13. Elle

13

ELLE

I lie in the darkness pretending to be asleep, hoping that he will come back and visit me again.

It’s been over a week since I found my necklace on the counter in my kitchen and while I should be terrified at the thought of a stranger sneaking into my apartment while I sleep, I’m nothing but eager to catch him in the act.

Night after night, I try my hardest to fight my heavy eyelids, but the exhaustion that hits me after a long shift at the hospital always wins, and I wake up in the morning filled with disappointment at not seeing him. But I’m yet to be discouraged.

The moment the sun sets, I climb into bed and sit staring at my open window as my apartment is slowly cast in darkness, waiting for him to appear in the shadows.

I wonder if he stands outside my apartment, looking up at my window and imagining me standing there completely naked for him to enjoy?

I knew that my little show the other night would do the trick of enticing him into my apartment, but I’m reluctant to do it again in case he isn’t the only one out there watching me…

I should be repulsed by the thought of him being out there, spying on me. But I can’t help but like the idea of him being the only one who gets to see me like that.

Though, I am desperate to know just how much he enjoyed it.

From what I remember of him when he carried me in his arms out of that motel room, he felt broad and muscular, and so warm .

As I lie in my bed, a dull ache starts to build between my legs at the thought of him, but my imagination is having to fill in the blanks, considering I don’t have much to go on.

And yet, it still works.

Fantasizing over a man spying on my naked body and sneaking into my bedroom to watch me sleep gets me seriously worked up to the point where I barely have to rub my fingers over my clit before I’m crying out with release.

Which is exactly what I’ve done every night this week.

Am I so starved for male attention that having a stalker is more of a turn on than a turn off?

Considering the fact that my last hookup was with a guy at my work Christmas party almost a year ago that lasted less than two minutes, I’d say yes.

It’s thoughts like this that would have Lucia booking me into the psych ward.

While she’s not brought it up since I admitted the truth to her over lunch the other day, I don’t take her silence for acceptance. So, I’ve kept quiet about my secret stalker, especially considering the fact that my fantasies have only gotten worse since I found he’s been sneaking inside my apartment.

I imagine him climbing in through my window to find me lying naked on my bed, my fingers pumping in and out of my slick pussy.

He’s so overcome with arousal that he can’t help but take over, finishing me off with his tongue before undoing his pants and thrusting his cock inside me so hard that I scream with pleasure.

Other times, I imagine myself being roused from sleep to find his head between my thighs as he gently licks and sucks at my clit. He would build my pleasure so slowly that I would be whimpering with the need to come, and still he wouldn’t give me what I wanted.

Only when I begged and begged for release would he finally give in, wrapping his lips around my swollen clit and sucking on the sensitive bud so that I come so hard I see stars.

A moan escapes my lips as I indulge in my secret fantasies.

My pussy clenches, so desperate to be filled by him, but I fight the urge to reach between my thighs and sink two fingers inside myself to try and relieve the ache.

An orgasm would only aid in sending me to sleep, and that’s the last thing I want to do.

I promised myself that tonight will be different.

I had a rare day off today from the hospital, and I spent most of it asleep on the couch in the hopes of staying awake tonight. But just to be sure, I went out after dinner and got myself a triple espresso to drink in bed instead of my usual chamomile tea just to be on the safe side.

I’m not normally one for caffeine after lunch time because I’m so sensitive to it, so I can pretty much guarantee that I won’t be falling asleep any time soon.

As I lie in bed, my heart starts to race in my chest, though I can’t tell if it’s from all the caffeine or from the excitement at the prospect of seeing him . So, I close my eyes and start to mentally recite the Russian alphabet backwards to try and calm myself down.

I’m halfway through when a noise sounds outside my window, and I freeze.

Was someone knocking into the iron railing of my fire escape?

My pulse quickens.

Is that him?

It’s possible I might be so desperate for him to appear, and so wound up from the caffeine, that I’m hallucinating.

So, I peel one eye open and glance at the window, almost crying out at the sight of a large shadow hovering outside.

It’s him . He ’s here.

I hold my breath as his shadow moves outside the window. For a moment, I fear he might leave, and I almost give myself away by begging him to stay. But then his shadow shifts, and he slowly steps through the open window into my apartment.

Holy shit.

I screw my eyes shut once more and try my best to breathe slowly and deeply to feign the appearance of sleep.

For the last week, I’ve wanted nothing more than for him to sneak into my room, but now that he’s actually here, I’m overcome with panic as I realize how reckless I’ve been.

I don’t know anything about this man or what he’s capable of. He could kill me right here, right now.

Didn’t he tell me to keep my window locked? Was that his way of warning me to protect myself from him?

I frown at the thought.

None of his actions adds up to him being a true danger. After all, he could have killed me in that motel room, or the cabin, or even when he snuck in a few days ago while I was sleeping.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he chose to save my life, which means I can’t help but trust him.

