Page 8 of Stalked By the Convict

That I don’t believe he’s a bad guy.

“Yuri …” he whispers, his eyes wide. His throat bobs as he swallows nervously.

I’ve never seen him look vulnerable before. He’s always looking at the world with an impassive stare. Even a few minutes ago, when we were getting kicked out of the restaurant, he seemed unmoved, but now … He seems shaken by my offer. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yes,” I say, without hesitation. “You can live with me, Adam.”

His stare goes from vulnerable to something darker, more heated. The air in the vehicle thickens, making it feel like we’re crowding each other, even though neither of us have moved. I have to look away before I do something I’ll regret.

He’s my roommate now. My very big, ruggedly handsome, kind of dangerous roommate. Even if something is urging me to make a move, I can’t do that to him. We’re going to live together; I don’t want to make it awkward for either of us.

Shit. I doubt this is what my therapist meant when she said I should get a pet.

Chapter Four

Adam

I have iron-clad self-control.

Or so I thought.

Ten years ago, three men walked into my bar, one of the many businesses I owned. The three men were loud, obnoxious, and entitled. They thought they could get away with drugging a group of women that were minding their own business.

I could tell this was not their first time doing it, because of the ease they had as they went about slipping drugs into the women’s drinks. No one else in the bar seemed to be fazed by the sight of two women passing out while the third was carried out the door. No one but me.

I followed the men out to the parking lot. Three men against one was not the best odds but I’m a big guy. I took all three of them on with no issues, putting one in a coma while leaving the other two in a bloodied mess of broken limbs on the pavement.

I didn’t flinch when I was arrested. I didn’t plead, beg, or make a sound as everyone called me a monster for beating two men to death and putting one in a coma. I didn’t react when I was sentenced to fifteen years. The “victims” of my manslaughter were villains, but I’m the one that lived in infamy; it was a small price to pay for keeping those women safe, one that didn’t bother me at all. I’ve always had control over my emotions, every reaction from me has always been sober and calculated.

Yuri … Yuri blows that all to hell.

The moment I saw her, she crashed through my carefully lain walls and made herself the center of my universe. I live and breathe for her and it would be nothing for me to kill again on her behalf. I’d do it gladly.

“… And this is my office,” she says, breaking through my dark thoughts. “I’m a new reporter, so I don’t really have any sensitive information to hide. Feel free to use it whenever you want. The computer’s password is on the sticky note.”

I stare at her as she shows me around, fighting to suppress the need to push her against the door and take what I want. My desire for Yuri has been building. Every second I spend close to her like this makes it soar to greater heights.

I am barely holding it together.

“Alright, your room is down the hall. The bed in here’s a little smaller than mine because it’s older but I think you’ll fit.”

I follow her down the hallway, but I’m not really paying attention. I’m too entranced by the scent of her perfume, wafting from her long, dark hair. It makes me want to bury my nose in her neck while I bury my cock in her c—

“It’s not much but I hope it’s better than where you currently stay,” Yuri says, looking up at me so hopefully that I have to respond with a little nod. I don’t have the heart to tell her that I’ve actually been staying in a hotel I own. When she offered this spare room to me, I couldn’t say no. I’d give up everything if it meant spending time with Yuri in her space.

Anything to be with her.

To touch her, to take her, to erase the memories of whoever hurt her.

“Adam,” Yuri whispers.

I blink. I’ve backed her to the wall without realizing. Her hands have dropped to my chest. Her fingers spread over my muscles, as if feeling how solid they are. Heat blasts through me and I have to fight groaning.

Fuck, I want her.

“Yuri, I—” My iron-clad self-control, a thing of the past it seems. I make the choice to lean into it. “I need you so bad, baby.”

The need to drown myself in her deepens as her eyes flash with heat. Does she want me as well?

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