Obsessed (Hostile Takeover #1) (6 page)

At last Kent released my arm. “Sit.”

Infuriated, I arched an eyebrow at him. “Really? Is that how you talk to people? You bark orders at them as if they’re dogs?”

His lips thinned but the tilt of a half-smile remained. “My apologies.” He motioned to the bed. “
Please
sit.”

I decided I didn’t want to sit, despite his invitation. Mostly because to get to the bed I would have to walk past him. Not only were my legs a little shaky right now, but I also didn’t want to get close to him. So I crossed my arms over my chest and shook my head. “No thanks, I prefer standing.” I motioned for him to sit.

“Fine.” He sat. He stared down at the floor. And I wondered what the point of this so-called conversation was, if he was just going to sit in silence. But finally, he spoke, “What the hell am I doing here?”

That was a good question.

He stood, stared into my eyes for a few seconds and then walked away.

Good riddance.

I hoped this meant he’d stop with the bossy-big-brother and the tormenting womanizing jerk routines and just leave alone. I had enough to deal with, like, oh, adjusting to my mother’s new marriage, to have to contend with him being a total asshole. I wasn’t interested in talking about that time in April, when I’d almost let him take my virginity. It had been a huge mistake going as far as we had, but it would have been an even bigger one if we’d gone through with it. If I could be honest with myself, and set aside my wounded ego, I would accept that he’d done me a favor that day by refusing to go all the way. He’d known what I hadn’t at the time.

He’d known what an asshole he was.

There were no further fireworks that evening. I unloaded my car without any more interruptions. I made myself a sandwich for dinner and then I spent the rest of the night settling into my new room, trying to make it mine. By midnight I had most of my stuff unpacked, but when I looked around, I saw a place that belonged to someone else. A foreign, granted beautiful, room that would never be home.

Not sleepy, despite all the work I’d done, I barefooted out to the kitchen for a snack. I grabbed an apple and carried it outside.

Wow, it was gorgeous out here at this time of night. Very warm but not stifling hot.

Crickets chirped. Birds tittered. The pool’s water burbled. I sat on the edge of the pool and dangled my feet in the water. It was warm but refreshing. I crunched my apple for several minutes, enjoying the juicy sweet flavor of the apple and the gentle caress of the water on my ankles. Then I set the apple aside and plunged into the pool, enjoying the cool world below as I sank.

Just as my ass hit the pool’s bottom, a splash exploded in my ears and turned the crisp water to churning white. A pair of strong arms circled my body and suddenly my head was breaking the surface.

Someone had pulled me out of the pool.

That someone was Kent.

I wanted to be annoyed. He’d totally destroyed my peace. I hadn’t been drowning.

But he was raking my hair out of my face, asking, in a tight voice, “Are you all right? Did you fall in?”

Why did he have to do this? Be kind and sweet when I was just beginning to hate him?

Electricity arced through my body, pressed against his. He was holding me so tightly. A part of me wanted him to let go. I didn’t want to feel this way. Because I knew nothing good would come of it. But the other part, the stupid part, didn’t. The stupid part of me didn’t give a damn whether I would be hurt or not when he started acting like an asshole again. It just liked this feeling, of exhilaration and wild, untamed attraction.

“I’m fine,” I finally managed to sputter as I rested a hand on his sodden-cotton-clothed shoulder. He’d dove into the pool fully clothed. To save me. The crazy, adorable, jerk. “I…know how to swim.”

“Oh. Yes. Of course you do.” He extended his arms, pushing me away from his big, hard body and the heat rippling from it.

I shivered.

My nipples puckered into hard points.

I watched his eyes slide down my body, stop at roughly chest level, then dart back up to my face. “I apologize. I was…I thought…”

“It’s okay.”

A dribble of water coursed down the side of his face, following the sharp contour of his cheekbone. Treading water, I watched it, mesmerized for a moment before peeling my gaze away. It dropped lower, to his chest, and my body instantly heated again. His shirt was glued to his body. The thin white cotton had transformed into a translucent film that showed every crevasse cutting between his bulging muscles.

My gaze met his.

The air thinned.

