CHAPTER ONE

RHYS

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NINE MONTHS AFTER HALLOWEEN...

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I don't expect people to understand why I'm standing in the freezing downpour, watching the restaurant across the street. I don't expect them to approve of my response if they ask, because, although I'm dressed in black with a mask covering most of my face and hugging the shadows, I'm not hiding anything.

I'm watching Addie.

I'm waiting for her to finish her interview so I can follow her home, climb her fire escape, and wait for her to fall asleep. Perfectly normal behavior. Not that the authorities would agree, nor would they understand that Addie is mine. My light. The flame in the darkness pulling me to her like a moth.

She's my reason for existing.

The reason I moved three hours away from my job to be closer to her because she won't move back home because of me.

I love her with every breath in my lungs.

Some might call that level of obsessiveness unhealthy, but I never said I wasn't crazy. I'm a level of deranged and dangerous that probably should be studied.

For her. Only her.

Addie with her wild mane of dark curls, her forest green eyes and porcelain features stirs something in my chest. Something hungry and feral, like I would sink my teeth into her flesh until she's bleeding just to mark her as mine.

Just the thought of her sweet flesh in my mouth, under my hands, tight around my cock has my fingers twisting into fists at my sides.

But I have to wait.

Across from her, the drab silhouette in the dark suit picks up his phone for the third time when the screen lights up. Addie pauses in whatever she's saying, but I can tell from the way her lips pinch, this job isn't going to happen.

Good.

I don't need her changing her plans in three days because this asshole wants her to start right away. I have worked too hard making sure everything is exactly right to fail now.

Hell, job or not, I will have Addie to myself this week. The plans I have for her, the fucking things I'm going to do to her fucking body...

Fuck! I need to calm down. I need to focus. I can't be hard in the middle of the street. People will definitely call the cops, and I can't get arrested right now. Addie's expecting me.

I train my attention back to the window and Addie's solitary shape watching the man push back his chair, phone already at his ear, one finger held aloft for Addie to wait.

Addie.

The woman he should have been focused on. The woman his phone should have been muted and ignored for. Instead, he's hurrying away, leaving Addie alone at the table.

If I could go to her, I would. I would take her bunched fist off the table. I would lace her fingers through mine and take her away from there. Away from him. I would steal her. I would put her on the back of my bike and take her home where she belongs with me.

But my Addie isn't weak. She's not mild. I'm not surprised when she gathers up her clutch, gets to her feet and marches to the doors.

A moment later, she's huddled under the awning as the rain pounds down on the city. A dark coat covers her dress, and she tugs the collar closer as she squints down the street, searching for a cab no doubt.

She can't see me. Even if she catches a glimpse, all she'll see is my bike helmet, but I still inch a step back, fully submerging myself with the night.

In case.

Just in case she turns those hypnotic pools of green across the busy street to where I'm watching her. Protecting her.

Not that she would see it that way. She'd have questions I can't answer. She might get scared, tell me to stop and I can't stop now that she's pulled me in so far into her games that I can't even think straight.

"Will you play with me?" eighteen-year-old Addie's voice whispers across the cavities of my brain like silk over naked flesh.

Fuck, baby, yeah, I'll play with you. I'll play out every dirty fantasy in your pretty head.

She started this. She haunted me, lured me into her web and filled my veins with promises of her sweet, tight cunt. It was mine the second she let me spread her wide across the floor. It was wrong and we both knew it, but she begged me to use her, take what I wanted, and I almost did. I was so fucking close!

Instead, my Addie got down on the knees she uses to worship God and sucked my cock. She guzzled my cum like it was her job and kept sucking after I was empty down her throat, sealing both our fates. Committing a sin we both knew no one could ever know about.

The memory alone has me reaching to soothe my throbbing cock chaffing against the soggy front of my jeans. I have to push the rest of that night from my mind to keep my focus on the present.

The doors behind Addie flies open and the man charges out, face red with probably embarrassment. Maybe anger. Doesn't matter. I'm pushing out of my corner and starting across the bustling street in their direction. I stay several feet away, phone out like I'm texting someone, but fully listening to the two.

"Hey, where are you going?" he's saying.

"Home. You seem busy."

The guy chuckles, the sound raspy with nerves. "No, no, my wife ... my ex-wife was putting the kids down and they wanted to say goodnight. Come back inside and we can finish, unless you'd like to go somewhere quieter...?"

Addie sucks in a slow, calming breath. Showing much more restraint than me; I'm half a second away from slamming my fist into his mouth.

"Mr. Landon, I appreciate the opportunity, but I don't think this job is the right fit for me."

"You're wrong." He laughs again, but I'm not liking the tension he seems to be holding back. "I think you're perfect for ... the position. Let's get a cab and go somewhere less distracting and you can finish telling me about yourself."

