Endless Obsession (18 page)

I chuckled at her catlike move.

Once I’m finished cleaning her, I take the cloth to the hamper by the bathroom door and go back to the bed. I should leave and let her rest, but the temptation to stay for a little while longer is too great.

I sit beside her again and simply watch her. Her breathing is deep and even, telling me she’s fallen asleep. Knowing that I’ve satisfied her enough, and that she trusts me enough to fall asleep with me still in her home has my chest growing tight. I lean down and place a soft kiss on her pouty lips, and she releases a tired sigh.

Gently, so as not to wake her, I lift her head and reach back to untie the scarf. I know I’m risking her waking up and seeing me, but the need to see her face unencumbered is something I can’t deny myself.

I pull the scarf from her eyes to see them still closed; her thick, dark lashes rest against her cheeks. She looks peaceful and innocent. It’s her purity that drew me to her in the first place.

I run my fingers down her cheek. She turns her head, like she’s looking for more of my touch. I watch her sleep for a few more moments before standing to get dressed. A hollowness forms in my belly, knowing I have to go. I don’t want to leave. I want to stay here with her, handcuff her to me, and never let her out of my sight.

Some people say that when you’re with the same person for a while, you look forward to the moments alone. That being in their company twenty-four seven drives them crazy. Or that absence makes the heart grow fonder, and you never know what you’ll miss until you’re not around them. That’s such a load of bullshit. There’s no fucking way I could ever want to be away from Poppy. She helps me breathe easier and makes my heart pump stronger. If it was up to me, I’d super glue her to my side so she could never get away from me. Hell, I see her all week at work, and then stalk her with the tracking device in her car and the cameras I have placed in each room of her house. I could watch her all day and it still wouldn’t be enough. After a year of this, I can’t even begin to imagine ever tiring of her, ever.

I place one last kiss to her lips and blow out the candles, bringing the room into total darkness. Poppy rolls to her side, tucking her hands beneath her cheeks. I grab the throw blanket at the end of her bed and slide it over her body to keep her from getting a chill.

With one last look at her, I turn and silently make my way out of her room.

One day soon, I won’t have to leave her or watch her from the sidelines. I know I brought this on myself. I’m the only one keeping us apart right now. I could very easily go back and wake her up and show her who I am, but to be honest, I have some doubts on how she’ll take the news of it being me. She’s not attached to me enough. Finding out her boss of almost a year has been stalking her, watching her from her window, has video cameras in her home, and knows almost all there is to know about her will freak her the fuck out. She’s taken what little information I’ve given her so far too well, but that doesn’t mean she’ll accept
everything
I’ve done.

I’ve waited this long. Waiting a few more days to ensure she’ll accept me won’t kill me, even if my body doesn’t agree.

I wake with a start, disoriented for a moment as I look around my darkened room. I look down and register that I’m naked, which isn’t a surprise, but normally I crawl beneath my comforter, not the throw I keep at the end of my bed. I smell blueberry muffins and glance over at my nightstand and see the candle from my living room sitting there. My hand brushes something cool and silky, and I pick up the satin scarf that’s next to my hip. Memories begin assaulting me.

Sterling.

In my house.

Touching me.

His head between my legs.

His fingers.

Running his cock against me.

Me melting for him.

Him coming in my mouth.

Coming against my pussy.

My body heats and an ache forms between my legs. The way his hands and mouth felt on me was unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. It was sensual and erotic, and being blindfolded heightened my other senses. His hands were gentle. The way my body responded to his was as if it had known his touch before and was in awe of knowing it again.

A noise from the front room jolts me from my musings. I jump from the bed, grabbing the throw and wrapping it around my chest as I race to the front door. I turn the knob, but it doesn’t open. Huffing out a breath and rolling my eyes, I unlock it, yank it open, and run down the walkway into the darkness, just as someone closes the door to a black car sitting at the curb.

I stop in my tracks and just watch. The person starts the car, but it doesn’t move. The lights from the dash give just enough light to see his silhouette. I want to move forward, desperately wanting to see the man that just touched me so intimately, but something keeps me rooted in place. Maybe it’s because he seems so adamant on holding off, or maybe it’s my own fear. I have no idea if he would even allow me see him, or if he’d take off before I made it to the car.

