Thirst a dark stalker ro.., p.1
Thirst : A Dark Stalker Romance, page 1
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Title Page
About This Book
Author Note
Also by L.A. Wayward
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Epilogue
She escaped me once, but I’m back to claim what’s mine
They say I’m crazy, public enemy number one
I kill others with a smile on my face
I’m the king in the shadows who hunts those that deserve it
And now I’ve come to collect
Paxton is the only one that recognized the darkness inside
The anger that consumes me
I’ll make her scream
Beg
And she’s going to love every second of it
Paxton is the one that opened my eyes, and wasn’t scared of the monster I’ve become
The hunt is on and she’s the prize
I’m not stopping until I get what I want
Sweet dreams baby, I’m coming for you
*Trigger, Trigger, Trigger. This book contains 18 + dark sexual themes, CNC, non-con, dub-con, knife play, proceed at your own risk if you dare.*
♥
If you have the time, please leave a review on Amazon or Goodreads. You’ll get a sparkly unicorn, and my virtual hug in return!!! ;)
The Nashville Outlaws series
Make It Burn #1
Ranger Danger
Standalones Coming Soon
X My Heart
Just Shred
The Page In Between
Firestarter
Moonlight
Copyright © 2022 by L.A. Wayward
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior consent of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial use permitted by copyright law which would be super rad.
Resemblance to actual persons and things living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. The author, me again, acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication and use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
ISBN Ebook edition: 978-90-830744-6-7
Editor: Amy Briggs, Briggs Consulting
Proofreading: Sarah at All Encompassing Books
Cover Design: Kendra Moreno, Rabbit Hole Graphics
Formatting: Stacey Blake, Champagne Book Design
Visit my website at www.lawayward.com
Jonathan
Thirteen years ago
“Where the fuck are you?” I mutter as I check the red dot on my phone from the darkness of her closet. Sweat drips down the side of my face. I fucking hate New Orleans in the summer, but I will happily hide between her clothes for weeks if it means I get to watch her sleep. My little obsession is standing outside the barn talking to Darlene, her best friend who dropped her off. I’m glad her father and brothers fixed up this place for her; I got tired of creeping up the stairs in the main house and waiting for one of them to shoot me in the ass with a shotgun for being the stalker I’ve become since the moment I laid eyes on her.
The other girl says something and Paxxie laughs. Fuck I like her laugh. The nerdy chick isn’t a threat. I did some research, and she has a boyfriend. They go out on Friday at the local bar using their fake ID’s. I even paid the bouncer to keep an eye out for my girl and gave him extra to make sure no guy could come near her. Lucky for me she hasn’t been interested in any of the fuckers who throw themselves at her. No, she’s mine, and in an hour her pussy is going to be my dessert. No one will hear her scream when I lick her cunt dry while she sleeps. My heartrate kicks up a notch thinking about what I’ve been doing to her the last couple of weeks. I’ve watched Paxton toss and turn in her sleep, her moans getting me hard while she kicked the covers from her long legs and stretched those pretty thighs for my hungry gaze.
I drop by almost every night when I don’t have an assignment. It started by jerking off into her panties as I watched her sleep, a week later I moved to the foot of her bed and came while I pulled the sheets back revealing those creamy thighs and pink underwear stretched tight over her little cunt. For a gun-toting, bounty-hunting badass, she likes to wear girly lace panties. Another area where I’m a lucky son of a bitch. Hungrily, I watch the red dot move and hear her open the door. I hate the fact she doesn’t lock it; she has no idea how many assholes want to have a taste. I silently chuckle, me being one of them.
I watch her flick on her twinkling lights as she walks around the room; more like sways. Fuck, is my girl drunk? Leaning my forehead against the tiny opening of the closet I watch her throw her phone on the nightstand before she puts on some 80s song. Humming to the tune, she takes her clothes off and heads into the bathroom to pee, she leaves the door open so I can keep an eye on her. I listen to the sound and lean my back against the wall, disappearing into the darkness again. She flushes the toilet, washes her hands and stumbles back into her room, opening the back clasp of her bra while she dances to the music. I have to stifle a groan by biting hard on the inside of my cheek when those tiny tits spring free.
She flops down on the bed and grabs her phone; I do the same and watch what she’s looking at. And fuck me, there is no way to stop the thickening of my cock; Paxton is scanning through the pictures attached to the file I had my best friend put together.
“Jonathan,” she whispers, rasping my name.
I smile, and my chest swells with pride. I’m leaving in a fucking week for Africa. Life as a hitman is hard, but having an obsession with a girl who is barely eighteen to my twenty-five has been eating me alive. I want to own her, I want to fuck her, eat her out, fuck her in the ass until she’s begging me to stop, and then do it all over again. I want to disappear inside her. She turns off the lights and I smirk, the anticipation of what I’m about to do gives me goosebumps. The music stops and after a couple of seconds I crawl on my knees to the tiny opening of her closet, watching as she runs a hand over her breasts down to her pussy. She doesn’t tear her pretty eyes away from the picture of me wearing a balaclava and pointing my shotgun at the security camera. I push my phone in my back pocket and wet my lips when those thighs part even wider, and she pushes her fingers in her greedy virgin cunt. Her back arches and she moans while her feet curl in the sheets.
