Chapter 3

3

Cash

This is a very dangerous turn of events.

I’m all alone with my prey and she is smiling up at me like I’m her savior.

She has no idea how badly I want to occupy every aspect of her life, take up all her fucking oxygen so she can only gasp, preferably while I’m slam fucking her. She has no idea that I keep a Ziploc bag of her hair that I’ve collected from her pillow, a little cloud of blonde that I rub against my cheek like a ritual before bed every night. She’s been handed over to me like a giftwrapped present with the expectation that I’ll keep her safe.

But I’m the one from whom she needs to seek shelter.

“Thank you for doing this,” Scout says, letting go of me and stepping back, that maddening flush turning her face pink, her demeanor suddenly shy. “I know you probably don’t want your friend’s pesky little sister hanging around. I’m not…” Some of the sparkle dims in her eyes. “I’m not going to interrupt any dates this weekend, am I?”

Me giving the time of day to another woman? Laughable. “Nope.”

“Oh.” She starts a slow walk around my round, dining table and I suppress the urge to break it in half, so there won’t be a barrier between us. “It’s so funny, I don’t see you with girls very often, but Russ said you used to date all the time.”

Fucking Russ.

Putting the image of me with other girls in Scout’s head.

If he was still here, I’d strangle him with my bare hands.

“That’s right,” I admit slowly. “But I haven’t dated in a good while.”

“Why not?”

I shrug. “Focused on baseball.”

“Even in the off season?”

Is she fishing? Jesus. Does Scout…maybe have a little crush on me? Wouldn’t that be the cruelest prank the universe could play on me? My obsession having a crush on me?

Yes. It would.

Because she doesn’t know who I really am.

How I’ve been putting the fear of God in her, via emails and letters, to keep her from dating and driving me further into the pit of madness.

“Yeah, angel. Even in the off season.”

“Hmm.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” She is flitting around my apartment in a short skirt and skintight bodysuit and my dick is growing harder. And harder. And fucking harder. I want to put it in her more than I want to live. “It’s just that so many girls are interested in you. How do you resist?”

“Maybe I know they can’t give me what I want,” I grit out.

Immediately, I know I shouldn’t have said that. She stops in her tracks on her way around the table, her antenna obviously going up. “Oh. What do you want?”

Don’t say it.

Don’t say it.

But maybe there is a part of me that is still good. That wants to give her a warning to stay the hell away from me, because I’m a monster. Because I’m her monster.

I’m already walking toward her. Closing in on her. Backing her up against the table.

Her ass hits the piece of furniture, inching it across the floor, startling her.

She’s breathing faster. Faster.

Good.

“I want a girl who shuts her mouth and takes my dick when I decide to give it to her.” Make it worse. Let her know she needs to stay away. That you’re not safe. Nothing about you is safe for her. “I want a girl who reports her movements to me or knows she’s going to be tracked down, spanked raw and put on her knees for a suck and fuck session.” I crowd so close to Scout that the table scrapes several more inches backward on the floor, her green eyes wide as silver dollars as my disgusting warning continues. “I want a girl who gets on her fucking back on command and moans for Daddy, even while her thighs and neck and tits are being bruised up by my hands. Maybe even because of it. What do you think of that, angel?”

“I-I don’t know. I…don’t know.” She furrows her brow, looking down the length of her delicious body. A shudder snakes through her. Hot or cold? “It makes me feel s-s-strange, I guess,” she finishes in a whisper.

I’m holding my breath. “Strange how?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never felt it before. I can’t describe it.”

It’s fear.

Of course, it’s fear. Alarm.

Probably a sixth sense telling her I’m not what I seem.

But I take another step and her gorgeous body is up against mine now. My cock is throbbing. She’s been thrown to the wolf right at mealtime and I’m not well. I’m not fucking well, because of her. My hands move on their own, grasping her around the waist and dragging up her ribcage, watching her distracting lips pop open in response. “Cash?”

“We need to check your clothes and belongings for listening devices. Apple tags. He could be tracking you without your knowledge.” I am. I’ve been tracking her for months. But not through the use of a device. I stole her phone at a party ages ago and shared her location with my burner phone. “Hell, they make devices now the size of an ant. It could be attached to your clothing. In between the pages of your planner. Inside your phone.” Christ, I’m so wrong for this. I know I’m wrong. But I need to invent a reason to get my hands on her. I have to find a way to touch her while disguising this uncontrollable infatuation. If I don’t touch her, I’ll die. “I’ll go through your backpack, but first we need to take off your clothes. We need to search them.”

“Really?” She watches my hands as they skate down her arms and grip her hips, massaging them, desperate to rip off the fucking skirt and yank her thighs open so I can finally get a look at my dream pussy. “You think he’s tracking me right now?”