But then he slipped under the water and jetted away from me. Water splashed on the tile as he thrust himself from the pool, at the end, far from me.

I clung to the side, tiny rivers of water dribbling down my face as I watched him lope into the house and vanish.

That guy was bad for me. Bad in every way but one—the obvious. There was no denying the chemistry that raged between us.

Now sizzling, I let go of the pool’s side and let my head slip under the water again. With any luck, the water would extinguish the burning between my legs.

But if it didn’t, there were other options.

Despite the fact that I had masturbated, I had a lot of dreams that night. Very hot, sexy dreams. Dreams in which Kent’s deft fingers worked my sex until I cried out in pleasure, a powerful orgasm throbbing through my whole body. I woke still feeling the pleasant little twitches between my legs. I’d orgasmed. While I slept. That was a first for me.

After showering and dressing, I padded into the kitchen to grab something to eat before heading out for the day. If I hadn’t known my way around the house, I could have easily followed the smell of the coffee to find the kitchen. It filled my nose the instant I left my bedroom.

Fortunately, that was all I found in the kitchen. It was void of inhabitants, both male and female. I was alone, thank god. After last night I wasn’t sure what to say to Kent. After being a total jerkwad earlier, he’d turned around later and acted out of complete selflessness, diving into the pool to save me when he thought I was drowning. Such a brave, heroic act didn’t go unnoticed. Neither did the heat pulsing between our bodies when he’d been holding me in the water. The moment had felt so intimate and exciting. My body had pulsed with need for hours afterward.

Of course, he didn’t need to know that.

Neither did Mom--who I hadn’t seen or heard from since yesterday. Things between us were definitely not the same since she’d gotten married. Despite her enthusiastic welcome yesterday, she was occupied with someone else now. I wasn’t number one in her life anymore. A pang of jealousy hit me, but I shoved it aside and busied myself with consuming enough caffeine to get me going for the day. I was going to need it. I had a big day planned. With Ransom. Once I’d downed a couple of cups of liquid energy, I grabbed a snack to-go, jumped in my car, and motored away from the house, and all the confusing emotions the people in it stirred in me.

In about an hour I saw Ransom for the first time in months.

It was a shock I hadn’t been prepared for.

It was one thing knowing my best friend was pregnant. It was another actually seeing the evidence of her pregnancy. She wasn’t sporting a tiny baby bump, as I’d expected. Her belly was
very
big. Immediately I knew she’d waited to tell me about her pregnancy. Months. Several.

My insides twisted.

We weren’t the same, either, Ransom and I. Once upon a time she would
never
have kept such a huge secret from me. Not a chance. She told me everything. I was the first to hear about her losing her virginity. I was the first to hear about her first love. I was the first to hear about her first heartbreak.

But I wasn’t the first to hear about her first pregnancy.

Her expression was somewhat tense as she let me inside her house.

“Wow, look at you!” I exclaimed as I stepped into her living room. Immediately I noticed her house looked different. Gone were the ratty, ugly couches she’d inherited from her grandma. They’d been replaced by a sleek new sectional. Her prehistoric CRT television was gone. A massive 50 inch plasma TV now hung on the wall, above the fireplace. Also gone: the disgusting brown carpet. Now hardwood floors gleamed. “And this place. You’ve done some renovating.”

“Yes, well…” Her face turned pink. “You know what they say about pregnant women nesting.”

“Sure.” I had no idea what they said about pregnant women nesting. But I had a feeling there was more behind the updates than her current state.

Something thumped behind me and instinctively I turned toward the sound.

There was John. Looking a tiny bit older and a lot more handsome. His face had matured, in a good way. He looked more like a man now, not a boy.

And he was about to be a father.

“Congratulations,” I said to him, offering a smile.

He beamed, stepping up to Ransom and sliding an arm around her expanded waist. “Thanks, Shayne. I really appreciate your being here for Ransom, helping her with the planning. The wedding’s just around the corner. She needs all the help she can get.”

“Absolutely,” I exclaimed, casting my gaze back and forth between them. “Do you think I could stay away? She’s my best friend. Getting married. Having her first baby. That’s huge!”

