There’s only one way you’d know that… Stalker.
Me
Your stalker.
Vengeful _Summer
Psycho.
Me
Won’t deny that. Be lucky I’m not going down there to prove to you and everyone else why your body is mine. Your sounds are mine. Your cum will stain that cement, so fucking help me.
She suddenly lifts her head again, slides her sunglasses atop her head, and scans the building directly across from her, eyes landing on me. There’s no physical way for her to see me or even suspect I’m Hunter.
I’ve been careful over the years—never dropping too much about myself, never keeping my accounts open on any screen she might see them on.
She acts different with me as Hunter, which is how I know she believes we’re two people. She admits things she’d never share with me as Levi, oftenaboutme. She’s more open, less frightful of rejection, though all these years later, there perpetually seems to be a barrier between us that keeps her somewhat distanced.
Vengeful _Summer
Prove it. ‘Down there’ means you’re inside one of the buildings, so there’s nothing stopping you.
Me
I’m in my hotel room, so yes, above, but no, I’m not coming down.
Mainly because I can’t.
Luckily, before this conversation goes more off track, there’s a knock at the door and a murmured, “Sir, I have the reports you requested.”
“On the desk, please. Thank you.”
Once the steps fade and my door shuts again, I type a parting message:
Me
You’ll regret daring me. Be prepared for tonight.
Vengeful _Summer
What’s happening tonight?
I leave her onread, on the edge of anticipation for two days in a row, and get to work. Every so often, I catch her checking her phone for a message that doesn’t get delivered.
We eat lunch together as Levi and Summer at one of the casual restaurants. She joins me in the main offices for a tour, checking out all the staff areas and resort secrets that make this placefunction. Our journey ends back in the manager’s office, where I was watching her from before, when my father calls.
She sits on the edge of my desk, swinging her legs while sipping on something yellow and fruity that contrasts her black cover-up draped lower on one shoulder. I may have been watching her in a bikini earlier, but something about the peek of a shoulder has my cock fighting to stay down.
Having her nearby is distracting while my father rambles on about…stuff. Yet, this is what I envision for the future: Summer living a life of luxury and relaxation after surviving years of emotional, verbal, and physical abuse. We’ll tour the world, do whatever the hell we want, and never stress again.
“How’s Summer?” Dad’s question gains both our attention. She sets her glass to the side and stares at the phone, as if my father’s about to come through the screen.
“She’s good. Enjoying the beach and all the hotel’s facilities.”
“I see.” Dad sniffs, clearly swallowing his real feelings about her presence. “She’s not too distracting?”
Her cheeks redden, but I’m more focused on the expanse of tan legs only a few inches from my arm, and I’m fighting to not stroke my fingers up her skin.