I track her from her bedroom to her bathroom and back. To her kitchen, to the store, to her couch. Daily. Hourly. Just watching the dot move with my dick in my hand. “Anything is possible.”

“Oh gosh.” Her cheeks turn the color of roses. “You want me to take my clothes off right here? In the kitchen…in front of you?”

“That’s right. I need to search everything, angel. Right here. Before you go somewhere to change your clothes and it falls out, unnoticed. If he knows you’re here, we’ll have to move.” Pretending to be all business, even though I’m sweating like a marathon runner beneath my clothes, I reach around to the back of her waist and find the zipper of her skirt. Sliding it down slowly. Letting it slither down her hot legs and pool around her feet, my palms smoothing eagerly over her buns, squeezing them, before dragging my middle and ring finger up the crack of her ass, feeling that tight rear breach through the thong. Oh my God, she’s sweet. Touching her is making me high. “We’re going to need to take off these cock tease panties, too.”

Jesus, if Russ walked back in right now, I’d never be able to explain this.

I’m sick. I’m immoral.

I’m performing a search that I know damn well isn’t necessary.

But these supple ass cheeks are in my hands and she’s wearing an emerald green thong that fits her like a glove, dividing up her sexy backside, clinging to her hot cunt like it was painted on and there’s no stopping this train now.

I’ve never been alone with Scout. This is why.

Me losing control has always been inevitable.

“I’m taking your panties off now, Scout,” I say into her ear, sounding choked.

“Um…” She shifts against me. “No one has ever taken off my panties before.”

My balls squeeze like they’re in a vise, as does my skull, my soul, every cell in my body. “Are you saying you’re a virgin?”

“Yes,” she whispers, sneaking a look up at me, as if to get my reaction.

I scrub my palms down the slopes of her buttocks and clutch it hard in both hands, erotic visions plaguing me. How easy it would be to bounce her up and down on my cock like a tight little toy. “I already knew, Scout.”

She sucks in a breath. “How?”

I drag her thong down, over the pert cheeks of her ass, past the crease on the underside, letting it drop to midthigh. And immediately I know I overestimated my control. Simply knowing her sex is exposed in my kitchen is enough to make me goddamn feral. My mouth begins to water, my pulse thundering in my ears. The need to spin her around and shove her face down over my table for a fuck is nearly unbearable, but I overcome it, because this obsession with Scout is multifaceted. I want to slake my lust with her body. I want to scare her to keep her from dating. Right now, however, when she is standing in front of me, so soft and warm and trusting, all I want to do is be her hero. Make her feel safe.

These impulses war with each other, turning my head into an inferno.

What should I do? The good side of me begs me to let her go. Set her free.

She’s not in danger from anyone but me, after all.

But she says something to eclipse that last vestige of good inside of me.

Shock blends into the mix when she lifts up onto her toes, pressing her mouth to my jawline. “Should I take my shirt off now?”

My stomach muscles contract so violently, I have to grind my teeth. There is something in her tone of voice that I wasn’t expecting. Is it a hint of…excitement? Is that too much to hope for? I tilt her chin up with two fingers, searching. Hoping. “Do you want to show me those pretty freshman tits, Scout?”

Her eyelids appear to grow heavier. “I…I don’t know.” Her voice falls to a whisper. “I think so.”

Color blossoms in my brain, turning the black and white to vibrant shades of green and scarlet and indigo. She wants to take her shirt off for me? Is this a dream? Perhaps it’s not an authentic crush, though. Maybe she’s just grateful that I am willing to guard her for the weekend when she’s obviously very scared.

Don’t take advantage of that. Don’t.

Lord, I can’t help it.

“I’m not just going to protect you, Scout,” I vow, tucking a long strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “I’m going to catch this motherfucker.”

She seems to be holding her breath. “Really?”

“Yes.” I trace her jawline with my thumb, shaken by how smooth she is everywhere. “In order for me to do that, though, I need to think like him. I need to get inside his head. Do you understand?”

A line forms between her brows, like she’s confused. “How will you do that?”

I should stop this, but it’s too late to turn back now. “By wanting what he wants,” I say, beginning to breathe hard at the sheer anticipation. “By having what he dreams about. That’s how I’m going to get inside of his head, Scout. Starting now.”

The panties around her knees fall the final distance to her ankles. We both see it happen in our periphery and now she starts to breathe faster. Not out of fear. No, I know the difference. Perhaps she’s nervous about exploring new territory with me, but she’s a horny girl and I haven’t let her sow a single oat since she arrived at college. Now? She might be apprehensive, but her caution and judgment are being clouded by hormones.

Lucky man.

Evil man.

Taking advantage of this fresh-faced girl. Entrusted to you by your best friend.

