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My Shameful Secret
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My Shameful Secret
Marian Tee
My Shameful Secret by Marian Tee
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(Previously published as VOYEUR & STALKER under shared pen name Lolita Lane)
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Copyright 2019 by Streak Digital Publishing
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Contents
Blurb
ABOUT THE BOOK
Also by Marian Tee
My Shameful Secret: Voyeur
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
My Shameful Secret: Stalker
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Dear Reader
About the Author
Also by Marian Tee
Blurb
MY SHAMEFUL SECRET: VOYEUR
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Playboy. That’s what I think every time I watch him from the library, someone who can never be a part of his world. Every time I see him, it’s like he has a different woman in his arms, and it’s never platonic. I may be a virgin, but even I know how to read between the lines, and they’ve got fuck buddies written all over them.
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Introvert. It’s my first day as an intern, and I’m determined to stay in the shadows. I like it when nobody looks at me or talks to me. Life is so much better when I’m alone, but then I see him.
* * *
That man is my boss, and even worse is what those mocking green eyes of his are telling me:
He knows I hate him.
He knows he terrifies me.
But nothing is more horrific than the moment he bends down and whispers to my ear, It’s my turn to watch you.
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MY SHAMEFUL SECRET: STALKER
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Some people may think I’m stalking him, but I’m not. I just like…observing, and he happens to be my favorite subject.
I like to call him Mr. X. It’s safer that way, since he’s the hottest doctor in town, and I’d turn into a laughingstock in an instant if people find out I have the audacity of even crushing on him – someone wildly successful, heartbreakingly handsome, and so dangerously charming he can seduce you into doing anything.
I’ve seen it happen one too many times, which is why I know it’s better this way.
I stalk him when I need to de-stress. Fantasize about all sorts of things, which I then write in my journal.
He’s my imaginary boyfriend, and that’s all he was supposed to be until…
The day he suddenly meets my gaze---
Talks to me---
Touches me---
And everything changes.
ABOUT THE BOOK
An excerpt from Voyeur...
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Today might be the last time I’ll see him, I realize, since Mr. Beautiful never drops by during weekends.
The thought creates a curious little pang in my heart, and before following the librarian to the counter I find myself glancing outside the window one last time---
He’s pulling the chair out for his date, and I watch her say something as she comes to her feet. Whatever it is, it’s caused him to throw his head back and laugh. A moment later, his arm curls around her waist---
Oh!
Why do you keep torturing yourself, my inner bad girl asks tiredly. Why don’t you just look away?
Good question, so much so that it doesn’t even need an answer. What it requires is but a simple action. All I have to do is look away and I won’t be hurt.
But as always I do the opposite, and as I watch Mr. Beautiful pull his date closer to him I feel the pang in my heart become more excruciating---
Mr. Beautiful covers the woman’s mouth with his.
---until a wound opens in my heart.
That should have been you, my inner bad girl says bluntly, if only you had the guts to ask him out.
Most of the women around the couple have stopped and stared, and I’m betting they feel the same way I do.
Jealous.
Frustrated.
But more than anything else---
Aroused.
The wound in my heart only starts to close when Mr. Beautiful finally lifts his head.
Lucky girl, I think with a sigh.
I may disapprove of Mr. Beautiful’s womanizing ways but it doesn’t make me blind to the fact that he’s a good kisser. He has to be, considering how the women in his life don’t seem to care that he’s dividing his, err, attention among a hundred lovers.
Mr. Beautiful’s familiar-looking sports car then drives into view, and I sigh again, realizing that he’s about to leave.
This is it, then.
Our very last time to see each other, I think wistfully.
Goodbye, Mr. Beautiful.
I’m about to turn away when I see Mr. Beautiful raise his head---
And his eyes unerringly find mine.
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An excerpt from Stalker...
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Bypassing the elevator, Mr. X takes the stairs, and I follow him, despite feeling even more confused.
Mr. X glances at me, and my bemusement must have been visible on my face when he murmurs, “You’re wondering what this is all about.”
I bite my lip. How do I answer that?
As we take on another flight of stairs, Mr. X continues casually, “I’ve seen you stalking me.”
Right.
He’s seen me stalking---
Wait.
What?
I trip over my own feet, missing a step, and I let out a gasp as I feel myself falling back.
Long, hard fingers encircle my wrist, and then I’m being firmly pulled back.
“Careful.” Mr. X’s voice has suddenly become rough.
His touch burns my skin, and as soon as I regain my balance I try to yank my wrist away, but instead of letting go his grip tightens.
“D-Doctor?” I try to pull my hand away again, but he still doesn’t release me, and I no longer know what to do or say. I don’t even know how to feel. Terrified? Confused? Excited? I feel it all…and so, so much more.
“You heard what I said.”
The words make me jerk. “I…” Oh God. “I d-don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Liar.” But his silky tone makes the taunt feel like it means something else, and my face burns as an unnatural kind of heat sweeps over me.
Oh God.
Is the prospect of being found out actually turning me on?
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Also by Marian Tee
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Standalone Novels
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A contemporary and sizzling-hot retelling of the Beauty and the Beast, this story starts when Arabella sells herself to a mysterious French billionaire who has her whisked to his remote island.
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Included in this bundle: How Not to be Seduced by Billionaires, How Not to be Seduced by Rockstars, How Not to be Seduced by Dukes Part 1
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When I Hurt
When I Love
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Visit Marian Tee’s website for her other titles.
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My Shameful Secret: Voyeur
Prologue
Drat. It’s almost four already. Will I still make it? Will I still him? These questions make me grimace, but even so I still hurry up the steps, foregoing the long queue for the elevator in my haste. I know I’m being silly, but I can’t help it. I need to see him. My day just doesn’t feel complete if I don’t see him.
When I finally make it to the library I’m panting so hard I have to pause by the doorway – I place my hand against my chest as I try to catch my breath. Is my heart racing fast because I lack exercise…or something else?
You’re hopeless, Evan, my inner badass mocks. You need to get a life.
Mrs. Jenkins looks up from the counter and smiles curiously at me. “You okay?”
I quickly flash her a reassuring smile, explaining, “Just trying to catch my breath.” When she raises a brow, I add, “I took the stairs.”
“Ah.” She clucks her tongue. “You need to exercise more.”
“I know.” I give her a little wave before heading to my usual table at the furthest end of the room. This part of the library has been my private little nook for over half a year. Situated in one corner, my table-for-two faces the window and is surrounded by shelves, making it isolated from the rest of the library. I can spend hours here without anyone bothering me, and that’s exactly why I love it.
My usual routine starts with placing my tote bag on the chair next to me before taking out my stuff (books, notepad, pen, and highlighter) and arranging them neatly on the table.
Today, however, I skip all of these. I don’t even bother taking a seat or putting my bag down. Instead, I go straight to the window and peer---
Oh!
A silent sigh of relief escapes me as I catch a glimpse of him – a tall, dark, and handsome black-haired stranger who’s always impeccably dressed and never fails to display the most exquisite manners. I have no idea who he is, but since the French restaurant he frequents is still located within the university campus, I’ve wondered from time to time if it means he’s a graduate student or a professor. Either way, I have no plans to ever ask around about him, which is why I’ve taken to calling him---
Mr. Beautiful.
I promise I’m not being whimsical about this. I may have been watching him all this time from a second-floor window, but I know my secret nickname for him is fairly accurate. In the six months I’ve been watching him, I’ve been alternately amused and incredulous at how people react to him. Women literally stop dead and stare, while I’ve seen a good number of guys throw him malevolent-looking scowls every time he walks by.
>
You either love him or hate him, but you definitely can’t ignore Mr. Beautiful.