Endless Obsession (2 page)

Making sure her eyes are still closed, mine move back to the plump mounds in front of me. Before I realize what I’m doing, my hand palms my dick. It’s hard as steel and aching like a bitch in my pants. I’m tempted to take it out and really give it a rub, but I nix the idea. I’m already taking a risk by being in here, but it’s something I can’t control. It’s not something I
want
to control. Being in her vicinity feels too good and right.

I sit there for a good hour, just watching her sleep, before I force my legs to stand. I don’t want to leave her. Every time I do it gets harder and harder. My need grows every day. I’m not under the illusion that it’ll be easy. I have no doubt she’ll put up a big fight once she finds out what all I’ve done and who I am. I know I’ve gone too far with my obsession and it’ll freak her out in the beginning, but in the end, she’ll be mine. I have every confidence she will be. Once she realizes that I’m the only man for her, that I’m the only man that can give her what she needs and wants— not just materialistically, but emotionally—she’ll see reason. It’s cliché as shit and it may make me sound like a pussy, but I’m the man that will love her the hardest and make it my mission in life to keep her happy.

With one last glance at Poppy’s face, I reluctantly leave her behind. Knowing I’ll see her tomorrow makes it easier, but not by much.

I pull Poppy’s door closed behind me, just the way it was, and slowly make my way back down her hallway. My chest hurts with every step I take away from her. It’s ridiculous to feel this way.

I love all the excitement of creeping around, watching her, obsessing over her, but the most important reason I haven’t openly pursued Poppy yet is because of the anger I know she’ll feel toward me once she finds out the lengths I have gone to to invade her privacy for my own selfish reasons. I’m not ready for her anger, her hate, or even worse, her fear. Fear is the very last thing Poppy should ever feel when it comes to me. I’d cut off my dick and shove it down my own throat before I ever hurt her. She is to be cherished and treated like gold.

I plan to have one hell of a fight on my hands, but it’ll be worth it, and no matter what it takes, I
will
have her where I want her.

As I walk by the living room, something catches my eye. There, sitting on an end table is a vase filled with sterling silver roses; Poppy’s favorite. My lips tilt up into a smirk when I see them. I walk over and run my fingers over the soft petals, thinking that Poppy’s skin would feel just as soft. I look around the already familiar living room and see everything meticulously placed. I like that she’s well-organized. I’m not a neat freak myself, but I do like order. It just makes life easier in general.

I move from the living room and back into the kitchen. It takes every bit of strength I have to unlock the door and step outside. If it were up to me, I’d be with her every day and night, 24/7, never letting her out of my sight. I could look at her forever and never get tired of her beauty.

It’s coming up on midnight and the neighborhood is dark and quiet. Luckily, the houses are spread out, so the chances of someone catching me breaking in through the fence are small. I also own several different cars. I frequently change the ones I use so Poppy, or anyone else in the neighborhood, doesn’t become suspicious.

I grab my keys from my pocket, unlock my door and climb inside. My hand automatically reaches for my phone, pulling up the live feed of Poppy sleeping. She’s in the same position I left her in.

Setting my phone down in its carrier, I start my car and pull away from the curb, already counting down the hours until I’ll see her again.

I swipe my keys off the counter and rush toward the door. I’m just pulling it closed when I realize I left the coffee pot on.

“Shit,” I mutter, running back inside. It’s a good thing I did too because just as I’m sprinting by the living room, I spy my purse lying on the back of the couch. I grab it, turn off the coffee pot, and lock up my house.

I pull my phone from my purse and check the time as I speed walk down the driveway to my car.

Damn.

I’m gonna be late. I hate being late. I’m normally the type that is always twenty minutes early for everything, especially work—
especially
this job. I’m not sure how I landed it, but I count my lucky stars every day that I did. The pay is great, the benefits are wonderful, and it’s where I met my best friend, Olivia (Liv for short) and her boyfriend, Tony. It all came at a time I needed it the most.

It was strange, really. Maverick Holdings called me in, which was already a big enough surprise since I had no experience. When I submitted my resume, I figured it was a waste of time, but thought the worst that could happen was they’d laugh and throw it in the trash. I never in a million years thought I would get a phone call back. Needless to say, when they said they wanted to interview me that very day, I jumped up and was getting ready before I even got off the phone with the lady. Imagine my surprise when I walked into the interview with Mr. Maverick himself, and not Mr. Patten, who I was told would be interviewing me. Mr. Maverick informed me there was some kind of mistake, that they were not hiring, but he could refer me to another company he knew that was. I left defeated and a little bit pissed that they wasted my time and got my hopes up. I was originally going to throw away the business card that was handed to me, but I crushed it in my hand without even looking at it and tossed it into my purse instead.

It wasn’t until later that night when I was looking for something in my purse that I came across the small crumpled card and remembered what Mr. Maverick said. I pulled the card from my purse and carried it over to the couch with me, curled my feet up, and smoothed the thick business card out on my thigh. It was silver with black lettering that read
Silver Technologies
. Beside the company name, there was an address and phone number. Just from the card itself, I could tell the place was a top-notch business.

