Stalk Her Hard, page 1
Stalk Her Hard
Filthy Dirty Desires
Hope Ford
Contents
1. Sara
2. Daniel
3. Sara
4. Daniel
5. Sara
6. Daniel
7. Sara
8. Daniel
9. Sara
10. Daniel
11. Sara
Epilogue
Whiskey Run Series
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About the Author
Stalk Her Hard © 2022 by Hope Ford
Editor: Kasi Alexander
Cover Design: Cormar Covers
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Chapter 1
Sara
I’m pushing his hand. I know I am.
But something has to be done. We definitely can’t continue like this.
I started working at Tate Marketing exactly three weeks ago, and since then, my world has been turned upside down. It’s not the job. I love the job. It’s challenging, and as a junior marketing executive, I’m learning so much.
No, what has completely messed me up is the fact that I’m being stalked... by my boss.
It's been like this since day one. The day I came and interviewed for the job with Mr. Tate. I was hired on the spot. I'm good at what I do. I create ad copy and ad campaigns that sell. I've definitely proven myself in the short amount of time that I've been here, but I've learned that it might be possible that Mr. Tate hired me for other reasons.
I knew when I interviewed there was some chemistry. I felt it for sure. I knew it was a bad idea to accept the job, but he made it to where there was no way I could have turned it down. The pay he started me at is high, and I don’t know any entry level marketing position that pays what he pays me.
When I accepted, I planned to just suck it up. I could work with him and let my little annoying crush dwindle away. Surely, he’d end up being an ass that yells or he’d be arrogant and ruthless. But it didn’t work out that way. If anything, he’s patient and ethical. He goes out of his way to help his employees, and he’s fair. Which makes me want him even more.
On the second day on the job, I started getting texts from him. Completely inappropriate texts, but I didn’t care. He told me he liked my skirt, and I wore one just like it, but shorter, the next day. He told me he liked my hair down, and it hasn’t been up since. It’s not been anything too out of the way, but each and every text holds the promise for more.
And then I felt him watching me. Anywhere I went, there was someone following me, but no matter how hard I looked, I never saw anyone. At one point, I was scared. It must have literally been on my face because I got a text from Mr. Tate.
“Don’t be scared. It’s me.”
I remember looking at my phone, wide-eyed. Mr. Tate was following me.
I remember going home and drawing the shades to my apartment over my parents’ garage. I was nervous, knowing that a man—a much older man—was following me. But the more I thought about it, the more excited I got. So excited that I started to enjoy it and play with him a little. I went to an “R” rated movie and watched it. I know he was there, but he never showed his face to me. When I got home that night, he sent me texts, innocent at first, asking me what I liked about it. But then the texts got bolder. He told me what he wanted to do to me, how he wanted to bend me over his desk and make me his.
So it became a game. I looked for ways to tantalize him, and he continued to flirt on text and secretly stalk me. But at work, it was like there was nothing between us. When we were face to face, it was like he was looking at a stranger. I couldn’t read anything in his eyes when all I could think about was his fantasy, of bending over his desk and letting him have me.
So here we are. I’ve ignored all his texts today at work, leaving them unread. It’s killing me to know what he’s saying, but I’m determined to push his hand. One way or another, this is going to end.
“You look beautiful, where are you off to?”
I look at my coworker Christy. She’s been a good friend to me since I started here. She’s patiently taught me all the ins and outs of everything. I smile at her and try to seem excited. “I have a date.”
Her face brightens. “Ooooh, a date? That’s so exciting. With who? Where are you going?”
I’m loud as I answer her even though I don’t really think I need to be. It seems that Mr. Tate knows everything already, but I do it anyway. “It’s a guy I went to college with. He’s asked me out a few times, and I finally agreed. It’s time for me to start dating.”
Christy sits on the edge of my desk. “And where are you going?”
“Just to dinner. We’re going to try out that new Italian restaurant that opened up down the street last week.”
Christy snaps her fingers. “Antonio’s? You’ll have to let us know how the food is and we can all go to lunch there one day.”
I grab my purse out of my drawer and put it over my shoulder. I have on my black leather skirt. I hemmed it last night, and it’s now two inches shorter from the last time I wore it. My shirt is a thin material that cuts low on my chest. I’m showing way too much thigh and too much cleavage, but right now, I don’t care. “I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow. See you in the morning.”
I wave bye to her and to a few of my other coworkers that are still here. I don’t even have to look up at the 2nd level; I can feel Mr. Tate’s eyes on me. But the ding of my phone in my purse is a dead giveaway. I almost reach for it, but I don’t. I step outside of the building and take a deep breath. I’m glad I told Ronald to meet me at the restaurant. I need to get myself together.
I take my time walking down the street. My phone rings, and I reach in my purse to grab it. Mr. Tate has never called me, but when I look at the caller ID, I see it’s him. I hit decline on the call and keep walking.