Fuck it. I’d go to hell just to witness a bat of her eyelashes.

“Arms up,” I say, against her mouth, slowly unsnapping the body suit where it fastens against her pussy, letting my fingers brush those sweet lips before pulling the garment up, over her white strapless bra, over her head and tossing it onto the table behind her. There is nothing between me and Scout Snyder but a B-cup bra now—but it’s still too much. My fucking skin is too much of a barrier between me and her. The scant inches of air separating us are offensive to me. I want to be fused to her. Suctioned. And that desire has me hissing breaths through my teeth as I unfasten the front clasp of her bra and watch those perfect titties appear, two ripe, palm-sized fantasies, all peachy flesh and rosy nipples.

Jesus Christ. She’s edible. Literally.

In this moment, I think I might actually be capable of eating her. Sinking my teeth into her and feasting on her delectable flesh, getting her inside of me by any means necessary.

“God knows he’d want to play with these, wouldn’t he?” I say thickly, stumbling forward and skidding the table back another few inches while my palms rake down her tits, massaging them with immoral hands, my cock leaking down the leg of my jeans. Overcome with the fervor I usually handle alone. “He probably jacks himself off thinking about these sweet little breasts. How much they like being touched.”

“How can you tell…they like being touched?” she gasps, arching her back.

“You’re pushing them right into my hands. And these nipples…” I pluck them with my knuckles, two, three times on each side, absorbing the sound of her moan into my bloodstream. “God, baby. Look how fucking stiff they are.”

The longer I fondle her tits and pinch her nipples, the more she starts to whimper and move restlessly against the table. I can’t take my hands off them. I can’t stop splaying my fingers over the entirety of them and arcing my thumbs over those pretty buds in the center. But surely my obsession is beginning to bleed through, so I move on, forcing my hands to move lower along with my wild gaze, caging her hips and gripping, pressing both thumbs into her belly button, before tracking them down to the slit of her cunt, massaging circles into the very top of it.

“Ohhhhh,” she whines, tilting her hips—and I finally look down at her sex to find her bare and glistening. A shiny, virgin treasure that I’ve obtained through foul means, but so be it. Her cunt is a work of art, pure and fresh and wet. “You think he wants to touch me there, too?”

I sound like Satan himself when I answer. “I have no doubt he wants to touch you here most of all, angel. This is what I need to do to get into his head. So I can find him and stop him.”

She nods at me bravely, biting her lip, slowly boosting herself into a sitting position on the edge of the table. “Okay.” She spreads her thighs open just barely an inch and my seed almost bursts out everywhere. Can she not tell at this point that I’m insane? My eyes feel like glowing coals, my skin tighter than new leather. My dick protrudes beneath the zipper of my jeans and rests against her inner thigh. Does she not know what my stiffness means? Or is she too caught up in my touch to register my arousal? “I trust you,” she whispers.

The little conscience I still have weighs down with guilt, but it’s nothing compared to my desperation to possess this girl. “Good, angel.” I spread her pussy flesh open with the pad of my thumb and rub gentle circles on top of her clit, witnessing the death of her innocence up close, the moment she discovers why women like to fuck, as much as men. Because of that little button she’s been keeping just for me—her pet monster. “But let’s be extra clear, I’m the only person you will ever trust. Over your brother, your parents, your god. Everyone. There’s no one but me.”

“I don’t…” She’s slurring her words, her neck loose, barely able to keep her head up. “Why? I don’t understand.”

“You will. Spread your legs.” I groan over the fact that she obeys me without question, rewarding her by moving the pad of my thumb quicker, quicker, firmer, watching moisture seep out of her innocent slit and onto the table. This is my fantasy come to life and I can barely believe it’s happening. What’s more, she’s enjoying it. She’s enjoying the touch of the man who has been forcing her to live in fear. Caged and helpless. I hate myself, but this madness has me in its clutches. It won’t let go. “Put your heels up on the table for me. He probably wakes up every morning wondering what your little holes look like all in a row.”

My God. The way she lifts her feet so easily and props her heels on the very edge of the table, all supple flexibility, while looking me right in the eye, exposing all of herself to me at once, almost sends me to an early grave. She’s open and spread, mewling at the continued torture of my thumb on her clit, her mouth right there in front of me, moist and panting—and my restraint takes another nosedive, urging my lips up against hers.

Closer. Firmer.

And then I’m kissing Scout Snyder.

I’m kissing her beautiful mouth, fucking it with my tongue like it’s my job while I play with that swollen pearl between her thighs. She tastes like an explosion of sunlight and honey and happiness. Redemption and oblivion and sin. She tastes like a lifetime that I need to live.

“Oh, it’s starting to feel like…like m-more…” she stutters, her bare chest heaving up and down. “Like something more is happening.”