I broke out my computer to research it, and sure enough, it was a multi-million-dollar corporation. Why in the world would I be referred to them? There was no way they would hire someone like me. Besides the fact that I had no experience in administration, I was sure the entire building was filled with well-groomed expensive suits and gorgeous blonde bombshells. While I may be pretty, I’m nowhere near bombshell material. I may be stereotyping, but it’s also typical for beautiful women to get picked over the duller ones. It’s human nature.

It took me a week to work up the courage to submit my resume. I don’t know why I was so nervous. It wasn’t like I would be there when they went through them and saw my lack of experience. I hadn’t even seen the place in person, and I was already intimidated by it. Hell, the chances of me getting an interview were almost nonexistent. But for some reason, Mr. Maverick sounded pretty confident.

The next morning, I woke to my phone ringing. I answered it groggily, but perked right up when the lady on the phone introduced herself and requested an interview for Silver Technologies. I quickly sat up in bed, but my tongue froze to the roof of my mouth for the first few seconds. She had to call my name twice before I remembered she was waiting on a response from me. She probably thought I was an idiot.

By eleven o’clock the next day, I was the new personal assistant to Mr. Knight, the founder and CEO of the company, with a weekly salary that was triple the amount of what I made from my family’s hardware store. I left in a daze, still confused as to how I landed such a high-end position. I wouldn’t even consider what happened as a real interview. I was just asked a few basic questions before I was informed I was hired. I waited for hours for a phone call, saying it was all a joke, but it never came.

In three weeks, I will be with Silver Technologies for a year.

I pull into my spot in the parking garage fifteen minutes past the time I was due to be here. In almost a year, this is my first time being late. Mr. Knight is a nice enough boss, but I’d prefer not to test his generosity regarding tardiness. Looks like I will be today, though.

In my cream colored high heels, I walk swiftly through security, flashing my ID to the two guards at the desk, even though they know me by name and face.

“Hey there, Miss Lexington. How are you this morning?” Jared, the older of the two, calls.

“Fine, just running a bit late. How’s Margret?” I stop for a moment at the desk and take a breather. I’m late, and I know I shouldn’t stop, but Jared’s wife recently had emergency surgery for a ruptured appendix. There’s no way I can walk by without finding out how she’s doing.

Although he smiles kindly at me, I still see the worry on his face. “She’s doing better. Getting around more and more every day.”

Jared and Margret were high school sweethearts and have been married going on thirty years. Their love story is sweet, something I wish to have one day. I can’t imagine how scared Jared was when he got the call at work, saying his wife was in the hospital and had to be rushed back for surgery. This is his second day back at work since she was released from the hospital.

I reach over and give his hand a squeeze, just as the phone on the desk rings. Nathan, the slightly younger guard, answers it. I don’t know much about Nathan. He’s generally quiet and seems pleasant. He’s only been with the company for a few months. I haven’t really gotten a chance to chat with him yet, except for a few pleasantries here and there as I walk in and out of the building. He looks to be in his mid-thirties. He has thick, dark brown hair and stunning blue eyes. From what I can see from his uniform, you can tell he’s stacked with muscles. He rarely smiles and has the ‘badass’ vibe going on. With his size and the serious way he carries himself, he makes a formidable security guard. No one in their right mind would go up against him.

His eyes land on me after listening to whoever’s on the phone.

“Yeah, she just walked in,” his deep voice rumbles.

My eyes go wide, and I shift nervously in my heels.

“I’ll let her know… Right… Thank you, sir.” He hangs up the phone, but keeps his eyes pinned on mine.

I already know before the words leave his mouth.

“That was Mr. Knight, wanting to know if you were in the building yet. He says he needs you in his office right now.”

“Shit,” I mumble and pick up my purse.

Nathan keeps his gorgeous baby blues on me, while Jared’s face carries a smirk. Mr. Knight makes me nervous, something that Jared’s picked up on from whenever his name’s been brought up. Being nervous around him really sucks, considering I’m his personal assistant. My job consists of me having to be near him eight hours a day, five days a week.

He doesn’t look like the typical businessman. He’s tall, well-built, extremely smart, and he has multiple tattoos covering his arms. I noticed this my first day here when he walked out of his office with the sleeves of his black shirt rolled up to just below his elbows. His dark brown hair is longish, and most of the time looks like he just ran his fingers through it. His green eyes are piercing and often pin me in place. I can’t help but get caught up in them. He also has an eyebrow ring, which totally conflicts with his business image. But he pulls the two contradicting looks off well. The man is pure sex on legs and shouldn’t be allowed out in public. It really is a sin against womankind for a man to look so damn good.