"I would rather dry fuck a cactus," Addie declares in the same deadpan tone and even my eyes bulge. "Thank you again for this experience, but it's a hard no thanks."

"Wait. Hold on now."

The fucker grabs her arm and I'm ready to commit several felonies when Addie slaps the appendage off and spins to face the startled fuck.

"Touch me again and I will slice your dick up the vein from balls to tip. You picked the wrong girl, Mr. Landon. I am so many layers of crazy you can't even imagine, so don't try me."

Landon staggers back three steps. A wise move. I would too if Addie was looking at me with that level of murder in her darkened eyes.

Satisfied she has made her point, Addie stalks away in the opposite direction from where I'm standing. She's using her purse to shield her face, but she's still soaked in seconds.

"Fucked up bitch!" Landon sneers under his breath.

I wait until Addie has a good head start before I move forward.

I step directly into the fucker's path and have the pleasure of watching his eyes widen with surprise, then fear as I loom over him with my mask covering my face. He can probably see his own reflection in my visor staring wide eyed back at him.

Without a word, because Addie has already made her case, I let him taste the leather covering five bunched fingers. The crack of fist into flesh is muffled by the rain, but his cry of pain isn't, and I relish in it.

I hit him again across the jaw and send him sprawling across the wet concrete in a pathetic heap of whimpering and pleading.

"Next time, I'll break your fingers for touching what's mine."

I leave him in the filth where he belongs and hurry to keep up with Addie.

I catch up to her at the corner as she stands waiting for a car to finish making their turn. She doesn't look up, doesn't even notice when I stop just behind her. Close enough that I could twist a damp lock of hair around my finger.

We would have to discuss this obliviousness she seems to have, this lack of awareness of her surroundings, but part of me likes to think she feels so safe because I'm there watching over her. Still, I keep my distance as I walk with her the five blocks to her apartment. She's soaked and not really making any effort to hurry which annoys me; she's going to get sick.

I ball my fingers into fists at my sides and glower at her slender back.

Walk faster! I want to snap at her. Call an Uber. Hail a cab. Don't just walk in the rain.

But Addie carries on the whole way with me trailing behind her. The soft click of her heels on wet concrete matches the patter of rain drops, the rush of traffic. I don't know what she's thinking, but it's definitely not the possibility of pneumonia.

My frustration mounts but is redirected by the sound of soft music coming from Addie's pocket. The rain has all but stopped when she fishes her phone out and puts it to her ear.

"Hey Mom, how's Greece? I just left. I don't think it's going to work. Yeah, at least I still have my position with Dr. Goldblum. No, he's still a sweet man. I hate looking for a new job when he's been so kind, but ever since Jenn left and Dr. Goldblum hired his wife to run the front, she's firing people left, right, and center. No, I don't think I should be worried, but I don't want to think she's going to keep me when she let Verona go. Verona! I know. She's been with Dr. Goldblum since he opened the clinic twenty years ago. She said Verona wasn't filing things correctly. Never mind that Verona set that whole system up and it was practically art. Now, we can't find anything. I know. Me too. But enough about me. How's Greece?"

She's silent for an entire block with the exception of the occasional hum or giggle.

I listen and follow, wishing I could slip my fingers through hers and walk with her shoulder bumping mine gently as we go home together.

"In three days. Just the one week. No, you are not flying home early from your anniversary vacation to Europe that you've been planning for a million years to sit with me in a cabin. I don't care that Oz won't mind. Mom, no. Stop it. I'll be seeing you in two weeks for the party and to get my gifts. What do you mean what gifts? You're traipsing all across Europe and not even bringing me anything? That's rude."

I smile at the laughter I can hear from both women.

"I promise I'll be back before the party the following week unless I meet a sexy Yeti with a nine inch—"

I can practically hear Paloma's horrified shrieking from across the ocean. It's barely masked by Addie's hysterical laughter.

"Yetis need love, too, Mom, and you're the one who taught me to spread ... what? I was going to say the love. You're such a pervert."

Even I'm face palming and trying not to laugh.

"Fine! I won't join a mythical gang bang in the forest. God, you used to be fun. Yeah, but you still raised me."

We continue in silence as Paloma chatters on the other end.

"I texted and emailed you all the information, including the address. I even forwarded a copy to Oz. Rhys?"

I jump at the sound of my name. I'd been staring at my feet, too focused on the conversation.

My head snaps up, heart racing thinking I've been caught. But she's still walking.

"No, I didn't. I don't think he cares..."

She's so wrong and I know she knows it.