I stand there, just staring at his dark shape while he sits in the idling car. I know his head is turned my way, watching me, waiting to see if I’ll come to him. I take a deep breath, blow it out, and take one step back, then another. I feel bereavement as the distance between us grows. I want to know who this man is so much that my chest hurts, but I feel like I need time to come to grips with the entire situation. Tonight changed everything. I felt a deep connection to him that I’ve never felt with anyone before, not even Grant. It wasn’t what we did, it was the feeling I got from doing it with
him
.

Keeping my eyes glued to the man in the car, my feet slowly carry me backwards until I feel the door at my back. I don’t want to turn around and go back inside, but I know I need to. I can’t stand out here all night, and I don’t think he’ll leave until I go inside. I force myself to turn and walk over the threshold, closing and locking the door behind me. The ache in my chest now moves down to my belly.

I hear the car rev slightly, and I move to the window beside the door, just as he pulls away from the curb. I put my hand to the window and watch until I can’t see his taillights anymore.

“What about this one?” Liv asks, pulling me from my thoughts of Sterling and our night together. I’ve been a shitty friend today. My mind keeps wandering back to last night and how it felt to have his hands all over me.

I drop the piece of hair I was twirling around my finger and focus my attention back on my friend that’s sitting next to me at her dining room table.

“Let me see.”

I lean over and she shows me the dress she was looking at. The top part is gorgeous, but the bottom is huge and puffy.

I scrunch my nose. “Umm… only if you want to look like a marshmallow that’s been in the microwave.”

“Damn it!” Liv gripes and snatches the magazine back to her. “Who knew finding a dress would be this hard. I’m tempted to tell Tony that we’re getting married at the courthouse.”

We’ve been at it for hours, and have looked through five different magazines. Nothing has caught her eye yet. She’s so damn picky that I don’t think there’s even a dress out there that she’ll deem perfect. However, I don’t say anything. This is her big day, and I want it to be perfect for her. Until we find just what she’s looking for, we’ll keep searching.

“You know Tony won’t go for that.” I refresh both our wine glasses and slide hers closer to her. “Stop stressing. You’ve still got plenty of time to find the right dress.”

She grumbles as she picks up her glass and takes a healthy swallow.

We sit for another twenty minutes, flipping page after page of magazines, when the front door opens and Tony walks in. He’s Italian, and he’s one hot dude. He’s over six foot of pure lean muscle with jet black hair and chintz green eyes. He treats my friend like spun gold.

My heart melts a little when his eyes immediately go to her, and the love I see shining in them. I hope one day I have what they share.

He walks straight to her and bends to plant a kiss against her lips, bringing on a slight moan from her. I look back down at the magazine to give them a bit of privacy; however, the kiss ends right as it begins.

“Hey, Pop,” Tony says after he straightens back up and stands behind Liv’s chair.

“Hey, Tony. How have you been?”

“Good,” he says, and looks down at all the wedding stuff thrown all over the table.

“How’s the dress hunting going?” he asks Liv, rubbing his hand up and down her back.

She groans and props her elbows on the table with her face in her hands. “Absolutely terrible!” she wails into her palms. “I’m never going to find the dress I want!”

Tony’s eyes shoot to mine at Liv’s childlike outburst. I have to hold back my laughter. Liv would kill me if she knew I found amusement in this situation. She can be a little dramatic at times, something Tony knows very well if the mirth in his own eyes is any indication.

Still standing behind Liv’s chair, Tony pulls her head out of her hands and tips it back so he can see her face. He kisses her forehead from above and keeps his face close to hers when he says softly, “
Dolcezza
, stop stressing, yeah? I don’t care what you wear, as long as I get to slide my ring on your finger and call you mine forever.”

My insides turn all mushy at Tony’s words, and from the look on Liv’s face, so does hers. Her lips turn soft and tip up at the corners. There’s a dazed expression on her face that only a woman in love would have. Liv may be a hothead at times, but when it comes to Tony, she melts like butter in the hot sun, especially when he breaks out the Italian endearments. Hell, my own body reacts when he uses those endearments.

Still looking up at him with starstruck eyes, Liv suggests with a voice that’s gone slightly husky, “Can we just get married tomorrow at the courthouse?”

Tony smiles and dips in for another kiss before standing back up. “Nope. I’ve been imagining you in a white dress for far too long now for you to take that away from me.”

Now I do chuckle when Liv sticks out her bottom lip in a pout. Then Tony says something that changes her expression to horror.

“Want me to pick one out for you?”

