Stalk Me Now Read Online Frankie Love

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Billionaire, Romance Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 13
Estimated words: 11285 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 56(@200wpm)___ 45(@250wpm)___ 38(@300wpm)

Read Online Books/Novels:

Stalk Me Now

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Frankie Love

Book Information:

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.
Books by Author:

Frankie Love



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.