“I’m glad you see it that way,” he said. “Not everyone in your…not everyone would.”

“No worries,” I lied. “The past is firmly in the past. This is the future.” I waved a hand from John to Ransom and back. “Your future.”

“Well, I’m still grateful,” he said.

“So am I,” Ransom added.

“Enough of the small talk.” I rubbed my hands together in a show of enthusiasm.” Let’s go shopping. We have a lot to accomplish today. Dress shopping is number one.”

My preggers bestie ran her hand over her swollen belly. “Ugh. I don’t know how I’m going to find a wedding dress. I’m already as big as a whale.”

“You are not.” John cupped her chin and lifted it, placing a soft kiss on her lips. “You’re beautiful.”

She beamed. “Only you would say that.”

Ugh. This was super awkward. We needed to get out of there ASAP.

“Okay, lovebirds. That’s enough.” I grabbed Ransom’s wrist and pulled her away from her very attentive soon-to-be husband. “You’re going to have to live without each other for a few hours. But you’ll survive.”

“Love you,” Ransom called, glancing over her shoulder at John.

“Love you too,” John returned.

I tried to block it all out as I hurried out to my car and buckled myself in.

This was going to be a long fucking day.

I couldn’t wait for it to end.

Then again, I didn’t want to go home either.

Seven hours later I was beat. Physically, mentally, emotionally. I’d listened to my best friend crow about how wonderful my ex-boyfriend was. Nonstop. The entire seven hours we were together, while continuously bemoaning the fact that she was as huge as a whale.

She was not huge. She had a cute, perfectly round, perfectly huge baby bump. And she was just saying she was unhappy for my benefit. I could tell she didn’t really mean it.

All in all it was a terrible day. But I did the right thing; I helped my best friend find a wedding dress she didn’t hate and pick stuff for both her wedding registry and her baby registry. Because I knew I had no right to feel the way I did. None at all.

Feeling like a wrung rag, I was actually happy to return to the quiet of Kent’s house. As usual, I kicked off my shoes and carried them inside, along with my purse and the dress bag holding my marginally attractive bridesmaid’s dress. Ransom’s wedding was going to be a small and private affair, with just me and John’s best friend as maid of honor and best man. Afterward, they were planning an intimate reception at a local hotel for about one hundred of their closest friends and family members. After we finished dress shopping, Ransom took me to the venue and showed me the room they’d booked. It was lovely, with access to a private patio area, decorated beautifully with flowering shrubs and trees. As someone who didn’t want a huge wedding, I definitely could see having my own wedding reception there…

Someday…

Maybe…

It was hard to stomach the thought that if I hadn’t been so immature and stupid, it might have been me walking down the aisle with John, not Ransom.

Then again, maybe not.

With years having passed since our breakup, it was easy to forget about the problems in our relationship. Yes, there had been problems. John had been attentive, just as he was with Ransom. But he’d also been a little needy. That weakness showed itself in a lot of irritating and frustrating ways. And that was probably why it was so easy for me to walk away, even though I knew in my heart that he was a good guy. Perhaps now that he had matured, he wasn’t so clingy and insecure. Or maybe Ransom didn’t mind it. Me, I suspected I preferred men who were more secure, powerful, maybe even a little challenging.

Someone like Kent. He was all those things.

And also forbidden.

After dumping my stuff in my room, and changing into my bathing suit, sliding on a pair of shorts and a tank top over top, I ventured outside.

The air was still and humid and thick. Feeling sweat gather on my skin, I followed the path toward the shaded oasis, looking forward to some peace and quiet. I loved Ransom with all my heart. I loved her enough to swallow my disappointment and dive into helping her with her wedding and baby showers. I loved her enough that I made sure she didn’t know that I was secretly a little jealous of her. She was not only marrying a man that I knew, that I had once wanted to marry, but she had found someone who loved her. John did, he loved her. It was clear on his face. It was that love--not so much that I still had feelings for him--that made today hard for me. My dumpy mood wasn’t because John loved Ransom. It was because nobody loved me like that.

What a freaking pitty-party I was having.

