Vegas shook his head to rid it of his lustful thoughts and forced the image of Driver, naked, out of his mind. His screen lit up and he typed in his username and password, and he forced himself to think about Dakota. Innocent, safe, handsome, Dakota. He remembered the feeling of his skin under his fingers, the shape of his pecs and the gentle curve of his cock.
His body stirred at the thought.
Last night was exactly what he’d needed to get himself back on track and his head out of the clouds. Somebody his own age who he had something in common with and who actually suggested splitting the bill when the check came. A gentleman, but also someone who knew just how to scratch Vegas’ itches and satisfy him without having to be told.
Patching himself into the system, Vegas shook his head once more and attempted to focus on the call that was coming in.
Show time, he told himself.
“Evening handsome, you’ve landed with Vegas, how you doing tonight?”
Vegas’ breath hitched instantly in his throat.
It was him.
He would recognize that voice anywhere.
Vegas’ ears were greeted with that same deep, throaty breathing that wormed its way into his ear and snaked itself all the way down to the pit of his stomach, leaving his entire core shaking in its wake.
Then came the laughter.
The caller laughed in the most inhuman way. It made Vegas tremble and brought tears prickling to the backs of his eyes. The laugh made his heart palpitate and drum out an insanely loud rhythm that shook his whole frame in his chair.
He was laughing at the effect that he was having on Vegas. Mocking him from God knows where, and taunting him with the power he held over him. He knew his threats were working and playing on a loop in Vegas’ head.
The caller had him right where he wanted him, and the scary thing was that he somehow knew it.
Vegas’ throat was dry and scratchy, like sand paper, and it felt like all the air had been sucked straight out of the room.
“I’m so glad I got to speak to you again.” The caller’s tone was menacing and hung in the air like a heavy fog, echoing against the inside of his skull. “I’ve been watching you.”
Vegas’ eyes searched the room, hoping someone would be looking his way so that he could signal for help since his voice didn’t seem to be working. But the room was full of bowed heads and other people going about their own business. He closed his eyes tightly, wishing the voice to be a dream or in his head. Anything except for real.
“And I know you’ve seen me too….” The man knew Vegas was aware of his stalking behavior.
Vegas shuddered again. He wasn’t imagining it at all. All his paranoia was real.
Not in my head.
Not in my head.
He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat and attempted to slow his pulse by taking a deep breath.
Come on, Vegas. Don’t let this fucker get one over on you.
He remembered the conversation he’d had with Dakota about how he wasn’t someone who allowed himself to be bullied by anyone. He was strong, and he wasn’t about to start playing the victim to some jackoff who could do nothing to him but make petty threats and speak in a spooky voice.
This ends now.