"I haven't talked to him. We don't have anything to talk about. I know he's my ... yes, we should keep in touch." She exhales heavily. "Yeah, I'll text him. Tonight? Mom, it's late..." I can almost hear her eye roll. "Fine. I'll text him tonight. Look, I'm home. I need to shower and eat. I will. I will. I promise. As soon as we hang up, I'll text him. Okay, love you. Tell Oz I said hi and love you. Oh my God, will you stop? I said I will. Yes, I will text you before I leave."

They hang up and Addie stuffs the phone into her pocket.

She pulls it out. Turns the screen on. Off. Puts it back in her pocket.

"Fuck sakes," she grumbles, pulling it back out.

She unlocks the screen, and I see her thumb scrolling through her contacts.

I don't have my work phone on me. It's the only number she has — that she knows about. The only one I carry with me when I'm with her is my spare. But now, as I watch her type something, I'm curious to see what she sent me.

At her apartment, Addie digs out her keys and lets herself in. The eight-story walk-up built with layers of bright, red bricks sits nestled between other apartment buildings on a fairly busy street. It's not exactly fancy like her dad and stepmom's penthouse across town, but it fits Addie's immediate needs. It's walking distance from most amenities and affordable enough for her to make rent every month on her part-time job at the walk-in clinic downstairs. The thing I like best is the fire escape leading up to her third-floor apartment at the back of the building where no one ever pays attention to the hooded figure climbing up.

My apartment, a squat three story block painted a depressing gray is almost twenty minutes away. A safe distance from Addie, but still close. I can't just accidentally bump into her getting groceries. She has no idea I packed my things and relocated two months after Halloween. Neither does anyone else we know because they might tell her and she'll ask questions. Three hours to work and three hours home is a small price to pay for my deception if it means I get Addie to myself.

I reach her window with the neat boxes of flowers hanging off the lip and the assortment of pots and baskets cluttering the landing. It's definitely a fire hazard given that it's nearly impossible to find a place to sit, but that's something I can't exactly tell her right now.

I hover off to the side and peek into the modest, open concept of her single room space. It's barely large enough to open the futon, but it's kept meticulous and organized. There's no clutter or Knick knacks. Despite being an avid reader, her collection is a small pile of paperbacks stacked neatly on her nightstand. Aside from the main space, there's a cramped little bathroom through a doorway wedged next to the fridge.

The apartment door is directly across from me, and I watch as she gets home. Her stiff fingers work the chunky buttons on her coat, popping them through the holes as she kicks her heels off next to the door. Her coat is tossed over the back of the single chair tucked beneath the table nestled in the corner of the minute kitchen. Clad in her black dress, she pads barefoot into the bathroom and shuts the door.

I make myself at home on the steps. The rain isn't a demanding force, but a light drizzle that pings off the metal railing and fills Addie's already overflowing pots. I drain them while I wait; it would crush her if they died, and while I'm not an expert, too much rain can't be good for them.

I close my eyes and rest my helmet covered head against the bricks. I will myself not to imagine Addie under the hot spray alone, small hands gliding over soft skin, caressing places I haven't touched in ten months — that she knows about. These nightly visits don't count, and I need her. I need to sink my cock into her tight heat. I need to fist her hair from behind and slam into her ass as she fucks her pussy with the dildo she keeps in her nightstand; it's not as big as I am, but it'll do.

Stupid rain. I want to be inside with her. I want to slide under her bed and wait. I want to feel the mattress sag as she climbs under the sheets and gets comfortable. I want to hear her pussy as she fingers herself whining my name.

My fucking name.

The one name she knows she shouldn't have on her lips when she's teasing her nipples and rubbing her clit, but I know if she ever moans another man's name, I will find and kill him. It shouldn't be my name, but it better only be my name.

It's fucked up. I know I should walk away. I should stop going to that damn chatroom, stop looking for her messages. Her dirty fantasies that she leaves just for me, but I'm in too deep. I'm too invested. I need her. I want her. I crave the release she gives me. She's become my drug, and I know there is no walking away from this for me. Not anymore.

I sometimes wonder if she knows it's me. I wonder if she's so vivid and detailed with her desires because she knows I will give them all to her without judgment or, maybe, she doesn't care who satisfies this deviant side of her if it means getting railed by a cock.

It doesn't matter. I get the messages. I get to collect her wishes in a jar on my nightstand and I get to think of all the ways I'm going to make them real for her.

Me. Only me.

Soon enough, I'll let her see me, but for now, I get to sit and watch as she finishes her shower and emerges from the bathroom in a cloud of steam and a fluffy towel.

Her wild mane is a damp wave down her back, the ends brushing the round curves of her ass.

The towel is unfastened and I'm holding my breath as it's dragged off and tossed on the chair with her coat, but all I see is Addie in nothing but a pink flush from the shower and my eyes taking it all in.