I sat on the bench and closed my eyes, head cradled in my hands.

Would it ever happen for me? Would I find The One? Would I fall in love? Would I glow, my stomach swelling as my lover’s child grew inside me?

While we’d been shopping, Ransom had filled me in, like she always did, telling me about our classmates. Some of them had gone to jail. Some were coming home from war. Those things had been going on for years, since shortly after our graduation. But this time she also told me about many who were getting married or having children.

I wasn’t even close to doing either.

What was wrong with me? Didn’t I deserve those things too?

Oh God girl, you sound pathetic. Stop this. Now.

“Rough day?” a deep, husky male voice asked.

I felt the thick air shift as he sat beside me, but I didn’t lift my head. I didn’t want him to see me like this. “Just long.”

“Hmm huh.” After a silent beat, Kent asked, “Is there anything I can do?”

“No.” Still staring down at the ground, I shook my head. Then a crazy thought flashed through my head. I tried to shove it away but instead of vanishing, words shot out of my mouth before I could stop them. “You could tell me what’s wrong with me,” I blurted, my eyes clamped tight so tears could not spill from them.

“What’s wrong with you?” Tenderly, he lifted my chin with an index finger. With the other hand he cupped my cheek. “Shayne? Open your eyes.”

My eyelids clamped tight. A tear was going to come out if I relaxed the muscles, even a little. “I can’t.”

He leaned forward. I felt his breath, so gentle, so sweet. It fanned over my face. “Please.”

Had he just
asked
me to do something? Not told me?

I forced my lids to lift. My eyes burned. Tears welled, turning Kent’s beautiful face into a big blur. God, this was stupid. So stupid. Why couldn’t I stop it?

“Nothing is wrong with you, Shayne. Absolutely nothing.”

I snorted. “Says the guy who treats me like I’ve got the fucking plague most of the time.”

“I tried to explain…” A big fat, irritating tear dripped onto my cheek. Kent ran his thumb through it, smearing the wetness. “Are you crying because of me?”

“No.” I couldn’t look him in the eye. I was lying. It was because of him. And Ransom. And John.

“No?” he prodded.

“Okay, maybe…a little.”

“Shit.” He shoved his fingers through his wavy hair.

“Don’t worry. It isn’t all about you. I’m just being a baby. I’ll get over it.”

“You’re not a baby.” He gripped my chin hard. “Dammit, Shayne, would you quit talking about yourself like that?” He glared into my eyes. His jaw clenched. The air between us crackled. My heart rate rocketed to light speed. “I don’t want to hear you talk like that ever. You are the most fascinating woman I’ve meant.”

“Girl. Don’t you mean girl?” I shot back. “Because that’s what you said before. That I’m too innocent for you, too inexperienced.”

“You said those things not me.” He jerked his hand away from my chin, but his gaze continued to devour every inch of my face. “Don’t you remember? It was you.”

Shit, he was right, I had said those things. But he hadn’t disagreed.

Then again, why were we talking about this anyway? Hadn’t we decided it didn’t matter? He was off limits, not just because he was a total tool. He was my stepbrother now too. And older than me.

I opened my mouth and words tumbled out, words I hadn’t meant to speak, “If I were so fascinating, you wouldn’t want the company of other women--”

“I don’t.”

“But what about—“

“None of them matter to me. I was…” He stood, stepped away from me, crossed his arms over his chest. “I was trying to forget you.”

“Bullshit.” I jumped to my feet and got into his face. “That is just shit, Kent. God. Why do men even think they can get away with that pathetic excuse? Really? Fucking some other girl is going to make you forget?”

He laughed. The sound echoed through the quiet. It echoed in my body too. And his eyes sparkled.

How I adored those sparkles.

“God, you’re amazing,” he said. “I don’t know how anyone could fail to see that.”

“And I don’t know how anyone could think that such a lame excuse for fucking another woman would ever fly…with anyone.”

The sparkles brightened. “Touché. Though it’s the truth.”

“Whatever. I don’t buy it.” I dismissed his excuse with a wave of my hand. “I’ve never fucked a guy to try to forget someone else.”

