Obsessive Compulsion

Table Of Contents

Disclaimer

Beginning

Middle

End

Book 1: All These Pieces of Me
Book 2: Obsessive Compulsion

Book 3: If You Still Want Me (2014)

Book 4: Pierce The Heart (2014)

This book is a work of fiction. While
references might be made to locations, products or events, the
names, characters, places, products and events described in the
book are a work of fiction and any resemblance to actual persons,
business establishments, events or locations is entirely
coincidental.

This book contains adult language and
sexually explicit sense that might be considered offensive to some
readers. This book is intended for mature adult audiences, of adult
age as defined by the laws of the country in which this book was
purchased.

BDSM remains one of the most strongly
misunderstood lifestyles. I encourage anyone with an open mind to
learn more about BDSM, but I urge strong caution about gaining your
knowledge solely from the internet. The best place to start might
be your local adult shop. None of the practices mentioned in this
book should be attempted or tried without proper understanding and
guidance. Some of the key principles in BDSM are
trust,
teaching, technique
(practice) and
time
(patience).

I’m trying to stop my eyes from staring at
her, but that’s like trying to tell my brain to stop worrying about
the fact that my apartment door might still be unlocked because I
only checked it twelve times this morning instead of sixteen times
like I do on Thursdays. Even after twenty-eight years of the same
shit, my rituals still find ways to argue with one another. Well, I
can only assume that I was checking the latch on my crib when I was
a baby, but I’m willing to bet money that I was.

I’ve never had my place broken into, but it
doesn’t matter. I’ve never had a fire, either, but that doesn’t
stop me from making sure all my appliances are unplugged before I
go to bed. And I mean
all
the damn appliances. You think
it’s no big deal until you’re trying to crawl behind a dryer at two
in the morning while you’re in
someone else’s
apartment.
Yeah. No second date from her.

Girls don’t seem to like a guy who’s a
little… obsessive about some things. Okay,
everything
. A
lot. A lot obsessive about everything.

Might as well just let it all out, Rider,
while you’re staring like a shopping mall puppy, waiting for
Charlie to turn your way. She’d see your sad little expression and
wagging tail in the window then take the more sane puppy next to
you home. The one who’s been licking his butt for an hour like a
normal dog should instead of obsessing about how unsanitary it
is.

Yes, my brain spends as much time obsessing
about these clever little analogies as it does making sure I
remember to brush my teeth. Four times. Twice on Tuesdays. Only
once if it’s raining.

Fuck.
I can’t even have a moment
alone to myself to admire Charlie’s fiery red hair from afar,
because my own mind won’t leave me the hell alone. Her hair
captivates me, though. Especially on days like this, when the sun
is brightly filtering down into the factory through the skylights
to reflect on her waves of copper as it falls down her back. She’s
neglected to put it up in her normal messy bun today and my eyes
have been glued to her shimmering tresses since she walked through
the door of Shoe Village.

I snort. That name. It’s been official for
over a month now, ever since Emma and Brandon christened it with a
bottle of champagne for that impromptu press event, but I still
think it’s amusing. The Dallas city council loved it, and the press
ate it up along with Emma’s adorable nature. They’ve touted it as
being a revival of the Dallas art’s district. Kyle and Brandon are
geniuses for planning the whole thing.

I guess I had a hand in it, too. I did
ensure that enough fines were levied against Forester and his
company so the sleezeball would consider Kyle’s offer to buy the
place as pretty damn fair. Forester isn’t the only one who can play
dirty in this town. I just make sure Brandon’s company comes out
looking squeaky clean on the other end. Which it is, but sometimes
you have to lower your level a bit to ensure dicks like Forester
don’t tear down dreams to build ugly ass high-rises.

That’s what Shoe Village is. It’s a dream.
Emma’s dream that’s become a dream for all of us, I think.

Especially her best friend Charlie. I will
never
forget the day Charlie stormed into our conference
room, accusing Brandon of breaking Emma’s heart and slapping him so
hard I think that man’s bell is still ringing. Of course, that
might be wedding bells he’s hearing, now.

I can’t believe Brandon ‘I’m too fugly for
women’ Peters is married, and he’s married to the cutest girl I’ve
ever met. Emma is like a little doll, with her big green eyes and
curlicue hair. She also has a heart bigger than her body. She saw
right past all of Brandon’s scars, just like he helped her to
understand that it was okay if she was a little broken inside.
Those two fit so perfectly.

I’m envious of it. I’m not jealous like Kyle
was, but I am envious. I want that, what they have. I’ve always
wanted it. Someone who can just look at me, accept me and ignore
the fact that I’m counting the number of freckles on their face or
twitching over their top button being undone.

Of course, that might be the easy part. It’s
not like being an OCD basket-case is your only hang-up, is it,
Rider? If you manage to
ever
find a girl to get past your
normal
, clinical issues, chances are slim to none that she’d
also be all for your other…
tendencies
. But, here you are -
staring at Charlie, who you know is so far out of your league she’s
not even on the same damn planet.

If ever there was a chance to say
women
are from Venus
, Charlie is it. Then again, I’m not exactly from
Mars. I’m probably from Pluto. Which isn’t even a planet anymore.
Bastards.

