Little Stalker Read Online Free PDF

I’ve never...” his voice trails off when he meets my eyes.
    Why does my chest heat up every time he looks at me? Every time I look at him ?
    God, I want him, but I don’t want to be like him. And I don’t have to be like him if I don’t want to. I can sleep with girls, I’ve proved that. I start pacing the floor very slowly.
    “I mean, I’ve never...” he continues, not looking ready to leave at all, and it’s hard
    because the longer he stays, the harder it is to hang onto myself – the me that I was and the
    me I want to be. Need to be.
    “I mean, couldn’t you –” he continues.
    Pacing faster, I fist up my fingers to fight the need to touch him again. I want to put
    my arms around his small frame. I want to...to... Fuck. I want to fuck him so badly where he
    sits, right there on the floor.
    “Go,” I say so harshly he flinches back. “I said go, you fucking faggot!” My words
    are followed by an immediate pang in my gut at the look of hurt on his face. I need to stand
    by myself now because getting sucked off by him doesn’t make me a fully-fledged... – but if
    I’d have fucked him... Or am I only ...like that ... if I let him fuck me ? What the fuck is wrong with me?

    “You did this to me,” I snap, eyes tearing up with years of anger and frustration. “You
    made me do this. I was fine before. Get the hell out and stop stalking me! I don’t want you
    anywhere near me.”
    I take a few steps toward him and tower over him, casting a dark shadow on his face.
    His reflex is to hold his breath and cower, shielding his face as if waiting to be hit. When I do
    nothing but to stare down at him with a heavy frown, wondering if he gets beat up a lot, he
    peeks from between his fingers, rattling out a small breath. Then he scrambles to his feet, red
    sweater in hand, and stares at me for a second. The unmistakeable hurt in his eyes makes me
    swallow hard. When I take a step toward him, he spins around and runs out the door.
    With a heavy heart, I make my way to the bedroom, swipe Ray’s books off the bed
    and bury myself under my comforter. This day can’t end fast enough.

    ***

    The Nova Britannia House is the most popular frat house on campus. It only takes in a
    handful of recruits every year and is rarely open for outsiders. Both Ray and I applied, but we
    didn’t get in. Well, I didn’t get in, and Ray declined his invitation like a loyal friend – not that I asked him to. I’m not upset with them though; they get hundreds of applications each year.
    A lot has been said about the brotherhood, most of it probably a myth, but they do throw
    kick-ass parties. Although I’m in no partying mood tonight, I seriously need a drink.
    I spent the rest of the day re-playing the part where I made Grayson leave. I refuse to
    let myself to think about anything that happened before that, not because it was wrong, but
    because I don’t deserve to. The hurt on his face keeps flashing through my mind.
    I dip my head back and empty a glass of tequila down my burning throat.
    What I don’t want to think about, but evidently can’t not think about, is that I didn’t
    have to force my dick into erection around Grayson.
    With a numbing hand, I grab the tequila bottle and pour myself another glass,
    ignoring everyone and everything around me.
    Fuck. There’s no doubt any longer. I know what I am. It’s just so hard to say it and
    even harder to accept. Why me? What did I do to become this way? No one ever touched me
    wrong when I was growing up. I didn’t know about that kind of sexuality until I was eleven, when I heard someone call a boy a faggot. I got curious and looked it up. What I found both
    horrified me and excited me. Was that what did it? Did I become this way because of what I
    read?

    I think I’ve known since then what I was. But hell. I don’t want to be this way.
    “It’s time to stop now,” says Ray over my shoulder.
    I pointedly ignore him and down another shot of tequila, much to the