I’m making her come. I’m making my angel come, possibly for the first time. Right here and now, I could do away with the pretense that I’m trying to get into her stalker’s head, but if I reveal how badly I need her myself, I will be ripping off the seal that’s keeping my insanity inside. It will come spewing out like a geyser. I’ll conquer her and overwhelm her and dominate her. I might never let her leave this apartment again if I drop this act.

Apparently, I have one shred of decency left, because I can’t. “Good girl. Let it happen. I guarantee your stalker is dreaming about making you come. He’s dreaming of that wet squeeze around his dick and how you’ll buck and hiss for it, like a bitch in heat.” I lick into her mouth to capture her shocked gasp, riding my mouth wide over the top of hers, dying to consume her, letting her know this is how it’s going to be with me. Vile and nasty, down and dirty. Spectacular, too, if she allows it to be. “If I can get you off, baby, I think I’ll understand him better.”

Not a trace of suspicion on her face. “Is the kissing going to help…get me off?”

I kiss her hard, suctioning, lapping at her bottom lip. “Isn’t it, little girl?”

“Yes,” she whispers, opening her lips for mine, letting me plunder and pillage her, juice spilling out from her cunt and wetting my thumb, my wrist, the insides of her thighs. “Oh. Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh, Cash!”

Hearing her say my name while breathless with passion makes me feel immortal. Godlike. Transcendent. But I need it all from her. Everything. “That’s not really what you want to call me, is it?”

She presses her lips together, a combination of indecisive and turned on.

“Call me by the name I want to hear and I’ll give you a special treat,” I rasp, catching her ear with my teeth, trailing my tongue up and down the slope of her neck while my thumb starts moving at the highest possible speed. “The way you’re soaking my fingers tells me you want to say it, Scout. Don’t you want to come and help me catch this stalker of yours?”

After a moment’s hesitation, she says it almost like she’s testing it out. “Daddy.” And then her eyes roll back and she says it again, like a prayer. “Daddy.”

With a growl, I press two fingers deep into her tight, young cunt and she screams, her little orgasming muscles twisting around my digits, her thighs shaking the table so hard, the movement travels through the wooden legs and vibrates the furniture against the ground. “That’s a good girl. You give me what I want and I stuff you full,” I growl right on top of her mouth. “Let that sweetness drip everywhere. I promise I’m not going to let it go to waste.”

Looking her in the eye, I swipe my hand through the little puddle she left on the table, getting my palm good and wet, before shoving it into my jeans.

“What are you doing?” she breathes, watching me with half-mast eyes.

“Becoming him. This is what he’d do with that mess you left,” I wrap my drenched fist around my dick and begin stroking, noting the way she licks the seam of her lips, shifting her hips on the table. God. She’d let me fuck her right now, wouldn’t she?

Don’t do it. You’ll expose yourself.

Hell, I’m so close to outing myself as her obsessed pursuer already, staring her square in the eye while I grunt through increasingly aggressive strokes of my throbbing cock. Harder and harder. Drawing blood from my bottom lip with my teeth, imagining I’m balls deep in her pussy, pounding her like a fucking rag doll while I choke her pretty little throat.

“I’ll kill you if you don’t love me back,” I growl, snapping at her lips.

She blinks. Once, twice. “What?”

“That’s something he would say, isn’t it?” I pant.

“Oh. Y-yes.”

“Say it again. Baby, say it again. Lean back, open your thighs and say it. I’m an angel, but Daddy turns me into a wet slut. Say it. Now.”

She whispers those words back to me and the world breaks apart into thousands of pieces, my dick erupting in my fist, come squelching in my grip while I shove my face into her neck and wring myself out, bellowing at the top of my lungs. It feels like the first time I’ve ever had an orgasm, it’s so intense. And her scent, her shape, her smoothness only drives me higher, past a point I never knew existed until I almost black out.

The climax seems to go on for hours. When I’m finally spent, I thud into a kneeling position, body still quaking with shock over her perfection, landing between her thighs, and attempt to gather myself. Find a remaining conduit to rational thought…and somehow, I locate one, flimsy though it is.

“That was a good start,” I rasp, still overcome, but knowing I have to keep up the ruse or risk going off the deep end if she rejects me or I scare her or a million other things that could go wrong. “I’m getting an idea of how he thinks, but we’ll need to keep this up—”

Before I can finish my sentence, Scout throws herself off the table and sprints naked into my bathroom, locking the door behind her. And two things happen at once. Bad things.

One, my heart almost rips in half over the possibility that I hurt or scared my precious angel. This girl who owned me from the moment I saw her.

Two, by running, she awakens my predatory instincts so fast, I almost choke on them.

“Scout!” I roar, stomping after her.