Page 2 of Christmas Stalking

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The one word sends a jolt of electricity from the base of my spine down to my cock. What the fuck? Why am I reacting to one word so violently? I backtrack and try to make out the figure behind the voice, but I can’t see anything but darkness and a vague silhouette in the thin crack between the door and the frame. The silver safety chain is the only bit of color.

“I want you.” The admission slips out. Inside the house, I hear a gasp. Four fingers curl around the edge of the frame. I don’t know if she’s going to shut the door or open it. I shove my shoe in that small space. Witch or not, this woman is going to be mine. I don’t care if she’s eighteen or eighty. “I’m Jackson Knight. My number is—” I reel it off. “Your turn.”

“I’m not giving my number to a stranger on my doorstep. Do you think I’m crazy?”

“No. I think you’re mine.”

CHAPTER2

BELL

I’m his?My heart sinks. I’m both scared and confused at the same time. I didn’t even know it was possible to be both at once. There is no way this man is my stalker. In fact, based on his looks, he’s the kind of man women stalk. Still, why is he saying I’m his? It has to be my stalker. How did he find me?

Also, why is he so boldly walking right up to my door? Before now, it’s only been creepy letters and emails. The occasional food or flowers delivered. It has escalated to him breaking into my home when I wasn’t there. He’s gone through my things and took a shower in the master bathroom. That was the last straw. I knew I had to get away. That it would only get worse if I didn’t.

“Move your foot.” I try to keep my voice firm. The handsome man doesn’t budge. “I will not repeat myself.”

“If I move my foot, you’re going to close the door.”

“If you don’t move your foot, I’ll shoot you.” His lips twitch, making his face look even more handsome.

“Don’t smile! I’m serious. I’ll do it.” My hand grips the handle of the gun tighter. I bought it online. I got mace too, but it scared me. I thought with how clumsy I can be at times that I’d end up getting it in my own eyes.

“What’s your name?” I try again. I grit my teeth. Why does no one take me seriously? Is it because I’m only a few inches over five feet or that more often than not I have paint smeared across my cheek?

“I’ll give you to the count of three to get off my porch, mister,” I say in the sternest voice I can muster.

“Told you. Name’s Jackson Knight.” I ignore him. Why is his bossiness making excitement bubble up inside of me? Probably, because this is the first time I’ve talked face to face with anyone in at least a week. I mostly keep to myself. I mean, it seems like the smart thing to do when you have a stalker.

“One.”

“I’m counting, not you!” I hiss. What is wrong with this man?

“Two.” His smile grows.

“One.” I lift the gun and aim it through the small opening. I scream, dropping the taser gun as things shoot out of it. One hits the man’s arm. He grunts as he starts to fall forward, his shoulder connecting with my door. I jump back when the chain gives way. It’s no match for his weight. He catches himself before he falls.

“Oh noes.” I gasp when he rips the thing out of his arm.

“Oh noes.” He repeats what I said before he sucks in a deep breath, his eyes closing for a moment. When they open again, it’s like nothing happened. His face is unreadable.

“Hey, did it not work? That thing cost five hundred dollars.” I fold my arms over my chest, upset that I got ripped off. He flicks the switch next to the door, flooding my living room with light. He stares at me for a long moment with the greenest eyes I’ve ever seen before he bends over and picks up the taser off the floor. “Bullshit,” I mutter.

“It wasn’t a terrible shot. Don’t be hard on yourself. I was trained to take one.”

“Clearly.” I snort, motioning to it in his hand.

“I meant to take the shot.” He chuckles.

Why does he have to be so damn handsome? His smile meets his eyes, causing little lines to appear. I take them in along with his strong jawline and the bump on his nose. If I had to guess it’s because it’s been broken, more than once. Somehow it only adds to his appeal. The roughness is a contrast to his fancy suit. He’s intriguing. I can’t help but be drawn to him, which I know is absurd. I have no doubt I’ll end up drawing him. I mean, if he doesn’t kill me.

“I’ll take that.” I try to grab it out of his hand, but he pulls it back.

“Careful.” He messes with it before setting it on the table in my entryway. “Don’t want you hurting yourself.”

“Seriously?” I roll my eyes. “You broke into my house.” I point to my chain hanging from the door.

“I’ll fix it.” He shrugs. “Are you going to tell me your name now?”


Tags: Ella Goode Romance