I ball my fists. I thirst for her. I want her, hell I fucking need her.
“Yes,” she moans, and the sound of her fingers disappearing into her folds is like music to my depraved ears. Slowly without making a sound, I open the door and crawl on my stomach to the foot of her bed, all the while watching her push her panties to the side, revealing her moonlit wet mound to my hungry eyes. The floorboard creaks and I curse silently while she stops swirling her fingers around.
“Oh please, fuck me harder,” she whimpers as I lean against her elevated bed with my back. I listen to the sounds her pussy makes as she rubs and groans trying to get herself off. I rearranged the mirror on her desk so I can watch her from the floor without her noticing me.
She lets out a frustrated sigh, and I have to stroke my thick erection digging against my fly. Slowly I open the top button and ease the zipper down, watching while she pushes another finger in and thrashes on the bed to chase her release. My pulse is loud in my ears, damn, I hope she doesn’t hear it, or maybe some sick part of me wants her to. She massages her breast with her other hand, plucking the nipple into a hard peak, waiting for a firm touch.
Waiting for me.
For my cock.
My hands, my tongue.
“Please,” she pants, as her thighs shoot together, and her breathing quickens. I know she’s going to come soon, and I have to fight the urge to take her now. My lips tilt as I push my hand down the front of my boxers and release my cock. I swallow hard and watch her rub her clit, while I spread the pre-cum at the tip of my bulbous head over my vein-lined shaft.
“Fuck,” she bites out, and I stop stroking myself. My eyes widen as I listen to her breathing even out. Damn, did she hear me?
She makes a strangled sound like she’s in pain, so I scan the frustrated emotion mirrored on her face. No, my girl is horny as fuck. I’ve always had trouble guessing people’s emotions, but with her something always clicks. With another sigh she turns her back to me and opens the drawer of her nightstand to produce a purple dildo. The thing is a fraction smaller than my dick. I watch her wedge the fucking thing between her legs. My blood starts to pulse, it should be my dick she’s begging to ride. Damn. I turn around as well, and peek over the edge, watching little Paxxie yank her underwear between her firm ass cheeks, as she straddles the dildo.
Holy shit, come on, baby girl, ride that dick; pretend it’s mine. She places her hands firmly in the sheets and roughly starts fucking the dildo through her panties. I can smell her arousal, and another drop of cum seeps from my tip, while I clutch her sheets between my fists. Her thighs tremble as she rocks her hips, back and forth, side to side while I pump my hand up and down my rigid shaft.
“Please, Jonathan,” she begs. Moaning my name again my chest swells, she’s imagining riding me. Me. I stifle another groa
Swearing, she flings the dildo across the room, the fucker lands at my feet. I pick it up and see it glistens with her wetness. Paxxie is aroused, but she needs her man to get her off, I think as my eyelids droop and I run my tongue over the warm surface of the dildo. I keep the moan, almost escaping my lips, lodged in my throat while my eyes travel to the back of my head from the sensation of her sweetness on my lips.
I look in the mirror and watch her turn on her back, her panties are drenched and stick to her pussy lips.
“Fuck me, Jonathan,” she whispers, so low I can barely hear it.
My heart stops for a second. I’m going to give her what she wants, but she has to go to sleep first. Sweat runs down my temple and spine, the fucking anticipation is killing me as I listen to her breathing even out. After waiting for what feels like an eternity, I stand. My dick is still hard, and when I watch her push one arm above her head while the other rests on her stomach my cock slaps against my six-pack. Gritting my teeth, I push him back inside my boxers. I’m not going to come, she’s the one I want to lose my virginity to. I saved myself for her, she’s the only pussy I’m ever going to have in my fucked-up life.
Paxxie sighs and murmurs something I can’t make out. I place my hands on the bed and run my eyes over her body. My name slips from her lips again, and as I move up the bed my mouth is an inch from hers. Smiling, I can smell the vodka on her breath. Naughty little girl. Lowering my mouth to hers, I brush my lips over hers. She sighs, and my dick pulses. I move down, slowly peel her panties off, and wait for her to open her eyes. But she doesn’t, instead she widens her thighs even more. It’s like her body knows I’m here to make her come. I push the lace against my nose and inhale deep, her smell filling my lungs before I stick them into my back pocket. Moisture seeps from her slit, and she moans. Yes, she’s my fucking girl.
Positioning myself on my front in a direct line with her pussy I inhale again before pushing the tip of my tongue against her nub. Pax groans in her sleep and pushes her cunt against my mouth. I swirl my tongue around her clit and feel it pulsing under me. Damn she tastes sweet. This is the best part of my day, lying here between her thighs. Killing a man doesn’t come close, it’s her pussy giving me the escape I need. I start lashing her cunt with deep, even strokes, the tiny nub growing more swollen, her folds flushing with slickness.
