Page 25 of My Masked Stalker
“Is that how you were listening in on me?” she finally asks, her voice shaky.
One corner of my mouth pulls up into a smirk. “That’s my smart girl,” I praise her. Her cheeks color beautifully at my words.
“I can’t believe you were listening to me pee,” she mutters grumpily, and I find myself laughing again.
“I had zero fucking interest in listening to you pee, sweetheart.” I shake my head. “Not my kink.”
By the time she opens her mouth again, I can see the cabin’s porch light in the distance.
“Killian?”
I grin at her tentative question. “Yes, Emily?”
“Tell me something about yourself?” Her order comes out like another question. “I only know your name and that you k—k?—”
“Kill people with a sniper rifle?” I finish, amused by the way her courage comes and goes.
“Y—yes.”
“Mm,” I muse. “I’m thirty-five. I was a Marine Scout Sniper. Did a few tours eating sand. Now I’m a hired gun. Much more profitable,” I finish with a grin.
I take the porch stairs two at a time, opening the door before she continues her interrogation.
“What about family?” she asks. “Got any siblings?”
I purse my lips. “I have two brothers, but we’re not related.”
“Were they also Marines?”
My smart little Red. Smart, funny, kind, generous, and so fucking hot.
“No.” I huff, thinking back to our time overseas. “E was Army. Damien Navy. We’re a very unlikely trifecta, that’s for fucking sure.”
Her brow furrows, and she doesn’t even look around the cabin, all her focus on me. As it should be.
“Do they know…”
“Do they know what, sweetheart?” I prompt with a smile I know could cut glass. “That I’m a merc? Or that I’m obsessed with you?” I use my foot to close the door behind us, making her startle as it bangs against the doorframe. “Yes.”
Now that we’re out of the cold, her blush is even more evident. She bites her lower lip again. She’s lucky both of my hands are busy holding her.
“Were they watching me, too?”
I carry her to the bathroom and place her on the sink counter with a kiss to her forehead that makes her squirm.
“Ethan has eyes on the hallway camera in your apartment building. For security reasons only.” I twist the tap of the jacuzzi and add bubbles. “Damien prefers to stay out of anything sordid unless he’s knuckle deep in a knife or bullet wound.”
She audibly winces, and I throw her a grin over my shoulder.
“Worried about me getting hurt, baby?” I ask in a purr.
“You’re limping,” she replies deadpan.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” I mutter before unbuttoning my pants and pushing them down. While Emily gasps, I ignore my half-hard dick—it’s impossible for me to be soft in her presence—and inspect the thigh wound. Now that my system’s calmed down in her presence, the throbbing pain is starting to make itself known. There’s some redness and a few drops of blood.
“If one stitch was the casualty of me finally sinking into that sweet cunt, I’ll take the win,” I say with a shrug, then sit on theedge of the tub to take off my boots while she flushes red like a traffic light.
“What happened?” she asks tentatively. When I glance up from my task, I see she’s staring at my wound, her eyes wide and unblinking. I curse myself silently—she won’t be used to seeing wounds like that. Of course she’s feeling unsettled.