I figure he’ll call back, but he doesn’t. Quit thinking about him, I tell myself.
I drop my phone in my purse and cut the corner just a few feet from Antonio’s, and there stands Mr. Tate, leaning against the brick wall. He straightens as I get near. I look at him and then the door to the restaurant. I can ignore him, but I remind myself that he is still my boss.
I stop when he steps in my path. “Mr. Tate.”
His jaw is set, and I swear I can hear his heart beating in his chest. “Don’t do this, Sara.”
I look up at him innocently. “Do what?”
He points at the door of the restaurant. “This.”
I blink as if I’m clueless. “What? Go on a date?”
His jaw tightens even more, making me worried he’s going to break something in his mouth or something. “Yes. Don’t go on this date.”
I jut my chin at him. He’s mad. I can see that he’s livid, and it makes me wish I’d never made these stupid plans. But then I remember why I did it. I can’t continue on like this. If he wants me, he’s going to have to make a move. “It’s too late to cancel. I’m doing it.”
I step around him and get a foot past him when his hand goes to my wrist. He stops me and leans down to whisper into my ear, “If he touches you, I’ll kill him.”
I gasp and look up at him. I start to laugh and suck it in, slamming my mouth shut. He’s not joking. He’s completely serious. The look he’s giving me is lethal. I gulp and nod my head.
He releases me, and with one backward glance at him, I walk away.
Fuck, what have I gotten myself into?
Chapter 2
Daniel
Her skirt is too short. That’s what I’ve been thinking about. She’s not comfortable in it. She yanked at it all day long. I’ve gotten nothing done today because I’ve had to give Thomas, an employee, a list of things to do to keep his eyes off Sara. It’s obvious he has a crush on her, and it will be over my dead body before he acts on it.
So I’ve kept one eye on Sara and the other on Thomas... all fuckin’ day.
I’ve tried to figure out why she would wear a short skirt like that, and now I know. As she goes in to go on a date with another man, I have it all figured out. She’s trying to make me jealous. I guess we’re past trying because I’m way past jealous. I’m ready to kill a mother fucker just for looking at her too long.
I count to ten and then walk in the door behind her. I spot her across the dining room sitting across from some schmuck I’ve never seen before.
I tip the host a twenty to get seated close to Sara and her date. As I sit down, right in her line of sight, I can’t help but think about how this is all new to me. Usually when I stalk her, I make sure she doesn’t see me. Oh, she knows I’m around; I can tell by the way she fidgets and looks around for me. But this time, I’m leaving no room for error because I’m sitting right at the table next to them. For the first time, I want her to know exactly where I’m at, and I don’t want her second-guessing if I was being honest about killing the asshole drooling over her. I’ll kill him in an instant and not even think about it.
Since the moment I laid eyes on Sara, she’s been mine. What started as texting has moved to a whole other level. I’ve stalked her. That’s the only way to put it. I’ve literally kept track of her every move, even installing listening devices at her desk so I could hear her voice during the day. The only time I can’t see her is when s
I’m staring a hole in her, and she’s uncomfortable, but I can’t make myself care. Eventually the man that is sitting in front of her with his back to me turns to see what she’s staring at. I look at the man, or I should say boy. He looks as if he’s probably still in college. I glare at him, and his eyes get big and he turns back around. That’s right, dickhead, I’m right here. All I have to do is reach over and I could snap your skinny neck without even getting out of breath.
She’s trying to explain who I am, and I watch as she stutters over the words. She doesn’t know it yet, but I’m her man. She may have thought this little game of going out with someone else was okay—well, it’s not. There’s nothing okay with another man thinking he may have a chance with what’s mine.
They don’t even order dinner. They each order dessert and coffee, and the punk eats faster than I’ve ever seen anyone eat in my life. As soon as the waitress brings the ticket, the man throws some bills on the table. They get up to leave, and the guy reaches in like he’s going to hug her. My girl freezes up just as I growl. He must hear me because he stops moving with his arms midair, and then he drops them to his sides.
He turns and looks at me, and I raise up from my seat, standing to my full height. I know he’s not challenging me. Fuck it. I have some energy to wear off, and nothing would make me happier than putting a fist in that college boy face of his. I take a step toward him, and he bolts, running out the door. And even though I’m glad he’s gone, it pisses me off too. I could be a dangerous man for all he knows, and he’s left her here alone with me. He’s definitely not worthy of her.
Sara is glaring daggers at me. I reach in my pocket and toss a hundred dollar bill on the table before walking over to her. She doesn’t wait for me; she turns on her high heel and stalks out of the restaurant. I follow her at a slower pace, watching her as she storms away from me. Men and women alike all watch her. She’s beautiful and seems to draw attention wherever she goes. She walks the few blocks, picking up the pace the closer we get to the office. Her anger must fuel her because I have to move faster to keep up with her.