Still sleeping, she bows up and starts rocking her sex against my mouth. Sucking her clit between my teeth, I alternate between licking up and down her lips, before penetrating her wet center with my tongue. Her cunt clenches and she moans again, repeating my name. My balls draw tight, and my dick is screaming for release, but I’m not going to give myself the satisfaction of coming in my pants like a horny teenager. Her dripping pussy is the only thing I need right now. She hollows her back, arching into my touch. Feeling bold I slip my hands under her ass and stab her clit over and over with my tongue. Lust kicks through my veins as I dry hump the bed, and I come, spilling my seed in my boxers. A vein throbs in my temple and I swear, cursing myself for having found my release before my girl. Her breath quickens, and I dart my tongue up and down before shoving in deep, and she sighs—the orgasm washing over her. Pax’s pussy muscles squeeze around my mouth, she lets out a shaky breath before her limbs turn slack and fall back into the sheets, her cunt still pulsing against my nose.
I grab her panties from my pocket and wipe my face, and stare at her swollen and wet sex. “Not long now,” I whisper, kissing her clit before she turns on her side and I pull the sheets over her naked body. She sighs and a smile tugs on her lips while I adjust my belt and return to the shadows again. I go and grab my leather jacket before I climb down her window to make the long trek to my bike parked at the side of the main road leading to her parents’ house. I pull out my phone and hit my best friend’s number, her scent still filling my nose.
“Privyet, asshole,” he says, his voice thick from sleep, his Russian accent making me smile.
“It’s game time, baby,” I drawl, and he laughs in response.
“You sure? She might shoot you for real and haul your ass to jail if your little suka plan doesn’t work.”
“Oh, it will work, fucker,” I grunt, my cock aching, and desperately pleading for her cunt.
“Okay, sweetheart, it’s your funeral,” he replies, ending the call.
“It’s hers.” I laugh, and push my helmet over my head while I straddle my bike. I give her place one last longing look, rev the engine, and make my way downtown counting down the days before she’s truly mine.
Paxton
A week later
“Are you ready for your first arrest?” my father asks as we drive through a shady part of New Orleans. I check the rearview mirror and nod, watching my brothers follow in the car behind us.
“I am,” I tell him, my voice a little shaky, while I scan the grainy picture attached to the file Mom put together on the iPad. Jonathan Reeves, twenty-something years old. In and out of juvi since the age of twelve. Wanted for an armed robbery at a 7-Eleven downtown.
It should be a textbook arrest. I repeat my mom’s words in my head. I’ve trained years for this moment. Fidgeting in my seat, I take a deep breath, trying to get my racing heart under control. The last few weeks I’ve been on edge, aching and waking up with my pussy throbbing like the man of my dreams made me come. Sometimes I can’t even find my panties. I’ve been a sound sleeper since I was young, nothing wakes me up, not even the sirens when I was a kid or when hurricane Katrina made landfall, and our bounty hunting office was covered in mud and water.
Dad places his hand on my knee. “You’re going to do great, Paxton; you were born for this,” he says reassuringly.
“Thanks, Pa.” I run my fingers over the picture of the target. He has his shotgun pointed at the camera, his face obscured by the black balaclava he’s wearing.
The intel we got from a local tweaker said Reeves is holed up on the top floor of an abandoned building. I memorized his file last night in bed and stared at his picture for longer than I probably should have. The way the guy is standing so nonchalantly, without a care in the world and wearing all black screams danger, and my clit twitches while I squirm in my seat. He holds his face a little to the side like he’s taunting the camera, mocking me. It shouldn’t turn me on, but during the night I kept tossing and turning fantasizing about the suspect pinning me to the bed with his big body, while his hand roughly pushed my lace panties aside before he entered me from behind. I circled my fingers over my clit imagining him cutting off my screams with his hand, all the while wearing the damn mask whispering dirty things in my ear.
Focusing on the road ahead, I know I won’t find a guy like him. Normal people do not have sexual fantasies about a man wearing a mask while he fucks you raw as you’re begging him to screw you harder, faster, until you come, gasping for air.
“Kid?” Dad asks, “You okay?”
“Sorry, I was just thinking,” I say apologetically, my cheeks heating.
“Keep your head in the game; if you’re not ready, you should tell us,” he says, his voice stern.
“No, I’m good. I can do this.”
He nods and parks the car in the alley behind the building, and without saying another word I follow him out. Rain drizzles down. Welcome to New Orleans during hurricane season.
“Okay, sis?” Billy my middle brother asks, trying to ruffle a hand through my black curls.
I swat his fingers away. “Watch the hair asshole,” I jokingly warn.
My oldest brother, Dalton, shakes his head and gives me a reassuring smirk. “This should be an easy one, like dipping your toes in the water.”
My father lights a cigarette and nods, his eyes gleaming. Our family has been bounty hunting since my great-grandfather started the business over sixty years ago. I want to make them all proud. The James family has walked both sides of the law ever since my great-grandfather, Jesse, tricked everyone into thinking he was dead and spent his last days in New Orleans.
