Stalker Next Door: A Dark Romance Short Story Read online

  Stalker Next Door

  A Dark Romance Short Story

  Follow me on twitter at:

  @amberfayeficti1

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  Copyright © 2021 Amber Faye

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Disclaimer: The following contains adult themes and possible triggers. Use discretion.

  Chapter One

  Karlee

  The screaming jolts me out of bed. It’s coming from the garage. My brother is yelling. The sound of another deep voice yells back. My mind races as it tries to wake up. What the hell is going on? It comes hard and fast.

  The voice belongs to Gage, my brother Damian’s best friend. He’s also our new neighbor — and an ex-convict just released two days ago.

  Pins and needles shoot up the small of my back. A thud shakes the walls and gets me out of bed. The night air is cooler than usual, and my legs prickle as they come out from under the blanket. I open the door and edge myself down the hall. Goosebumps race from my thighs down to my calves.

  What am I going to do? What the hell is going on?

  My mind races as I inch closer to the door. The yelling becomes clearer and furious. I want to back off, but I think of Damian. Yes, my brother is an asshole, but there’s no way he’d leave me hanging in a situation like this. But I’m 5’4 and 100 pounds soaking wet. I’d be a fly against the sinewy, hard body of our new neighbor. It’s my first time seeing him this close, and I can’t help but trace the outlines of his biceps with my eyes. He reminds me of an uncaged animal; mesmerizing and terrifying.

  The only thing I can hope for is that I’d distract him enough for Damian to get away. My body shivers as I think of Gage and the power in those broad, strong arms.

  I bite my lip and open the door, bracing myself for what’s coming. As I open it, I see my brother and Gage grappling each other. Beer bottles and tools are strewn across the floor. Blood is running down Gage’s face. The heavy panting, the stares and flexing muscles; it reminds me of two lions fighting over their pride. I can see the wildness in their eyes. Gage’s tight shirt rides up as he throws my brother into a car, and I’m both scared and excited. Damian slams against it hard and I let out a squeal.

  Gage’s eyes dart quickly to meet mine, then move down my body. I realize I’m wearing my usual sleepwear; a T-shirt so old it’s practically sheer and panties to beat the Texas heat. I debate throwing on something more decent, but the yelling starts up again. If he’s the lion, then he’s now found his new prey. I’m vulnerable as his eyes scan from my face, to my shirt, all the way to my panties and bare legs. I should have thrown something else on.

  The moment snaps back to reality when my brother rushes over and shakes my shoulders.

  “What the fuck, Karlee? What are you doing out here?”

  My eyes dart sideways. Gage is wiping sweat from his dark brows. His eyes are smoky, and the hint of stubble shines from the sweat gleaning on his face. Another tingle rushes through my body as I see him take the bottom of his shirt and wipe his face. His body is tempered, like steel right out of the furnace.

  My brother shakes me again. His hands dig into me. It hurts.

  “Where the hell are your clothes? Shit Karlee. We’re gonna have a talk," he says, and then he’s dragging me down the hall back to my room. The door slams, and Damian pushes me back down on the bed.

  “Karlee, don’t ever interrupt like that," he says, his eyes narrowing. “Never again. You don’t know him. It’s not safe for a woman to be around him — especially dressed like that". I brace myself for what I think is coming, but for some reason he decides to let this slide. Damian’s moods are unpredictable ever since our parents died a few years back. I still think he’s a prick, but I realize how much weight must be on his shoulders.

  “I’m sorry," I say. “I just heard the fighting. I didn’t think you’d want me to go to sleep thinking you’d been murdered. What were you two fighting about, anyway?"

  His face goes gravely serious. “It had to do with you, Karlee. I showed him an old photo of us. He made a comment...a comment about you. Damian turns away from me, clenching his fists. “He said he’d like to do something to you. I couldn’t let it stand."

  A cold wave rolls through me. I think of Gage and his hands touching me. A tiny warmth lingers in me. What was he thinking as I was standing there with barely anything on? Were they the same thoughts that poured into my head. I wonder what Gage said to set Damian off, but I don’t want to pry any further.

  Damian is about to say something when the sound of a police siren rings out.

  “Shit,” Damian says, and rushes out of the room.

  I follow, but this time I remember to get dressed. Still, I think about Gage’s hungry stare for a moment longer than I should.

  There are new voices behind the garage door, and the alternating red and blue flashes are enough to keep me from entering the situation. Damian would probably lash out at me for that. It would mean a slap, or maybe something worse.

  I put my ear to the door just in time to hear Sheriff Carlson’s voice through the door. He used to be the lead quarterback for my brother’s old high school team, but now he settled for being the resident pain in the ass for my brother and his crew. I can’t hear much. A deep laugh echoes in the garage.

  I linger a little while longer until the lights disappear and the murmurs calm down. I go back to my bedroom and lie down, thinking about the excitement of the night. As I’m laying there, holding myself on top of the covers, I sense something.

  It feels as if someone’s watching.

  I sit up again and look out the window.

  Gage is there, looking at me.

