Stalk Me Now Read online

  STALK ME NOW

  FRANKIE LOVE

  CONTENTS

  Copyright

  Stalk Me Now

  1. Olivia

  2. Gage

  3. Olivia

  4. Gage

  5. Olivia

  6. Gage

  7. Olivia

  8. Gage

  9. Olivia

  Epilogue

  Ready for more?

  About the Author

  COPYRIGHT

  Cover Design by Cormar Covers

  Copyright © and 2022 by Frankie Love

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  STALK ME NOW

  When offered a housesitting job at a Malibu mansion, I leap at the chance.

  A view of the ocean and a quiet place to paint means my last summer before finishing art school might be my best one yet.

  But things change the moment I arrive.

  Someone’s watching me.

  I should be scared.

  Instead, I’m turned on.

  Someone is lurking the shadows and it’s making me bold in ways I’ve never been before.

  Maybe it’s not a creative outlet I need… maybe it’s a sexual one.

  Dear Reader,

  This is short, steamy, and will get your summer started with a bang!

  Xo, Frankie

  1

  OLIVIA

  I am so freaking horny!

  I spent the last few months in a cramped apartment listening to my three roommates have boink-fests with their boyfriends and it has made me dizzy with desire. Considering I am way too picky (and not at all attracted to college boys – I prefer real men, thank you very much), I am single as ever and my poor pussy is pissed.

  Still, this housesitting gig is the respite I need. I can’t concentrate in that apartment with all the shenanigans, and I have got to finish some paintings if I want my senior portfolio ready when classes resume at my art college this fall.

  As I pull my car outside the malibu mansion where I will be crashing for a few months, I know that I made the right choice in coming out here today.

  When my mom’s old friend Leanne posted on her social media about needing someone to come and look after her home while she was on vacation, I swear, I responded so fast she must have thought that I was stalking her. There was no way that I was going to let anyone else get their hands on this place. No, it’s mine! And I’m going to revel in the opportunity to have some space away from my roommates and my real life, even if I know it won’t last forever.

  Honestly, it’s not that I don’t like my roommates. They’re pretty good, as roommates go, but sometimes it just gets a little too hard for me to wrap my head around sharing my space with other people. Especially not when I need to clear my head to get my painting done.

  It’s been nearly impossible to work on my stuff with Tara, Leila, and Paula around all the time – not to mention their boyfriends coming in and out like they own the place too. I’m glad that they’ve all fallen in love, but I just wish it was a slightly less loud, more roommate-respectful kind of love, you know? When I’m trying to work on my art in my bedroom and all I can hear is them freakishly fooling around next door, the creative juices are hardly flowing the way they used to.

  But now I’m going to be spending the summer looking after Leanne’s gorgeous mansion in Malibu, and I am going to make the very most of it. I step out of my old beat-up second-hand car, and grab my stuff from the back seat. Aside from my bag of clothes, there’s not much I’m bringing, just an easel and some paints, as well as a cloth for the floor to make sure that I don’t leave a single stain behind at Leanne’s gorgeous place. A free place to live with incredible views and a spectacular amount of space – there is no way I am ruining this opportunity.

  The summer air is bright and crisp, and it kind of feels as though the universe is telling me that I am doing something right here. Not that I have ever been much of a believer in the universe, but if I was, I would feel it right now. I suppose that makes me an anomaly in the art world, since all the kids I went to college with seemed to be caught up in the idea of the wind whispering things to them and the sound of the raindrops on windows tapping out Morse code as to what they should paint next, or something. I mean, if it works for them, great, but I’ve always had other things in mind.

  I fumble in my pocket for the key that Leanne gave me, and, as I unlock the heavy front gate, I can’t fight the feeling that someone is watching me right now.

  I glance around to try and figure out where that feeling’s coming from, but I can’t locate anything that might tip me off. Huh. Strange. Chalking it up to being in an unfamiliar place, I close the gate behind me and walk along the path to the house.

  As I push the door open, I take in the foyer, the massive ceilings, everything white – and everything so quiet. This place is so peaceful. I can’t remember the last time that I actually had this sort of stillness around me that didn’t involve me putting in noise-cancelling headphones and wedging the door to the bathroom shut. But I don’t want to focus on the negative. I want to zoom in on the fact I am here now, and that is all that matters.

  I head straight up to the office, which looks out over this absurdly beautiful garden outside, and throw open the windows. This is where I’m going to paint, I’ve decided. I can see across the garden, into the house next door and the one down the street from me, too. I don’t know how Leanne fills this space all by herself, compared to my cramped apartment, it feels like a palace.

  I wander up to the guest bedroom, wanting to see where I will be sleeping this summer. Leanne told me via text that it was the second master. I had no idea homes had two master suites, but I will take this massive king-size bed, walk-in closet, and double-head shower. I take a photo of the bathroom and text my mother.

  Me: Thanks again for telling Leanne I was trustworthy. This place is amazing!

