I stare at him in shock as he walks back into his house. This fucker knew I was following him! Man, that really takes the thrill out of it if he was letting me.

I cautiously step inside the house to see Deidre take a corner to the left. It is curious to see a home with glossed cement floors, but to be honest, it only adds to this whole modern-eco look. I walk down the hall and turn the corner, and my jaw falls open once again. The room is open to the full two stories, and two walls are made entirely of windows, floor to ceiling. A large semi-circle couch sits facing a gigantic flat-screen TV with a fireplace below that. A black six-foot grand piano sits behind the couch. I bet the reverb sounds amazing in this room. Then past the piano, like text centered on a page, a wall with passage on either side divides this room from the next. Against that wall is a table with bottles of whiskey and glasses. It was set up in some fancy array. This guy was definitely a doctor.

I walk over to the table, my steps echoing through the room. I pick up a bottle of scotch and look at the brand. He’s a doctor with nice taste too. I put the bottle down carefully.

“Do you drink?”

I jump and step away from the table, turning to face Deidre. He walks over to where I stand and picks up the bottle I was just holding. He grabs a glass and pours himself some. Then he turns back to me and raises an eyebrow. “Well? Do you drink?”

I lick my lips and shake my head, and surprisingly, I’m telling the truth. Yeah, I do drugs and sleep with a different person every night, but I don’t drink. I just don’t like the way alcohol tastes or makes me feel.

Deidre shrugs and leans back against the table, staring off into the open space of the room. I take a deep breath and look away, shifting awkwardly. I am usually a very talkative and forward person, but there’s something about this whole interaction that makes me feel out of place almost. It’s like even though I’m in his house and even though we’ve technically made conversation, I don’t know him. There’s absolutely nothing in the house that tells me about him. There are no decorations or personal items. There’s no lilt in his speech or mannerisms that I pick up on. It’s like standing in a furniture store talking to a support beam. Everything I know about him is what I heard from Das. I mean, he hasn’t even introduced himself, but to be fair, nor have I. Maybe I should.

“Uhm,” I start, “My name is A—”

“I really don’t care,” Deidre cuts me off, not even glancing to me. He just takes another sip of his whiskey as my eyes widen to stare at him in shock. Wow, that’s just cold. What the fuck do I do now?

“Well, I know your name, so I thought you should know mine,” I huff in annoyance. You don’t just cut people off while they’re talking, especially when they’re introducing themselves.

He turns his head toward me. “Everyone knows my name. You’re not special.”

I scoff and cross my arms. What an asshole. Hurr durr, yeah, what was I expecting? I followed an asshole home just to learn he’s an asshole. What do you know? People are people.

“What? I upset you? Well, news for you, I upset everyone,” he goes on monotonously.

“Have you tried not being an ass?” I counter to which he gives me a bored look like ‘really?’. I think that is what makes him more irritating. I can’t annoy him in return because he absolutely does not give a single fuck.

He turns away and walks to the window, staring out into the oversized garden. The sun filters through the leaves and glass in streams of gold and falls into his hair and through his eyes, only adding to his golden complexion which contrasts so greatly with his apparently black personality. He moves his glass in circles, causing the copper liquid inside to swish around. “I treat people like they deserve. People are stupid, so I will treat them as such,” he answers at last.

I shake my head and bite my tongue to keep from saying anything else as I look away from him. I’m the creepy stalker here, not him. I chose to come here, and now I can’t seem to remember why.

He downs the rest of his drink, tilting his head back and causing his hair to fall back. With an audible sigh, he walks back over and sets the empty glass on the counter. I shift into a more defensive stance as he turns to look at me. I give him a wary once-over as he starts to approach me.

He comes to stand right in front of me, and I have to tilt my head back to look up at him. He’s got to be at least six feet tall. His caramel eyes look down into mine, still showing no emotion while mine gave away my every desire. That just wasn’t fair. What also wasn’t fair is how incredibly sexy he is up close as well. I can’t seem to find a flaw on his perfect skin. He’s golden.

I let my arms fall from my chest to my side, and he seems to pick up immediately on my body language. He reaches forward to grab my exposed waist tenderly, leaning down to press his lips into mine. I bring my hands up and weave them through his soft hair. His warm lips encased mine as he let his hands glide down to let his fingertips brush the skin under the waist band of my jeans.

Okay, I’ll be honest, this definitely is a valid reason to stalk someone. It’s like the introduction to a porno.

He kisses me quickly on the lips one last time before moving his head lower to ravish my neck. I tighten my grip on his hair with a moan as he bites into me gently. He pulls our bodies together roughly, so I can feel the bulge in his pants.

No, I definitely don’t mind this at all.

† ⸸ †

I am kneeling on the bed when Deidre walks back in carrying a knife. He cuts the ropes from my arms, back, and legs, and they fall into pool around me on the linen sheets. I bring my arms back around in front of me, stretching them.

My head is still kind of fuzzy as I am still riding a high of happy chemicals. To say that was the best sex I’ve ever had would be an understatement. First of all, his size made my five inches look like the failed playboy from last night. Second, this man knew exactly what he was doing, and he was very good at it. He knew exactly where to touch me to make me turn into pudding. I have been nothing but a moaning and drooling mess for the past two hours. He milked me for all I had, and I let him. I’d let him do it again too.

I want him to do it again.