When we get to the parking lot at the office, I lean against the brick wall as she unlocks her car door. She raises her head and looks at me. Yep, she’s still mad. Even from here, I can tell she’s pissed. I can’t really blame her. I know I just ruined her night.
She stomps toward me, and I suck in a breath.
“Stop stalking me. Stop texting me. Just stop.”
I shake my head side to side. “I can’t.”
“You’re driving me crazy.”
I nod, because I understand where she’s coming from. She’s driving me crazy.
She throws her hands up in the air and turns to go. I should let her go and cool off, but I can’t keep it to myself any longer. “You’re mine, Sara Chambers.”
She turns so fast she wobbles on her high heels. She steadies herself and stares at me. She thinks I’m crazy. I can see it by the way she’s staring at me. “How? Because you stalk me and send me texts? I’m not yours, Mr. Tate. You’re going to have to try a little harder if you want me to be yours.”
I simply nod at her. She gives me another dirty look and walks back to her car. I stay where I’m at, my arms crossed over my chest.
She wants more, I’ll give her more. “Challenge accepted.”
Chapter 3
Sara
I barely walk in the door at the marketing firm the next morning when I hear a beep from my phone in my purse. I walk across the office, nodding at my coworkers as I go by. When I get to my desk in the corner, I drop my bag in my seat. Reaching into my purse, I pull out my phone and open the text message: "Nice skirt. Did you wear that for me?"
My head raises instantly, and I look all around. I didn’t even have to look at the caller ID to know who the text is from.
I get one similar to this every day, multiple times a day. When I don't spot the man I'm looking for, I look to the open second floor to see if I can see him looking at me. Goosebumps have already formed on my arms, which is a good indication that his eyes are on me. But I've learned that even though I may not see him, he definitely is watching me.
What started as just flirty banter has gone to a whole new level recently, and after last night, there’s no doubt he’s stepping up his game.
First I was uncomfortable with the attention my boss was giving me, but I can no longer fight it. Even though none of my coworkers have a clue, Mr. Tate has an obsession, and that obsession is me. I jerk as the phone in my hand dings again, and I look down and read the text message: "Answer me. Did you wear that skirt for me?"
The professional side of me knows that I should answer him by telling him no. And admonish him for his unprofessional question. But I can't. I’m still mad at him, and I thought about it the whole night. And it was after pondering on the whole situation that I discovered my problem. I’m on edge completely because I’m sexually frustrated.
I grimace and look at my phone. I type in one word, in all its honesty: "Yes." My eyes are glued to the phone as the little bubble show up, letting me know that he's about to respond. It's like I can't breathe, waiting to see what he has to say.
And when I see his response, I suck in a breath. "Good girl," it says. A smile forms on my face, and I look around the office again, trying to spot Mr. Tate. Even though I’m mad, I still seek his approval. I mean, those two words, good girl, have my heart racing and my panties getting wet. I know he's watching me. He's always watching. It may have made me nervous before, but now it is my complete undoing. No matter where I am or when it is, I can always feel his eyes on me. It's like an ongoing sexual foreplay that keeps my panties wet and my body primed for more.
He’s stalking me. I know he is, but he's yet to touch me besides that slight touch of my wrist last night.
But I want more. My body craves him. And I know that it is forbidden. He’s the last person I should be interested in. He’s off limits. He's my boss.
My phone dings again. "You're rubbing your thighs together. You need more, don't you, baby?"
A soft whimper escapes me, and I bite my lip to stop it. He has me completely on edge, but I think he knows it, and I think that's how he wants it. I wasn’t lying when I told him he was making me crazy.
"Sara, can I get you a coffee?" I know I look guilty as I shake my head at Christy. She's standing at her desk that is right next to mine. She's been nice to me since I've come to work here, and she's looking at me curiously. "Are you okay?" she asks.
I know my face is heated and my eyes are wide as I stare back at her. "Yes, I'm... I'm fine. No, I don't think I need any caffeine today. Thank you, though."
She stares at me a second longer. “Is everything okay? How did your date go?”
A part of me wants to spill the truth about Mr. Tate and put all my burdens on the table. I don’t have anyone to talk about what’s been happening, and I know it would be helpful to have another woman’s perspective. But I don’t dare. I can’t risk losing my job. I give her my best smile, hoping to hide the worry and lack of sleep that is probably evident on my face. “Yes, I’m perfect. But my date... well, I don’t think I’ll be seeing him again. He was nice, just not for me.”
She nods. “Don’t worry. You’ll find someone when you least expect it.” She lifts her cup at me and walks over to the kitchen area. I watch her to make sure that she doesn't look back at me before looking around the office again.
That's when I see Mr. Tate. He's come out of the shadows. He's standing on the second floor, his arms flexed as he holds on to the banister in front of him. He's leaning over, staring at me, and he doesn't seem to be worried at all about being caught watching me. I stare up at him, and his look intensifies. Even from here, I can see the desire in his eyes.