“What?” she says in shock. “No! You can’t see the dress until I’m walking down the aisle.” She gets up from her chair and starts pushing him toward the living room. “You shouldn’t even be in here. Go. It’s bad luck to see the dress beforehand. Go! Shoo!”

Laughing, Tony steals another quick kiss and leaves the dining room. Liv turns back to me and rolls her eyes.

“I need a break before my brain leaks out of my ears. I’m gonna make some of my dip. Do you want some?”

“You know I do.”

I get up to follow her into the kitchen. She goes to the cabinet and starts pulling the makings for her to-die-for dip. It’s a simple recipe of cream cheese, no bean chili, and Velveeta cheese, but no one makes it like Liv does. Believe me, I’ve tried. I help her by pulling out a pan and setting it on the counter, along with the cutting board and cheese slicer.

“Guess who I saw the other day at Roxy’s?” Liv asks, dumping the cream cheese in the pan and smoothing it out.

Roxy’s is a small pub we sometimes go to after work. It’s where her and Tony met two years ago; the owner is a good friend of theirs. Liv introduced me to the quaint little place right after I started working at Silver Technologies. It’s the only bar type establishment I feel comfortable in. It’s not that I don’t like drinking or have anything against other’s drinking, I just don’t care for the whole party scene. I prefer to sit back and relax while I drink, and maybe shoot some pool on occasion without being harassed by guys offering to buy me drinks, or getting grabby with their hands.

“Who?” I ask, drying my hands after washing them.

When she doesn’t answer right away, I look over at her. She’s biting her lip, contemplating on whether she should tell me.

“Liv…”

“Grant,” she blurts, and then watches me closely for my reaction.

Although I still feel a little pinch of pain in my stomach at the mention of his name, I’m over what he did. It took some time to get past the betrayal, and I’ll never forgive him for it, but I think what hurt the most was
when
it happened. I was already in so much pain from losing my mom, and then to find out Grant was cheating on me, I thought I was dying because the pain hurt so much. It literally felt like I was suffocating. I had no friends at the time, so there was no one to turn to. I had a few friends I had managed to keep in contact with after my dad died, but we drifted apart when my mom got sick, and I had to quit school to work at the hardware store and care for her in my spare time. Grant was the only one I made sure I had time for. I thought at the time he was the love of my life.

I give Liv a reassuring smile. “It’s fine, Liv. You know I’m over what he did to me. It was a long time ago.”

Liv’s never officially met Grant, and has only seen him in person once. After we became friends and one too many drinks at her house one night, I told her about Grant and what he did. Her disgust for him was immediate. She grabbed my hand and we both stumbled to her desk in her spare room, where she sat me down in front of her computer and made me pull up his Facebook page. I was drunk enough to do it, but I wasn’t drunk enough to let her plaster cheater memes all over his timeline, something she was adamant on doing.

And then there was the time we were out shopping eight months ago. We had just walked out of a department store and there was Grant across the street, caging a girl against a car. On closer inspection, I realized it was the same girl he cheated on me with. Liv knew right away something was wrong. When she followed my line of sight and saw Grant, she recognized him immediately. I barely managed to hold her back from going to confront him. That was the first time I had seen him since I walked in on him screwing another woman. The pain in my chest hurt, don’t get me wrong, but I was surprised to find it didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would. I knew right then that we wouldn’t have lasted anyway.

Liv must sense I’m telling the truth because seconds later, the worry in her expression disappears and is replaced by relief.

“Anyway. Tony and I were talking to Patrick when he came in with that tramp; the same one he was with that day we went shopping. I talked Patrick into letting me make his drink.” She smiles deviously at me.

“Oh, God.” I drop the cheese slicer on the counter and turn to face her. “What did you do?”

“Oh, nothing,” she says, going back to smooshing the cream cheese in the pan. Her eyes slide to me when she says slyly, “Except I may have put some castor oil in his drink.”

My eyes go wide right before I bend over the counter with laughter. She joins me, and by the time we are done, our eyes are dripping with tears from laughing so hard.

“I freaking love you,” I tell her, wiping my eyes.

She shrugs, her smile still in place.

“You don’t fuck with my friends, even if we weren’t friends at the time.”

“Remind me to never piss you off,” I say, still chuckling. “Where in the world did you get castor oil?”

Liv grabs the open can of no bean chili and pours it on top of the cream cheese.

“Patrick has arthritis, and he swears rubbing it on his joints when it flares up helps relieve the pain. He had some underneath the bar.”