  His figure is clear in the moonlight, and I can see the definition on his arms as he locks eyes with me.

  I should be scared, but instead I feel a well of excitement. I’m a deer caught in headlights. I’m pinned in place. I’m flooding with color, and I push my body closer to the window. He doesn’t stop staring. I want to be closer to him. It scares me.

  What am I going to do?

  Chapter 2

  Gage

  Damian found me a place next door to him. I was released four days ago, and he’s the first face I see after leaving the pen. A look of guilt pops out as he meets me with his mustang and a firm handshake just outside the gates. We both know he owes me. Trouble is, I never forget a grudge.

  The next few days are simple, straightforward. He helps me unload my single box of things into the small bungalow next to his. The place is simple: dining room table, couch, and a single cot in a water-stained bedroom. Not much, but better than prison.

  I unpack quickly and lie on the bed. I stare up at the ceiling for hours. I think about the past few years, living in a cell with another person in a room half the size of this one. I think about the night it all went sour. I’m starting to feel the rage boil up in me when I catch a shadow moving.

  I sit up and look towards Damian’s house. The houses are separated by a tiny slit of dry grass. There’s not much privacy, but again, still better than prison. It works out in my favor; the silhouette of a long-legged figure appears from across my bedroom. I try to get a better look, but the lights are now off, and there’s nothing but darkness. I lie back down, but I can feel something stirring in my loins. Someone is over there, and I think I know who it is.

  Morning comes, and I spend the day getting settled. I get my pickup
from storage, head to the supermarket, and finally onto the storage locker where I pick up tokens of my previous life: a box of clothes, an old guitar, and my set of free weights. Those weights feel like a familiar friend, and I get reacquainted with them the moment I get back to the house.

  A knock on the front door interrupts the session several hours later. I open the door and I see Damian, beers in hand. He invites me over to his garage to shoot the shit. I accept the peace offering, although it’s going to take a lot more than beers to make up for the shit Damian put me through.

  We’re each on our fourth beer when the conversation swings to Damian’s recent hookups. He’s finishing up some bullshit story about some girl down at the roadhouse when I ask about the figure in the window.

  "You got a girl hiding in here, Damian?" I ask.

  "It's my sister, man. You've never seen her?" I shook my head.

  I knew I was going to have her as soon as her brother showed me her photo. Long, black hair, big doe eyes that looked like they’d never seen a bad thing in their young life.

  “Not too bad, huh?”

  Not too bad at all. She made my cock hard and put something heavy in my chest at the same time. Cute dimples in her face, a smile that was just begging for something to touch.

  “No,” I say, pushing the rush down.

  Damian closes the screen. “Too bad she’s gotta be the price of success. That old fart Russ has his eye on her, so I’m going to set something up reaaaal pretty for him. Means something real pretty for me.”

  He follows it with a wink and a click. Rage starts to boil up. I feel my fingers balling into fists. The next moment, Damian’s shirt is in my hand, and I let off a right cross into his cheek.

  Karlee comes through the door just as I throw her brother against the hood of his car. She stands there, meek like a mouse, her nipples hinting from out beneath her shirt, long slender legs frantically moving back and forth during the commotion, teasing me.

  She looks at me with those big eyes and I feel my cock immediately go hard. I fight the urge to run over, bend her over the workbench and take her right there.

  I feel a ravenous hunger for her. The stint in prison was a long one. Five years in a state pen was lucky, or so the judge told me. Passing my time in the gym, only dreaming of girls like Karlee, and not even two days out she walks into a room with her tanned legs and her breasts looking like they might just slip through that thin shirt. I think about propping her up on the hood and spreading open those tantalizing thighs, just to get a taste of what lies underneath that tiny sliver of underwear.

  Her brother gets up and ushers her out, and I feel my blood cool down as he leads her away. I hear her protest.

  “I just wanted to make sure you were alright,” she says. The door closes before I can hear anything else.

  I head to the fridge Damian has in the garage when I hear the siren. My neck tenses and I hold the bottle of beer in my hand tight. If the cops cause trouble, I’ll make sure I don’t go easy. There’s a knock on the garage, and I push the button to open it.

  Lo and behold, the person behind the automatic door is none other than Sheriff Carlson. The sheriff has been busy. His gut hangs over his beige pants. I want to take the bottle and smash it right over his head.

  After all, the sonofabitch is the reason I went to prison.

  Damian enters the garage, and there’s a moment of acknowledgment between the three of us. Carlson has his hand on the holster of his gun. I know I could still close the gap before he could get it out, but now’s not the time. My blood still feels hot from thinking of Karlee’s tight ass dancing as she left the garage. I wonder how she manages to keep safe with the likes of these two around.

  “Damian, why is it the moment I saw the street name for a disturbance, I knew it would be you?” The sheriff shakes his head and ts-tsks.

  His eyes meet mine. There’s a thickening of the air between us. His lips purse, and the condescending tone is replaced with cold, hard, statements.

  “I heard they let you out of jail. Too soon for my taste. I was hoping they’d keep you there a little longer.”

  I laugh out loud. Of course he wanted me to rot. I was moving his product halfway across Texas before getting caught by the staties.

