Page 28 of Little Ballerina

She was so beautiful. Smooth, soft skin, large brown eyes, silky blonde hair, a perfectly toned body. He was literally drooling as he watched her. She’d pushed the covers half off, and her long legs were draped on top of the covers. She was wearing only an oversized sleep t-shirt and it had ridden up, so her panties were just visible.

Hiding the camera in her bedroom had been a stroke of genius. He wished he had been able to hide others but just getting into Naomi’s house had been a huge risk. She had a fabulous security system, but he’d been able to guess her code, it had definitely paid off that he knew her so well. Although he had been tempted to break in again, and again and again, he had resisted, he hadn’t wanted to tip his hand too soon.

Naomi had no reason to believe that he was the one who was stalking her. At least not yet. But it shouldn’t take her long to figure it out. In fact, if she was honest with herself, she probably already knew it was him.

While he waited for her to figure it out and come walking into his waiting arms, he was enjoying tormenting her. He was circling ever closer. Earlier today he had killed her neighbor. Not only was he moving physically closer to her, but he was moving closer emotionally too. She was friends with her young neighbor, he had seen them together at the gym several times, and Oscar regularly hung out with Naomi in the evenings when his girlfriend was busy with school.

Even thinking about Naomi spending time with a gorgeous young man had his blood boiling with jealousy. He didn’t like to think of her spending time withanyone. Particularly anyone male. She was his, she belonged to him, and he didn’t want to share her with anyone else. Not her half-sisters, not her friends, and definitely not Samuel Zeeke. He’d seen the way the man looked at Naomi. Sam liked her, wanted her. And that was unacceptable. Naomi wasn't available.

If Sam was going to get in the way, then it simply meant he would have to remove the other man from the equation.

Taking care of that wouldn’t be as easy as taking care of Oscar Yla had been. The young man hadn’t even noticed he was there. He’d already been hiding in wait in the house when Oscar arrived home. He’d watched him wander around for a while, then stand and stare out the window lost in thought. When the man had finally turned around, he’d known it was time.

A single gunshot had ended Oscar’s life.

He’d never even seen it coming.

One moment he’d been alive, the next he’d been dead.

It was as simple as that.

He wasn't sure yet how he’d take out his next target, but he had time to think about it. Time to figure out the perfect method to enact the next stage of his plan.

For now, he had plenty to keep him occupied.

Naomi’s gorgeous goddess body was still displayed on the screen in his bedroom. He zoomed in so the camera caught just her face. Even in sleep she looked worried. Which made his heart gladder than it should because he really did care about her. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t be doing all of this.

Slowly, he zoomed the camera back out. Letting it linger on her breasts, like everything else about her they were perfect. So round and full. He couldn’t help it. He reached out a hand and traced his fingers over them on the screen. It didn’t compare to touching the real thing, but it was better than nothing, and he found himself getting turned on.

He zoomed the camera out a little more and grew harder as more of her body came into view. She had tossed and turned restlessly a few more times and he could now see her flat stomach. She almost had him coming undone, and they weren’t even in the same room. When he actually had her for real it was going to be mind-blowing.

Choosing a camera angle that allowed him to see every inch of her drop-dead gorgeous body, from her pink painted toenails to the top of her beautiful blonde head, she was perfection.

It was time to settle back and enjoy the show.

January 29th

2:08 A.M.

Smoke.

Sam froze.

He was down in Naomi’s basement working out in her home gym because he couldn’t sleep. He’d already clocked his typical four to six hours a day when Rylla had been here earlier, and even if he wanted to sleep, which he didn’t, he wasn't sure he could. Naomi had locked herself in her bedroom after he broke the news to her about her neighbor's death and refused to come out for either him or Rylla.

After trying unsuccessfully to rouse a response of any sort from her, he’d finally left her alone. With the house locked up, the security system set and synced to his phone, he had decided to do what he always did when he felt out of his depth and work out. As he lifted weight after weight his mind could fade into oblivion, focusing only on the repetitive motion.

Only tonight it hadn’t worked so well. He kept seeing Naomi’s devastated brown eyes begging him to tell her that she’d heard him wrong, or a mistake had been made, and another person wasn't dead because some sick maniac wanted to hurt her. She had been trembling when he pulled her into his arms. The hatred he felt toward the man who was doing this to Naomi was so strong it had almost knocked him off his feet. He’d never felt such rage toward another human being before.

Since the weights weren’t helping to calm him, he’d moved on to the punching bag. Channeling his anger, he’d imagined the bag was the killer and gone at it with everything he had. That had worked, he’d felt his control come trickling back.

Now he smelled smoke. Well, he thought he did, but perhaps he was just imagining things. It was possible. Naomi telling him about the fire that killed two of her brothers had really gotten to him.

Pulling the boxing gloves off his hands, he dumped them on the floor and headed for the staircase. As he took the steps two at a time, he knew he hadn’t been wrong. The smell of smoke was getting stronger by the second. The best he could hope was that the fire wasn't too big.

As he opened the basement door his hope was shattered. The kitchen was ablaze. Flames quickly consuming more and more of the house.

How had the fire started?