it to the source.

Not that it would help me. The author of the note would probably deny everything.

Victoria Smith asked me for evidence that would stand in court, but I already know I won't get any. There will be no witnesses, no signed statements. Benjamin Adams is too smart to abuse his son in public, which means there won't be any official footage of it either. I'll have to put cameras inside his house to see what he's doing to Aaron behind closed doors, but such evidence will never hold in court.

It's just as well, though. There are more ways to get rid of abusers than just bringing them to court.

I could kill him, but even if I made it look like a suicide, it would bring unwanted attention to the town. Someone would come sniffing around, and I simply can't afford that. Which means no killing. I have other ideas, but those will have to wait until I have cameras inside Adams' residence.

Unlike Kayla's tiny house, Adams' massive estate is closely guarded. Cameras and security systems I can disable from afar, but getting past armed guards unnoticed will be a challenging task. Nothing I can't handle, though.

As I put on my boxers—yes, I brought an overnight bag—I push Adams out of my mind. Tonight, I'm with Kayla. I don't want our first night together to be ruined by thinking about some abusive bastard.

I tidy up after myself, noting that the bathroom really does need cleaning. I'll hop on that tomorrow. Right now, I have other things to hop on.

Kayla sleeps on her back, lightly snoring in the most adorable way imaginable. As usual, a silky bonnet covers her wild hair, for which I'm grateful. I love her hair, I truly do, but I don't need it in my mouth as I cuddle her.

She doesn't stir as I climb into the bed and slide under the thick covers. Damn, I'm going to be sweaty all over before morning comes, but at least Kayla will be warm. Despite her having gone to bed over an hour ago, her skin is still remarkably cold.

I run my hand over her arm. "I'll warm you up, my little bunny," I whisper. "I'm here for you."

Mumbling something from her sleep, she rolls onto her side, giving me her back.

"Mmm, you're reading my mind, darling," I say, grinning. "Just the position I need you in."

I can't stop myself from sliding my hand down her silky nightgown and gently squeezing her soft ass. A groan escapes me, my cock stirring to life as if I didn't just masturbate ten minutes ago.

A dark, primal instinct is urging me to roll up Kayla's gown and touch her further, but I ignore it. I'm not here to have sex with her. That would be…wrong?

I know it sounds ridiculous since I've already drugged her, and I'm now in her bed, holding her rather intimately, but I don't want to take the next step while she's unconscious. I want to watch her arch her back in ecstasy as I pleasure her. I want to hear her moan and cry my name as she comes. I want her to be present when I take her. To enjoy it. To give herself to me willingly.

For that, I'm willing to wait.

Sliding her body closer to mine, her back to my front, I wrap myself around her like a vine. My erect cock is nestled between her butt cheeks, so close to the warmth of her pussy that it's weeping with need.

Putting my arm around her chest, my palm settles over her silk-clad breast. Kayla makes a soft sound as I run a finger around her nipple, the soft peak tightening under my touch. I know it's just a physical reaction she can't control, but it excites me all the same. Her body is mine already. Her mind and heart will follow soon.