Stalk Me Gently

Stalk Me Gently DADDY’S OBSESSION 1 SHANNA HANDEL Welcome Sign up for my Newsletter to be informed of my next release www.shannahandelromance.com Stalk Me Gently: Daddy’s Obsession 1 By Shanna Handel Copyright © Shanna Handel 2023 All Rights Reserved * * * Welcome to this white-hot daddy duet From the moment I see her I know… She’s mine Reece When I get the first text I know I'm in danger The man who's watching me calls himself my daddy Our first encounter leaves marks on my skin Scorching-hot memories in my mind I find myself needing more If I don't end this soon... I'll be falling for my stalker Daddy She's young and naive with no idea how this world works The kind of girl that needs a strong man I'll be her daddy... I'll show her pleasure in pain I plan to turn her world upside down Then set her free Instead I can't let go There's one solution for my obsession... Make her mine forever Contents Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Praise Me Sweetly Ella’s Story: Cash is King More Daddy Books by Shanna Also by Shanna Handel About the Author Chapter One Reece “Look, I said I was sorry.” The apology wraps around my mind like a fog, intrusive but with the weightlessness of air. My so-called best friend pauses, waiting for my response. Mattie’s pleas tug at my heartstrings, but how can I forgive her? I shake my head, forcing a tight smile on my face, hoping the grin will lighten my tone. “I know. I just need some time, okay?” “K.” She huffs through the phone and I can picture her pushing her thick fringe of dark bangs away from her face. With black and purple hair, a closet full of leather jackets, and ten tattoos, she really should have been the one to date a musician. “I mean…I told you. We were waiting for you.” She says it like it’s my fault. Like this whole thing is my fault for being late that night. Maybe it is. I want to tell her how much her betrayal hurts, how her disloyalty ripped me apart more than his even did. We were supposed to have one another’s backs, always. I can’t find the words, so I simply say, “I know.” Her voice goes up an octave as she repeats the same story to me for a third time, pleading her innocence in all this. “He kept plying me with drinks and then he came on to me and you know how he is. So damn charming and as handsome as the devil himself. If I could take it back, I would. You know I would.” There are tears in her voice and it makes me want to cry too. I twist the string around my wrist—a friendship bracelet she made me years ago. “I know.” “Please.” She can sense my hardened heart is cracking and she digs her fingers into the edge of what’s left of it, pulling it apart. “Don’t let this asshole come between us. We’re best friends. I don’t want to take on this city without you.” “I feel the same way,” I say. But I’m lying. I don’t feel the same. Not at all. Nothing feels the same anymore. There’s been a major shift. Something’s changed between us. Something’s been lost. And I don’t know if we can get it back. Her voice is tiny, that helpless little girl voice that gets me every time. “Are you still coming Friday?” I can’t say no. She made a mistake, but she’s my best friend. A few weeks ago I would have said I’d do anything for her. I can do this. Right? “I’ll be at your party. I promise.” “Oh my god, really? Do you promise? There’s no way I could enjoy finally having my first legal drink at O’Tooles without you.” Now her voice is light and bright and I picture her bouncing up and down on the toes of her Doc Marten boots. O’Tooles. Mattie is sweet but self-absorbed. She probably doesn’t even remember that’s where I first saw him play. “Of course. I’ll be there. See you then.” I hang up before she can say more. Or maybe I’m hanging up before the sob that’s choking in the back of my throat lets loose and tears stream down my face. I’ve cried enough. Haven’t I? I swallow back the anger, the hurt, and the tears. There’s a loud banging sound in the hallway that startles me. I hop down from my perch and tiptoe to the door. Opening it and peeking out reveals my neighbor struggling with a large stack of boxes. He’s dropped one on the ground. He gives me a friendly wave. “Sorry about that! Heavy one.” I give him a waggle of my fingers. “No problem. Need help?” “I got it, but thanks.” A dimple on his left cheek shows as he grins. I close the door and go back to my spot. There’s a ledge built into the window just wide enough for me to sit on, my back leaning against the frame, my legs stretched out in front of me. I’ve only been here a few weeks and I’m still getting used to the place. The only upside to my new shoebox of an apartment is the big window that overlooks the city. The most prestigious housing development in Manhattan, The West is across from me, its shiny metal and glass a stark contrast to our dilapidated building. I sit and I stare out the window. My reflection stares back at me. Pale skin. Brown hair. Brown eyes. Nothing special. Not like all those other girls. I think of him.