Biting my lip, I peel open my eyes to find him standing in the shadows in the corner by the window.

His face is still masked by the darkness, so I can’t make out any of his features, which irritates me more than anything.

Why won’t he reveal himself?

My need for the truth is greater than the fear that has settled itself in my chest.

Who knows when I’ll get another chance like this to confront him again, so before I can talk myself out of it, I sit bolt upright in bed and catch him off guard.

He immediately backs up toward the window, clearly spooked by the fact that I’m awake, and panic floods me at the thought of him bolting.

“Don’t go.” I reach out my hand toward him.

I’m not sure if he can even see the gesture in the darkness, but he makes no further attempt to leave, which I take as a good sign.

“I…I just want to talk.”

“That’s not a good idea.”

Goosebumps break out over my skin at the sound of his voice.

My memory doesn’t do it justice. It's gravellier and rougher than I remember and sexy as hell.

What I would give to hear him whisper in my ear as he fucked me slowly, to moan my name as he came inside me?—

“Please,” I beg, ignoring the building ache between my thighs. “I need answers. ”

He’s silent, and I take that as my cue to continue.

There’s so much I want to ask him, so much I want to know, that I’m unsure of where to start. So, I decide to ask the first question that comes to mind.

“The day I was kidnapped… How did you know I was in trouble? Were you following me then too?”

“I’m always watching you.”

I let his words sink in for a moment.

He’s always watching me .

Not my apartment, or the hospital where I work.

Me .

Was he there the night I ended up vomiting in a back alley after Lucia and I went out drinking? Or perhaps when I brought a guy back to my old studio apartment, and we couldn’t make it to my bed before tearing each other’s clothes off, so I ended up fucking him on my couch in full view of my window.

“Oh, my god.” I realize the extent of all he could have witnessed.

The ache between my thighs is unbearable as I consider the possibility that he’s watched me have sex with another man. It’s so dirty and wrong, and yet I’ve never been more aroused, especially at the thought of him pleasuring himself at the sight of me climaxing.

“I’m sorry, I…I shouldn’t be here.” His voice snaps me back to the present.

He moves toward the window, but I’m not ready for him to go yet, not when we’ve barely talked.

“Please,” I choke. “I want you to stay. It's the only way I'll sleep.”

Maybe admitting such a truth to him is a mistake, but I want him to see it as an offer of trust. I want him to know that I’m not afraid of him.

My heart races as I wait for him to ignore my request.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he moves closer until he’s perching on the end of my bed.

The mattress dips from his weight.

He’s so close that I can hear the sound of his breathing, but still, I can’t see anything more than the outline of his body.

All it would take is for me to lean over and switch on the light, and he would be revealed to me. But I don’t want to break his trust and risk losing him when I’ve barely had a chance to know him.

“Tell me something.” I bring my knees up to my chest, hugging them tightly.

“About what?”

I eye the dark outline of his body, so desperate to reach out and touch him.

If he learned of how slick I was between my thighs at the thought of him watching me, would he finally lose control? Would he finally trust me enough to reveal himself?

“You know everything about me and yet, I know nothing about you.”

“That’s literally the definition of stalking.”

“Is that what you’re doing? Stalking me?”

“I think you already know the answer to that.”

I swallow, waiting for the fear to finally hit me. But with each passing second, I only seem to grow more relaxed in his presence.

“What do you want to know about me?”

Despite him being willing to open up a little, I can tell from the slight edge in his voice that he feels uncomfortable, and I don’t want to risk pushing him away. Especially when it’s taken me this long to get another chance to speak to him .

“Whatever you’re willing to share.”

He’s quiet for a moment, but the silence doesn’t feel uncomfortable.

“The last time I felt truly happy was when my mother was alive.”

My chest tightens at his words, and I find my hand reaching for my necklace as I think of my own mother. I’m well aware of the kind of grief that haunts him.

“How did she die?”

“She was sick. But it was a quick illness.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“After she died, I was sent to live with my father.” He pauses, as if deciding on how much to tell me, and I can’t help but stifle a yawn as I’m hit with a wave of tiredness.

It seems the adrenaline of having a stranger sneak into my bedroom has worn off, and I’m back to fighting the urge to sleep.

“My being here is meant to be helping you sleep, not preventing it.”

“I’ll try and sleep.”

Though I highly doubt I’ll get even a wink of sleep with all the caffeine currently making its way around my bloodstream, I settle down against my pillows, soothed by the knowledge that he’s watching over me.

“Thank you for being honest with me,” I whisper into the darkness as I pull the covers up around my shoulders. “I hope that in time, you’ll want to share more.”

"Trust me," he murmurs as my eyelids grow heavy. "The less you know about me the better."