  Mom: Great honey. Now you can focus on your painting. I believe in you.

  Smiling, I tuck the phone in the back pocket of my cutoff jean shorts, and make a last visit to the car to make sure that I’ve got everything and that it’s locked up, humming a little tune to myself as I go. I drop my bag of clothes as I stumble over my bare feet on the concrete drive, but quickly scoop it back up, laughing at my clumsiness. Nothing is going to sour my mood today.

  I can’t remember the last time that I felt this happy, felt this alive, felt as though everything was falling into place for me. I can’t wait to see the stuff I create while I’m here; I’ve had a few ideas of pieces I want to work on, but I haven’t had the mental –or physical – space to tease them out.

  I rummage through the drawers in the enormous, open-plan kitchen looking for a takeout menu – turns out that Leanne doesn’t keep any around. Probably because she has a live-in chef here most of the time, anyway. I pull out my phone and locate a local Vietnamese place that looks good to me. I’m looking forward to having the chance to cook in here, but right now, I want to veg out on the couch with some noodles and revel in the quiet around me.

  I glance out of the window once I’ve put in my order, wondering how I am going to see the delivery driver arrive from all the way out here – but instead of the food, I find myself focused on the man who has just emerged from a car at the bottom of the driveway next door. He glances over to my car in surprise, and grins to himself as he heads to the house. I wish I was outside, so we could meet, but I’m not going to run out there now like a weirdo. His salt-and-pepper hair and knowing eyes tell me he has plenty of experience in li
fe. He’s tall, broad shouldered, wearing work-out clothes and carrying a water bottle.

  He’s sexy. Really sexy, actually. The kind of sexy that gets under your skin and inside your head even when you know it’s not meant to. He’s got hair cropped short to show off his angular features, strong jaw, steady eyes. I sink my teeth into my bottom lip as I watch the neighbor heading up the driveway, pulling open his front door.

  And I know that this summer has just gotten a hell of a lot more interesting.

  2

  GAGE

  As I walk to my mail box, I can’t stop staring at the lime green bikini top that is next to the passenger door. Dropped or forgotten. I want to walk over and grab it, but it’s not my property.

  Still. That triangle top has me curious.

  Beyond that, nobody around here drives a beat-up car like that. Even the workers who come by to do gardens and mechanical shit don’t – they have big trucks. Anyone who’s turning up in a vehicle like that one clearly hasn’t spent a lot of time in neighborhoods like this. And I have to admit, there’s a part of me that’s intrigued to find out what else is going on here.

  Leanne is away for a while, though I’m not sure to where – I guess she’s got someone to keep an eye on the house for her while she’s out of town. But who? And the lime green bikini top must belong to the owner of whoever is staying there. That is a hell of an intriguing prospect to me right now.

  I pour myself a drink in the kitchen and keep my eyes pinned on the car outside, waiting for whoever owns it to come out again – and sure enough, it doesn’t take long till she shows her face.

  It’s a woman, quite a lot younger than me. She has blonde hair and eyes so blue that I can see them from all the way over here. She’s wearing a cropped tee and some high waisted tight and tiny jean shorts, hair pulled back into a messy ponytail at the top of her head, barefoot as she comes down the path, a pair of glasses tucked into the V of her shirt. My eyes linger on her big tits, bouncing as she walks.

  Hmm. Even more interesting. I take another sip of my drink, and thank God that I decided to come back from that business trip a day early. Nate, the co-owner of my company, tried to convince me to stick it out at the conference a little longer, but honestly, something had been pulling me home. And now I can see exactly what it was.

  I head back out to my car to find some papers – or at least, that’s what I’ll tell her if she’s still out there. Is she in that house all by herself? Big place to fill with just her presence, though maybe that’s what she likes about it. I watch as she notices the swimsuit top on the driveway next to her car. She bends over, grabs for it, and balls it up in her hand. My eyes linger on her curvy little ass when she bends down though, giving me idea son how I’d like to bend her across my bed.

  Damn. I need to cool down. But she is so damn sexy it’s impossible not to imagine her with me.

  A guy pulls up on a moped and she hands him a generous tip before she grabs the bag that he is carrying. Before she can vanish inside, I take a step forward. No way I’m going to miss out on introducing myself to my new neighbor.

  "Hey," I greet her, and she glances up at me. Close up, I can see some freckles on her face, and I have to admit, she’s even cuter than I thought. She smiles at me, lighting her whole face up at once.

  "Oh, hi!” she exclaims. "You must be my new neighbor..."

  "Yeah, I must be," I reply. "I’m Gage. And you are...?"

  "Olivia," she replies, and she extends her hand to me, balancing the stuff that she is carrying against her hip as she does so. "Nice to meet you. I’m looking after this house while Leanne’s out of town."

  "Whole place all to yourself, huh?” I remark, and she nods.

  "That’s the plan," she agrees. "I can’t wait. I live in the city with my roommates normally. I think I’m going to get addicted to having all this space to myself."