I drink my fill of her body as I do every damn night. I let myself trace every line, every delicious curve. I linger and savor the high globes of her breasts, the soft pink of her pussy.

She tucks a stray curl behind her ear and props her phone at the foot of the bed, between her open legs.

For me.

The phone in my pocket buzzes and I swipe it on, careful to keep my camera and mic off. But there she is, open and wet. Pussy fully on display for me. Soft and perfect. The rain rolls off my heavy duty, waterproof case, a safety measure I learned quickly from the first time when the rain actually killed my phone in the middle of our chat.

I was not going to let that happen again. Ever. Time with Addie is precious. Nothing is ever going to keep me from them.

"I need you," she breathes, voice desperate.

"I'm here, baby. Show me how much," I text back.

My perfect girl spreads her lips between her fingers, teasing me with a clear view of her tight hole already soaked and ready to pull me in.

"Fuck, I miss her, dimples," I write. "I miss how beautifully she cums for me."

She pushes two fingers home and we both groan. Her digits are coated. A thin stream rolls free with her pumping and pools at her second opening.

I haven't fucked her ass beyond a courtesy finger, but I plan to.

"I've been wet all day thinking about you," she pants, lost in her own pleasure as her hips gyrate into her palm.

"Did you touch her?"

From my angle on the phone, I can't see her head rock side to side, but I'm not watching the phone. I'm watching her live and in high definition splayed across her bed, one hand cupped over a straining breast, pinching and rolling the nipple while her other hand tries to get her off.

"No!" she gasps.

"Why?"

She's not looking at the screen anymore. Her moans are louder coming through the speakers built in my helmet. Her back is arched nearly off the mattress.

"Get your toy," I growl to myself, knowing she can't hear me.

But she must have sensed the demand because she stops and moves to her drawer. A soft mesh bag is drawn out containing her toy. The phallus rolls into her waiting palm. She washes it quickly in the kitchen sink before returning to the bed. To me.

I hold my breath as she repositions herself. Watching her is the highlight of my whole day. Watching her go up on her knees and slide the fat head of her dildo deep into the cavity of her body has me biting back a groan. She fucks it with hard, fast thrusts that have her tits bouncing and her head falling back. I know it's not enough. I know she wants to be violated and destroyed. She wants bruises and bite marks, and my hand around her throat as I take what I want from her willing body. As I use her cunt to satisfy my cock like I did last Halloween when she came so hard she squirted in front of a whole room full of strangers.

For me.

On my cock while I made her ride me and the handle of my knife. Made her cum again and again while forcing her tight pussy to take every fucking inch.

I made her clean it off me with her tongue before I used her pretty mouth the same way I had her cunt until she had my cum down her throat.

She has no idea it was me. She has no idea the masked stranger she let violate her over and over again that night, the one she begged not to stop is the same guy she's been avoiding like the plague since game night. The night we aren't supposed to talk about.

I do wonder if she could taste the similarities or does all jizz taste the same? I don't know. I've never sucked a cock, but maybe it's been so long she can't remember what the real me tastes like anymore.

Regardless, Addie bucks and humps the toy. The futon rocks under her and I imagine the noises we could make if I had her legs over my shoulders, taking her deep as she screams for more. As she whines and begs for every inch.

I know she's making those sounds now. Even with a window between us and rain hammering down around me, I can hear every shallow breath, every guttural whine.

If I wasn't dripping wet and worried about leaving puddles on her floor, I would wait until she's passed out to push open her window and climb inside. I would stand over her slumbering silhouette, brush aside her coverings and stroke my cock until I can stain her soft flesh with my cum. I would coat her sweet cunt then use my fingers to get my seed deep inside her while she rides my hand in her sleep and whimpers for more.

But not tonight.

I free my cock in the cold and rain. It doesn't matter. Raindrops drip from the tip, mixing with my pre-cum as I jerk in time to Addie's thrusts. I imagine pounding into her. I imagine being the reason her back arches and her toes curl into the sheets. I imagine I'm the reason her head is thrown back as she orgasms.

I guess, technically, it is me. I've sat outside this very window a hundred times listening to her beg the phantom me to not stop.

It's ironic really. I'm right here, willing, ready and able to give her every dirty thing she wants and more, but if I show up at her door, she'll slam it in my face and lock it for good measure, yet it's my face that makes her cum every night.

Well, in three days, we're going to fix that problem, dimples, I think darkly, pumping my dick harder. In three days, I will finally give her exactly what we both want.

But for now, I watch my pretty baby rub and grind against the silicone phallus and cum. My release hits the window in white spatters that the rain washes off, but not before I use a gloved finger to draw a heart in my jizz.

"Three more days, dimples. Then you're fucking mine."