“Have you fucked a guy before?” he asked, one brow lifted in question. “Or are you still a virgin?”

My face instantly flamed. “No, I…haven’t.”

His gaze crawled down then back up my body, making nerve endings sizzle. “Then how can you know whether it would work or not?” His husky, low voice dripped with sexual promise.

“Because I know,” I stated as Kent gradually moved closer. I didn’t like where this conversation was going. Nor did I like him getting this close. Then again, I did like it. I was weak. So freaking weak. The tang of his cologne filled my nose and I inhaled deeply, committing it to memory. “If I had feelings for a man, then no one else would make me forget. It wouldn’t work.”

This guy is off limits, Shayne! Off limits!

“Tell me, Shayne. Do you have feelings for anyone?” He was so near now his lips almost grazed mine and we shared breath, Kent inhaling mine and me inhaling his.

My mind grew foggy, my skin tingly. My spine rubbery.
Don’t say anything, Shayne. You don’t want to encourage this!
I clamped my lips closed but somehow one word popped out, “Maybe.”

He leaned a tiny bit closer. “Who?” he asked, lips brushing gently against mine in a teasing semi-kiss.

My body demanded I tell him everything he wanted to know, even though my mind screamed dire warnings. I closed the distance between our mouths, slipping my tongue between his parted lips. He tasted so delicious I could kiss him forever. He groaned, grabbed my shoulders, fingertips digging into my upper arms, and held me captive as his mouth ravaged mine.

Yes, oh yes. This was what I’d been waiting for. This kiss. From this man.

A throbbing need ignited between my legs. I whimpered. I moaned. I surrendered and pleaded as he kissed me into delicious oblivion.

“Mmmm,” he purred. Breaking the kiss, he said, as he lowered me onto the bench, “Since April I haven’t stopped thinking about you. I want to see you. I want to see all of you.” He grabbed my tank top in his fists and jerked, and a sharp riiiip echoed through the tense silence. Shocked, momentarily confused, I shrieked and threw my arms over my chest. The torn pieces of cotton knit fell aside and my skin prickled with goose bumps. Still covered by the thin fabric of my bikini, my nipples hardened to uber-sensitive points.

He commanded, “Move your arms,” and I obeyed. He stared at my barely-covered breasts with feral hunger, tongue running across his lower lip. “Your body is beautiful.” I watched, my breath in my throat, as he bent over my chest and placed his warm, wet mouth over one peak. Instantly, my back tensed, making my spine arch, pushing my breast up into his hungry mouth. He nipped, sending little blades of pleasure-pain piercing through my chest, and I grabbed his hair in both fists, pulling him down, forcing him to devour my tender flesh. In return, he caught my wrists in his hands and yanked them away, gathering them into a steely grip over my head.

I felt so vulnerable now, with my hands basically bound. I was under his control. Completely. And I was thrilled and scared, both. Air sawed in and out of my chest. My nerves fired, tiny explosions igniting blazes throughout my body. The ache between my legs amplified.

“Don’t move these hands. Do you understand?”

I nodded, and as a reward he lavished equal attention to my other nipple, sucking, nipping, flicking his tongue over it until I was writhing uncontrollably. “Enough of this,” he said at last, grasping the center band of my bathing suit top. It snapped easily, and my soft breasts fell out of the cups. Another blast of heat pulsed to my center. This time I couldn’t cover myself. I didn’t want to.

I wanted more. Moremoremore.

“Kent,” I cried, “Ohmygod.”

“Baby, do you know what your sweet little whimpers and cries do to me? Cry for me, Shayne. Your pretty voice makes me hard.”

“Please, Kent,” I murmured, gasping and writhing on the bench.

“Please what, Baby?”

“Touch me.”

“Where?” He pinched a bare nipple, and I shuddered with pleasure. “Here?”

“No.”

He licked a damp, burning path down the center of my stomach and my entire upper torso became covered in goose bumps. “Here?”

I shook my head. “No. Lower. Please.”

He traced a line above the waistband of my shorts and I quivered, stomach tightening. Throbbing heat bloomed in my center. “Here?”