I wave good-bye to Jared and Nathan and jog as best as I can in heels over to the bank of elevators. Minutes later, I’m on the twelfth floor and rushing past Beth, the receptionist. I make it to my desk outside Mr. Knight’s office just as Liv walks over. The look on her face has me pausing as I place my purse in the bottom drawer of my desk.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“You got another one,” she says, a smile playing on her lips.

I roll my eyes, but can’t help the thrill that flutters through my stomach. I know exactly what she’s talking about, so I don’t bother asking her what she’s referring to.

“Where are they?”

“In the breakroom. And they are gorgeous, as always.”

Knowing I need to get to Mr. Knight’s office, but needing to see them, I follow Liv to the breakroom instead. I see them as soon as I enter. Sitting on the counter in a silver vase with a black ribbon wrapped around the neck are a dozen sterling silver roses. They’re my favorite.

I walk over, pull the small envelope from the stick thingy clipped to the vase, and slip out the card. Just like every other time, it’s white with purple letters that simply read,
Always yours, A.

I’ve been getting them for eight months now, one delivery a week, and I have no idea who they are from. The mysterious
A
has never shown himself. I’ve tried pulling the info out of the delivery guy, but he claims they are always ordered anonymously. I don’t know how to feel about this weekly surprise. On one hand, I’m flattered that someone noticed me enough to spend so much money on me every week. Not all floral shops carry sterling silver roses, and they don’t come cheap when they are found. On the other hand, it’s kind of freaky. I mean, how did he know these were my favorite? And why send them to me every week, but not introduce himself? He could be a serial killer for all I know. Or some old pervert. He could be anybody. Where did he see me to develop this fascination? Is it someone I know? Could it be someone I’ve talked to before? I’m curious to know, but I’m also scared to find out.

From beside me, Liv bends to smell the lavender petals as I put the card back into the envelope.

“They always smell so sweet.” She sighs and stands back up. “You know I’m jealous of you, right?”

I scoff at her and pick up the vase of flowers. With her trailing behind me, we walk back out to my desk.

“I don’t know why you’re jealous. You have Tony, and you know he adores you.”

I put the flowers down before turning to her.

“True, but he doesn’t buy me flowers every week. I only get them occasionally.”

She reaches out and fingers one of the petals with a look of envy. I reach out my own hand and run the pad of my finger along the thornless stem. Besides the beautiful color, they are my favorite because you don’t have to worry about being poked while handling them.

“Yeah, but at least you’d know it’s him if he does. I get flowers from some faceless person. It was strange but sweet in the beginning, and very flattering, but it’s getting frustrating not knowing who’s sending them, you know?” I lean a hip on my desk. “I mean, who does that? Obviously, there’s a reason why he hasn’t introduced himself yet. What if it’s some freaky weirdo that wants to do nasty and strange things to me?”

I’m being dead serious, but Liv laughs at me.

“I’m serious, Liv. This guy could kidnap me, take me to a rundown cabin in a forest somewhere, chop my body into tiny pieces, and cook me over his gas grill.”

“Girl, you need to lay off the mystery shows. That’s just gross!” She wrinkles her nose up in disgust, causing her blonde brows to rise into her equally blonde bangs. “I think it’s sweet and romantic,” she says wistfully. “Maybe he can’t show himself yet. Or maybe he’s waiting until…”

Liv is interrupted when the intercom on my desk buzzes, and a second later Mr. Knight’s voice comes over the speaker.

“Poppy!” he barks, making me wince. “Where in the hell are you? My office! Now!”

The line goes dead and my eyes snap to Liv’s.

“Damn it,” I say under my breath while I gather a pen and notepad.

I start in the direction of his office, when Liv stops me.

“Wait!” she says, rushing down the hallway. I tap my foot, waiting impatiently for her to return. Seconds later, she walks back to my desk with a cup of coffee in her hand. “Here, this might help. He hasn’t had one yet.”

I smile gratefully at her, and after Liv wishes me luck, I walk over to Mr. Knight’s door. Taking a deep breath, I tap lightly before opening it. I’m immediately met with the woodsy scent of the imposing man that’s sitting behind his desk.

He looks at me over the rim of his reading glasses before snatching them from his face and tossing them on the desk in front of him. His hair looks, as usual, rumpled. His green eyes regard me, and all I can do is stand there. I have no idea why this man makes me so nervous. I should be used to him by now, but I don’t think I ever will be. He intimidates me, and I don’t like to be intimidated.

“You’re late.” He states the obvious, never taking his eyes from me.

His words pull me from my dazed state, and I dash over to his desk.

“I’m sorry, sir. I’ve brought…”

“In almost a year, you’ve never been late, Poppy. Why this morning?”

At his question, I stop in my tracks to give him his coffee. I peek up at him through my lashes, with the cup in one hand and the notepad and pen in the other. He has his elbows on his desk, fingers interlaced together with both pointer fingers resting against his lips, watching me. I’m not sure how to answer his question. He sounded irritated on the intercom, but he doesn’t look it right now. No, right now he looks like he’s trying to find the answer on his own without me giving it.