Shattered Pieces (Undercover Elite Book 1)(2)
“You just don’t quit, do you? You went to my boss?”
“You have no idea how far I’ll go when it comes to you.”
I walk away, knowing he’ll follow me, and head to a secluded booth where I set my tray down and plop my feet up on the small coffee table.
He stalks his way over and eyes me with a sexy, hooded gaze that I’m sure worked on all the ladies he’s tried it on before.
“I’m baffled… I’m certain you could have any woman you want, yet, you want the one you can’t have.” I try something I haven’t used on him before, “I don’t like men.”
His rich, baritone laugh resonates through the air and lightens his normally stone cold features.
“Now that’s funny. Okay, I’ll play along. So you like women?”
“No, I don’t like anyone.”
That incites another laugh and I can’t help but wonder why I feel so flattered that I’m the one that brought a smile to the face of a man who is normally so intense in nature.
“You’ll work perfectly for what I have planned for just that reason, Johnnie.”
My name rolls off his tongue in a tangle of sensual syllables. This would be a hell of a lot easier if this guy didn’t ooze sex appeal.
“Okay, now I’ll play along. Don’t I have any choice in this plan you’re cooking up?”
“Absolutely not, I’m a man who not only has to be in control, but also enjoys that control immensely.”
“Well that can be interpreted in more than one way.”
“I exercise control in every area of my life and, yes, that most definitely includes the bedroom.”
I feel my face flush under his intense gaze and I’m glad for the interruption when the waitress arrives to take our order. He never takes his eyes off of me though, even when he is speaking to her.
“Please bring us a magnum.”
The waitress just stands there and ogles him as if she’s hypnotized. He seems to have that effect on every woman he encounters, every woman but me. I finally look up and speak to the waitress, “Tracy, snap out of it.” Her face turns red and she rushes away in embarrassment.
“I’d like to think you’re jealous,” he leans in to whisper in my ear.
“In your dreams. I don’t subject myself to womanizers.”
“You’re stereotyping me. I’m crushed.”
“I’m certain you’ll recover.”
I spend the rest of my night talking to the man who has been stalking me for the last six months and, surprisingly enough, I enjoy myself in his company.
Cash
She’s so fucking beautiful, even more so because she tries so hard not to be. She dresses like a tomboy, purposely trying to discourage male attention. The journal, that I was able to copy from her computer when I broke into her apartment earlier this evening, will definitely come in handy. It will enable me to study her most intimate thoughts, to delve into her psyche.
She’s absolutely perfect for what I have planned and I will make my move very soon. I worry about something happening to her. I know enough about her to know that she is her own worst enemy. It grieves me to know a woman like her, who has so much potential, is so self-loathing. Yes, the journals will tell me why. I have a very strong desire to wrap her up and take her home just so I can help her begin the healing process she so desperately needs.
I’d like to think I am her knight in shining armor, but a dark knight would probably be a more apt description. I’m not a good man; I’ve taken too many lives to give myself that title. I listen as she talks, as we banter back and forth, and I study her. Talking to her is easy and it brings an element of peace into my life. That’s something I haven’t had in a very long time.
I’ll do what I always do. I’ll watch over her and then follow her home to make sure she arrives safely. She is in my system, a drug I crave. More than once, visions of being buried deep within her have taken over my thoughts.
I’m a patient man and I can wait for the perfect opportunity to sweep her off her feet. My manner of doing so won’t be the norm, but all I care about is getting the results I desire. I want her and I will do whatever is necessary to have her completely under my control. I have all the resources I need to make it happen. Soon, very soon, I will have her right where I want her—in my home, in my arms, and in my bed.
Cash
I did exactly as I intended; I kept her safe for one more night. I make my way inside my mansion and into the quiet foyer. I guess, living this way, I should feel lonely but I’ve never really wanted to be around people. That changed when I met her.
I bound up the spiral staircase, walk down the hall, and enter the master bedroom so I can get through with my shower. I have one thing on the brain and that is getting into those journals of hers.