As if cued on set from the script of my
pathetic life, in walks the man of Mars himself, Kyle. Oh, lovely.
He brought her a café mocha, too. Prick.

I slump back into the chair we brought in
for our on-site office, pretending to read the blueprints in front
of me while Kyle saunters over to her, his dark hair spiked up in
that messy-gelled style girls seem to be into lately and his
piercing blue eyes never leaving her. She glances up and smiles
real big, her own blue eyes sparkling.

Taking off my reading glasses, I try not to
vomit.

Kyle’s been zeroed in on Charlie for the
past month, ever since she forgave him for almost ending Brandon
and Emma’s relationship over a jealousy-fueled misunderstanding. I
guess Charlie isn’t one to hold grudges. Saul and I are still
discussing the possibility of stringing Kyle to the Sentinel tree
by his balls, and we’ve been friends with the man for forever and a
damn day. Brandon forgave him too, though I guess that’s what best
friends do. I was just about to, but then the blue-eyed bastard
started making passes at my Charlie.

Dammit
. Charlie McLeod is not
my
girl, will never be my girl and is better off not having
to deal with my shit. Kyle, however, doesn’t deserve her, either.
I’ve know I have issues, but Kyle has issues on issues on issues
and a heart he only lends out.

Not that it’s any of my business.

Actually, fuck it. You know what? It is my
business, because I don’t want Charlie to end up as yet another one
of Kyle’s one-nighters. The guy can’t commit, and Charlie deserves
a man who will worship her every step, get on his knees, beg to see
her again and crawl through glass to do whatever it takes to make
her happy.

“You okay there, Rider?” Saul’s southern
drawl seeps into my ears and calms my blood as he sets a coffee and
six creamers on the desk.

I take the coffee, add all the cream,
stirring counter-clockwise twice between each, and add two sugars
while I try to steady my voice. “Peachy.”

Saul gives me that
look
, where his
bright blonde eyebrow is raised while his basketball-player-height
is stooped over so he can peer into my eyes. He reads me better
than most. “If you don’t like Masterson movin’ in, you gotta start
movin’ in yourself.”

I return his evaluative look with a look of
my own that tries to say
leave it alone
, but I know Saul
reads right through it. “Charlie is not a house for rent,” I retort
defensively. “She is Emma’s best friend, so she deserves respect.
Her relationship preferences are not my business.”

“Bullshit,” Saul calls my bluff, pulling up
a chair and swinging it around so he can sit on it backwards,
leaning his chest against the backrest. “She deserves respect
‘cause she’s a fiery woman with a mean left hook who knocked our
boss clear on his ass, an’ ‘cause she has a big ‘nough heart to
forgive Kyle an’ accept Brandon, the club an’ everything else about
our little family. She also deserves a man who’ll treat her right,
an’ you an’ I both know Kyle, not by his own damn fault,
won’t.”

I stare into my coffee, not at all ready for
the shit storm that is going to eventually rain down on all our
heads when Saul finds out the real reasons behind Kyle’s
faults
. Saul’s a great, loyal friend who will drop
everything to help you. He’s also not the brightest crayon in the
box. I’m not even part of the original posse, but I know that Kyle
can’t commit to a girl because his heart was stolen and stomped on
twelve years ago - by Saul’s little sister, Sarah.

“Hey!” Kyle is calling over to us from
across the factory where Charlie is painting a wooden sign that
will eventually go into the entryway. “You two old ladies done
whispering gossip? The framers will be here in ten minutes and
Brandon wants to have a meeting with them before they get
started.”

Framers. The past month has been spent
repairing the old leather shoe factory and getting it up to code.
Today, the actual building begins. Eventually, this shoe factory is
going to have thirty-two two-story townhouses
inside
it,
along with a treed street, a park, a playground, shops and
everything else you’d expect in a village. There’s even been talk
about letting in birds.

I put the lid back on my coffee and stand
from the desk, grabbing the blueprints and giving Saul one last
‘
please let it go’
look. He frowns with a sigh but nods,
following me through the door to the construction yard outside. I
didn’t look at Charlie as I left. I couldn’t. I can’t even glance
at her without my brain freezing me in place for at minimum five
minutes, and I have a job to do.

Maybe Saul is right and I should make a move
on Charlie, but that would require me to plan out an exact path so
I end on an even numbered step and don’t have to start back at the
beginning. It’s not that I don’t think she’s worth the effort,
because she is, but I just don’t know what would happen to my head
if she laughs while I backtrack to try again. And again. And
again.

More frightening, I don’t know what would
happen to my head if she stood there, patiently waiting for me to
reach her.

Kyle brought me a café mocha for the fourth
day in a row. After Emma let slip that it’s my favorite drink,
Kyle’s been giving me one every chance he gets. It’s not that I
don’t appreciate the gesture. I do, and there is no way my cravings
are going to allow me to turn down a frothy hot cup of chocolate
flavored caffeine. It wouldn’t bother me, either, if I thought it
was because he was still trying to make up with me after being a
total ignorant, conceited, arrogant ass in regards to Emma. I’m
over that, he’s been forgiven and he knows it.