  “They let me go early; for good behavior,” I say. I smirk

  “Well, just remember you’re on parole. One slip up and — back you go.”

  Yeah. I bet you do, you sonofabitch.

  The sheriff tips his hat to me in a mock salute. “Have a great night gentlemen. Oh, and Gage...keep up the good behavior.” He laughs as he gets back in his patrol car.

  The whole event kills the mood, and as Damian grabs my half-full beer I know it’s time to go. “I’ll see you around,” I say.

  I’m about to head to my door, but I’m still thinking about Karlee’s sweet little body. I feel my pants starting to tighten again, and I clench my teeth in frustration. I think about my window looking straight into hers; how it’s close enough to watch her move through her nightly routine.

  I start to think about the way she strutted in earlier; the innocence in her eyes, the concern. Then I remember Damian’s words. Karlee needs a protector; someone to look out for her and take her away from this situation.

  I know that person is me. My heart may be hardened over, but those big, wide eyes already have me trapped. I know I’d do anything to protect this girl, and that I’d do anything to be over in her room right now, kissing her feet, moving my way up her legs, to her thighs; to taste and explore every part of her.

  I start to feel delirious. I walk over to her bedroom window. I look in and see her laying on her bed. Her hands are wandering up and down her body, feeling. I saw her looking at me in the garage, and I can feel her excitement.

  I reach down and start touching myself, thinking of her soft skin, her dewy lips. Her head lifts up. She makes eye contact as I stand there. She can’t tell I’m stroking my dick, but I want her to know. She looks frightened, but I keep my stare. I move faster, but she still doesn’t notice. Maybe she’s too innocent.

  I want to keep it that way. I imagine her getting on her knees in that cute nighttime getup, slowly undoing my belt and putting my cock in her hand. I want her to feel it pulsing, throbbing, aching for it to be slipped right inside her. I want to shove my dick deep into her and bite her ear. I want to whisper in her ear as I fuck her hard that she won’t need her brother anymore; not with this big bad wolf around. I imagine her moaning in excitement, those young eyes looking at me, begging me for my hands on her tits, pleading with me to come all over them.

  She pushes herself closer to the window, giving me a sight of those perfect tits. They seem to call to me through the window, and I become enraged. I want to smash through and throw her legs over her head as I grab her neck and slam my thick cock into her pussy.

  I come fast and hard as she looks at me. I never break eye contact. I feel my breath start to slow. She’s the first to turn away.

  I go inside, my desires dampened for now. I don’t know how long I can hold out. The air is heavy and thick. There’s a storm brewing, and when it breaks, I know it’s going to get Karlee wet.

  Chapter 3

  Karlee

  It’s near the end of my shift at the roadhouse, and there’s only a few customers left. It’s a mix of whiskey-soaked sob stories and lonely older ranchers here to take a break from branding. The air conditioner keeps them cool from the humid summer weather.

  Unfortunately, there’s one more patron to deal with: Russ Carlson. He’s the big shot in town, as far as Hico Canyon had one. Buying up all the ranches around town, his large, plump frame matches the large amount of money he’s made. He’s usually a great tipper, but recently he’s become a little friendlier. Almost too friendly. I catch him trying to look down my peasant top when I bend down to grab something from below the bar, and when I bring him his drinks by the pool table, I find that he talks just a little bit too close.

  N
ormally I’d be able to brush it off, but I’m still feeling frazzled by that night the week before. Did I really see Gage staring at me through the window? Everything feels so hazy. I swear I could see him doing something outside — no. I couldn’t be sure. It would be too brazen. Way too taboo. Would someone —I can’t even think it —still, it’s sending warm waves through my body like a shot of bourbon every time I think about it. Sometimes, laying in bed at night, I’d feel my hand start to explore on its own, down between my legs, thinking about his strong arms holding me, but I’d come to my senses and go to sleep.

  Things seemed to get back to normal after that. Damian calmed down and started to treat me OK again. Gage came over to help fix Damian’s mustang (he did throw him into it) and he gave me a nod and asked how I am. We exchanged small-talk, but he’d turn and get back to banging out the dent. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little hurt by it.

  Yesterday he was even moving a couch from his pickup truck inside his house. I got a smile and a very intense gaze, and a piece of me kept expecting him to come over, his tall frame blocking the sun, and pull me into his house. But Gage didn’t make a move; only a stare and a smile. I fight off the disappointment. Was that hot, intense moment at the window last night exactly that? Just another fleeting moment in Gage’s life?

  At this moment, however, Russ Carlson’s hands become a nightmare. I’m coming from out behind the bar and bending over a table, when I catch a bad vibe from behind. I spin around just in time to feel Russ get real close. He’s close enough that his chino shirt brushes my arms, and I recoil back on the table.

  “Hey there, Karlee,” he says. His breath smells of expensive bourbon. I should know. I’ve been pouring it for him all night. “You know,” he says, leaning in again, “I could do a lot of things for you. I know your brother doesn’t treat you the way a girl deserves to be treated. I could treat you real right.”