Stalker

Chapter 4

Lisa

I stare at her as she touches herself between her legs. Her moans cause my cock to twitch in my slacks, but I ignore it for now. For now, I'm concerned about her. How careless was she to go off and get drunk with that asshole, Slante. Christ, he was seconds away from fucking her against the goddamned cab had I not intervened when I did. Jennie was wasted. Poor woman slept the entire way to her place, mumbling from time to time unintelligibly. I'd had the cabbie take us to her apartment building where I proceeded to carry her up three flights of stairs because the shitty elevator was broken. When I'd seen she had three locks engaged, fury bubbled up inside me. She shouldn't be living in a piece-of-shit building. Not with what I pay her. After breaking into her computer, I took it upon myself to look at her file in Chanwoo's cabinet. I'm the CEO after all, so her personal file is my business if I say it is.

Address.

Age.

Background.

I found everything I needed, including her salary. Her salary was enough to where she didn't have to live in a shit hole like this. I'll figure out this little mystery. Find out where her money is going. Until then, though, I simply stare at her.

Getting an unconscious woman undressed and under the covers is difficult, even for a fit and able person like myself. Her loose limbs and limp body made for a frustrating twenty minutes. Eventually, I got her naked.

I peel away the covers and take another peek before I go hunting. Her perky tits have the sexiest bitable nipples right in the center of each one. Just looking at them has me nearly coming in my slacks. I'm going to feast on them one day. Not today. One day. Her stomach is flat and her hipbones are showing. The woman could stand to eat a little more. I make a mental note to deal with that problem as well. Her pussy is shaved smooth. The urge to push my finger inside of her is overwhelming, but I fist my hand and ignore the urge.

I notice everything about her.

Her smooth brown hair fanned out on the cream-colored pillow underneath her head. Those fuckable lips of hers are parted as she sleeps. Long, dark lashes rest on her pink cheeks.

I want to shake her shoulders and yell at her. To wake her up and explain to her how stupid she's been. A woman who looks like her doesn't need to go off with men she barely knows late at night. Men like Sean Slante could take advantage of her.

A growl rumbles in my throat at the memory of him with his hands on her. I'd watched them through the window of the bar. Sure, he'd played the good guy, but I could see the desire in his eyes. I saw the way he gripped her ass as if it belonged to him.

She does not belong to him.

Jennie lets out a moan before muttering a name.

Kai.

Who the fuck is Kai?

Once again, I fist my hand to keep from grabbing her by the jaw and waking her up by telling her what a naïve woman she is.

Stalking away so I don't do exactly that, I begin to look through her drawers. Everything is neat and has a place. There isn't one ounce of clutter. Just like her desk at the office. It makes me wonder what she's hiding. People who are minimalists do so in order to hide something big about themselves. If they have everything in a place, then they don't have to stress about their past or shortcomings slipping through the cracks amidst the mess. They are able to keep a careful watch on every detail in their lives by keeping it all under the lid where it belongs.

I know this because I am this way.

My home is immaculate.

My business is organized.