Silhouette: a Dark Stalker Romance by Carin Hart

Author:Carin Hart [Hart, Carin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-04-23T00:00:00+00:00

NINE

HIS ATTENTION

SIMONE

He’s gone as quickly as he came—both figuratively and literally.

As soon as the Watcher rubs his come into my skin, I expect him to return the favor. I got him off, right? The least he could do is go back to what he started, touching my pussy until I orgasmed all over his hand. If I’d lost my mind to give my masked stalker a handjob, I’ll stay crazy long enough to let him do the same to me.

But he doesn’t. Still wearing his soaked mask, he drops a kiss to my forehead. I feel it through the fabric, hands landing on his chest as I just about fall into him. He sucks in a breath, moans my name just once, and then he’s gone.

I almost follow him. I probably could’ve. He needed to grab the clothes he discarded, and unless the Watcher is also a flasher, he would’ve gotten dressed before leaving my house. I had plenty of time to hop out of the shower, grab a towel, and demand to know what the hell is going on.

Who is he?

What does he want from me?

And, most importantly, what happened to Will?

All pretty damn valid questions that it never occurred to me to ask when I had him naked, hot, and hard in the shower with me—and I don’t know what the hell that says about me, but it’s probably not anything good.

I almost follow him, but I don’t. I can’t. My legs are shaky, my body aching from the way he touched me so masterfully before pulling away, demanding I take hold of his dick instead. My boobs are impossibly heavy right now. I swear to God, my nipples are so hard, I could poke out an eye. Leaving the sanctuary of the steamy shower, knowing I’ll have to confront my actions—and his—when I do… I stay under the spray until the water goes cold, my lust is a little more manageable, and the Watcher would have had enough time to slip back out in the night.

I finish my shower alone. He washed my hair for me, scrubbing my back with the washcloth, but I still needed to wash my lower half. I take care of my legs and my feet, gasping when I touch my swollen clot with the washcloth. I’m so fucking horny it hurts, and I give myself a quick wash before rinsing off.

Not my stomach, though. If only for tonight, I like the idea of leaving his spunk right where he left it. The streaming water washed off some of it anyway. The rest can stay until I shower again tomorrow.

Maybe by then I’ll get my head out of my dark fantasies and realize just how insane it is that I was intimate with the man who admitted he’s my stalker.

My stalker—and the most obvious suspect in my husband’s murder.

That’s a splash of water in my face that’s even colder than the shower. I’m trembling a little by the time I turn the shower off, easing gently out of the tub before reaching for a towel.

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