  "Well, if you ever need any company, let me know," I reply, and she rests her teeth on her bottom lip for a moment.

  "I’ll be sure to." She tucks a loose strand of her light hair back behind her ear. "Uh, and thanks for the welcome to the neighborhood. I know I probably stick out like a sore thumb here."

  "Well, got to admit, I haven’t seen a car like yours in a while," I reply, gesturing to the run-down vehicle beside us. She bursts out laughing.

  "I didn’t even think about that," she laughs. "Yeah, I guess I’m not exactly making myself easy to ignore, right?"

  "Guess you’re not," I reply, and I let my eyes linger on hers for just a moment too long. She pauses, parts her lips as though there is something else that she wants to say to me, but instead, she just nods again.

  "Good to meet you," she repeats herself, and I notice a little pink tinge to her cheeks as she hustles back up the driveway with her food in her hands. I watch her as she goes, and I can’t help but smile. See? There’s always a good reason to come back home.

  Especially when there’s someone as cute as her waiting for me right next door.

  3

  OLIVIA

  The cool air whips in from the ocean not far from here, and I smile as I set up my easel on the back porch. I planned to work from the study, but I can’t resist the saltwater-tinged air.

  The temperature is perfect out here, a perfect chance for me to do a little warm-up work before I get down to my real plans. I tip my head back and let it flow through me, the sweet comfort of knowing that I don’t have to worry about getting under anyone’s feet when I go to the bathroom later. Is there anything better than this? If there is, I haven’t found it yet, and I don’t want to, either.

  Anyway. I set up my paints on a stool beside my easel and look down over the flush of flowers in front of me. Leanne has the most gorgeous garden, and I feel like I have been blessed with a trip to the Palace of Versailles or something getting to paint here; there are a line of pink peonies, their buds parted, like lips trying to speak something into the wind.

  I push the robe that I’m wearing off my shoulders, and perch on the stool that I have set up to work from. I’m wearing shorts and a sports bra; after my morning workout I didn’t feel like changing. Besides, calling it a workout is a bit of a stretch considering I kept pausing the YouTube video while the instructor was telling me to do sit-ups to take bites of the donut and sips of the coffee I had delivered this morning.

  What can I say, I prefer carbs over aerobics.

  In my shorts and top, I am fully covered, enough to make sure that I don’t flash anything too intense to the neighbors. Not that I would exactly mind the one neighbor I met seeing a little more of me. Gage, that’s his name – and gosh, he’s even hotter close-up than I had been ready for. Last night I made up an entire fantasy that he had come outside to introduce himself as a way to flirt with me, and the little scenario helped me fall asleep. I like the idea that a sexy older man would find me attractive.

  I am sure it is all in my head, but there was something about the way that he looked at me, the way that he offered me a little company if I wanted it, that makes it hard to think straight.

  I glance to his house next door and feel a little flicker of excitement rush through me. So what if he can see me? I wouldn’t mind at all. If I’m going to be here all summer long then I want to make it a memorable one, that’s for sure.

  I slip the shorts down my body and kick them off so that I am in nothing but my sports bra and panties. Plausible deniability, I can just say that I was getting too warm and needed to cool off. Besides, it’s basically a swimsuit, right?

  I pick up my paintbrush and dip it into the red, mix it with a little white on my palette, and then lift it to the easel so I can start making some strokes.

  There is something about the sensuality of the cool air on my skin that thrills me. I am not sure what it is, but I am certain that I can feel eyes on me, feel myself being watched. It doesn’t bother me, though. In fact, there is something in it that I enjoy – the cool air on my skin is balanced by the heat of those eyes on me, wh
ether or not they are actually real.

  I become absorbed in the painting that is coming to life, bringing the peonies romantic in their soft, pastel-pink sweetness. They remind me of summer back where I grew up in Northern California, the heat of the sun beating down on me. I mix the pink till it’s perfect, until I know that nothing else would capture them better, and mark out soft shapes on the easel before me.

  It doesn’t take long before even the sports bra that I’m wearing starts to feel like more than I need right now. I glance around again, at least pretending that I care if someone is watching me, and then pull it off over my head. I want to lure the neighbor Gage out of his house … I want him to stalk me. Now. Though I am sure it’s just me obsessing about him.

  The feeling of the air against my nipples makes them harden at once. I bite my lip. I can’t believe that I am actually doing this. And I can’t believe just how much I am enjoying it, too.

  I continue to paint, let myself get caught up in it, but this time, I am certain that I can feel someone watching me. Certain that there is someone out there, someone beyond my field of vision, who can see me. Who is enjoying everything that they see.

  I never thought of myself as much of an exhibitionist, but maybe I’ve just been holding myself back from what I really enjoy. I run my fingers through my hair, marking a spot on my cheek with light pink paint, and take a step back from the easel. To anyone who might be looking at me right now, it would seem like a casual gesture, not one intended to mean anything to anyone. But I want to make sure that they can see me, that whoever is watching me right now can make out every inch of me.