Stalking Emily Saving Emily

Surveillance Files

LEO

She was still trembling from the aftershocks when I carried her into the shower.

I set her on the marble bench, stripped off what was left of our clothes, and turned the water on hot. Steam filled the glass enclosure instantly. She didn’t fight me when I stepped in behind her, just let me pull her back against my chest while the spray beat down on both of us.

We just stood there. My arms around her waist. Her head tipped back against my shoulder. Water sluicing over the fresh bite mark I’d left on her neck and the scratches she’d left down my back.

I should have kept my mouth shut.

Instead, I said the one thing that could break whatever fragile thing we’d just started.

“I need to tell you something.”

Emily stiffened. “If it’s more rules, I swear to God…”

“It’s not rules.” I reached past her for the waterproof tablet I kept mounted on the shower wall. Useless until this exact moment. “It’s the truth. All of it.”

I opened the secure folder.

Three weeks of footage. Every camera I’d had installed in her apartment, on the rooftop, in the hallway outside her door. I didn’t cherry-pick. I started with the worst one.

Night three after Dex’s video went viral.

Emily in her shower, fully dressed because she’d cried so hard she couldn’t even undress. She was sitting on the tile floor letting the water pound her while she whispered, “I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine,” over and over, like a broken record. Her tears mixed with the spray, her shoulders shaking so hard it looked like she might come apart.

I watched her watch herself.

Her breathing changed. The soft after-s*x glow drained from her face until she looked like the girl I’d first seen on that ledge, ready to fall.

“You've been stalking me,” she said quietly.

“Yes,” I answered, and waited for whatever came next.

“You are the one who’s been tormenting me with empty calls and knocks at my door?”

“No, Emily. I promise that wasn’t me. And when I find who. I’ll make sure they suffer for it,”

She spun in my arms so fast the wet tile nearly took her feet out from under her. Her palm cracked across my cheek hard enough to snap my head to the side.

The sound echoed off the glass.

I tasted blood where my lip had split against my teeth. I didn’t wipe it away. My eyes stayed on her, and watched water streaming down her face, her eyes blazed with betrayal and something darker that looked a lot like desire.

“You sick f**k,” she whispered.

Then she kissed me.

Hard. She slammed her mouth on mine like she was trying to punish us both. I lifted her instantly with my hands under her ass, her legs wrapping around me. I pressed her back against the warm tile and slid back inside her in one smooth thrust.

She rode me like she was trying to erase the footage with her body. Her hips dragged a groan out of me every time she took me to the hilt. I kept one hand braced on the wall and the other tangled in her wet hair, tilting her head back so I could watch her face while I f****d her.

“Look at me,” I said against her mouth.

She did with glassy eyes and cheeks flushed from more than just the steam.

“Every night I told myself I’d delete the files in the morning. Every morning I watched you instead,” I confessed between thrusts.

“Shut up,” she gasped, but her nails dug into my shoulders like she wanted the words branded into her skin.

“I stopped caring about Rowan the second I saw you on that ledge. You weren’t bait anymore. You became mine.”

She came with a broken cry, clenching around me so tight I saw stars. I followed her over the edge, burying myself deep and spilling inside her again while the water washed away everything except the two of us and the ugly truth between us.

When I finally set her down, she looked up at me.

“I still don’t trust you,” she said.

“I know.”

“But I’ll stay. For now.”

My chest ached open at that small surrender.