The Sweet Addiction Series Collection: Sweet Addiction, Sweet Possession & Sweet Obsession (33 page)

A loud, deafening crash sends them flying back open.
What the hell was that?
I shoot out of bed and dash down the stairs, skidding to a stop behind my worktop when I see a hooded figure standing outside my now shattered glass store front through the doorway. “Oh, shit.” Panic, sheer panic runs through me and I dash back upstairs, grab my phone off my nightstand, and begin dialing the only person I can think of.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up.” I dart into my bathroom and close and lock the door behind me.
Jesus Christ! Someone’s broken into my bakery! Who the fuck breaks into a bakery?
After three long rings, I hear his voice.

“Dylan?”

“Reese! Someone’s in my shop! I heard a loud crash and ran downstairs and—”

“Where are you? Are you safe?” His voice is filled with worry and I can tell he’s on the move.
Oh, God, please be at your place and not far from me.

“I’m in my bathroom. They broke the window and I saw someone.” I hear commotion, a lot of commotion through the phone as I crawl into my bathtub and close the shower curtain.
Like that’s going to do any good if they decide to break into the bathroom.
This is so horror movie cliché; I almost roll my eyes at myself.
“Please, I need you,” I cry, dropping my head between my knees and letting myself sob.

“Stay in there. Don’t come out no matter what you hear. GODDAMN IT. SHIT.” Echoes of footsteps ring through the phone and he’s out of breath, but his curse words keep flying. “I’m on my way. Call the police.”

“NO. Please don’t make me hang up.” I’m crying, shaking with fear and my words are broken and strained. I hear the sound of a car starting.

“Fuck. Move the fuck out of the way!” Car horns and another string of cuss words come through the phone as I clutch it tightly. “Love, you have to call the police. I’m almost there. I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise. Just hang up and call them and then call me back, okay?”

“Okay, okay. Please hurry.”

“I am.”

I quickly hang up and dial 911, rapidly telling them the situation and giving them my location. They tell me the police are on their way and to stay where I am. That’s not going to be a problem. I have zero intention of moving from this spot until I hear Reese on the other side of the door, even though I haven’t heard a noise coming from below me since the sound of the window breaking. I hang up and dial him again.

“I’m here. Don’t open the door until I get up there, okay?”

“Okay, but stay on the phone with me.” I hear his heavy breathing and the sound of glass crunching and cracking.
God, please don’t let that person still be here
. If I hear Reese getting into a struggle with someone, there’s no way in hell I’m staying in this bathroom. I don’t care what the consequences are. I will claw the fucker’s eyes out if he puts his hands on Reese. I hear footsteps outside the door and hold my breath.

“Dylan?”

I drop my phone and crawl out of the tub, scrambling for the lock and swinging the door open. I don’t even register his appearance before I jump into his arms and cling to him. “Oh, my God, I was so scared.” I’m holding onto him like I haven’t seen him in years, my body completely glued to his. “Is he still here?”

His arms wrap me up and he breathes into my hair, his chest heaving against mine. “Dylan.” I moan softly at the sound of my name. “It’s okay; I’ve got you. I didn’t see anyone, but your front window is completely smashed to shit.” He carries me away from the bathroom and into my bedroom area.

I’m shaking against his body and tighten my grip. “Jesus Christ. Why would someone break into my bakery? Do you think they wanted treats?” I hear a small muffled laugh escape his lips, which are pressed into my hair. My tears are streaming down my face as he places me on my feet in front of my dresser. I look him over and take in his appearance. Hair a right mess, no doubt from the rough treatment of his hands as he drove over here, clenched jaw, and prominent crease in his brow. His green eyes are burning into mine, and even though they’re filled with worry, they still carry the same intensity as always.

“Here, you need to put on pants before the police get here. They’re going to want to ask you questions.” He starts rifling through my drawers and I see him taking out several pairs of pants, tops, and panties.

“Umm, do I need to put on layers?” I wipe underneath my eyes and finally stop my tears. Now that Reese is here, I’m no longer scared, and the only emotion running through me right now is elated joy from the sheer sight of him.

“No, but you’re not staying here tonight, so you need to pack some clothes. I’m taking you home with me.” He glances over at me as he closes my drawers.

“Okay,” I reply, picking up a pair of jeans and sliding them up my legs.

“Really? You’re not going to try and tell me you could just stay at Juls’ house, or how you’re not breaking the ‘no sleepover’ rule again? You’re just going to say okay?” He looks utterly shocked and I almost laugh.
Jesus, am I that defiant?

“Yes, I’m not always so argumentative.” The sound of police sirens flow up the stairs and I quickly grab a bra and put it on, keeping his T-shirt on in the process.

He notices it and smiles a bit as he places my things in a nearby duffle bag. “Do you need anything else?”

I take a quick look around the room. “Umm, I guess just my bathroom stuff.” I scurry in there and grab my toothbrush, hairbrush, face wash, moisturizer, phone off the shower floor, and conditioner because I’m more than happy to use his shampoo and body wash. Spinning, I see him standing in the doorway. He’s studying me, eyes narrowed in on the collection in my hands. “What? I’m a girl and I can’t take another shower at your place without conditioner. We can’t all have gorgeous, no-product-necessary hair like you.” His lips curl up as I drop the goodies into my duffle and follow him down the stairs.

After talking to the police and giving them my very vague description of the hooded figure standing outside my shop, they ask me if I know of anyone who might possibly want to hurt my business or me personally. My eyes quickly flick to Reese who clenches his jaw before giving them his ex-receptionist name and information. He tells them about the package I received and claims she became unstable after he stopped seeing her. I had assumed the figure I saw standing outside was a man because of the dark hoodie covering their face, but I guess it could have just as easily been a woman. I’m assured my insurance will cover the damage, which luckily is only to one of my windows. No damage was done to the inside of the shop, which I am extremely grateful for. The police found a brick that was used to break the glass, which had slid underneath my consultation table, and are going to dust it for prints. I will only have to remain closed for one day for the window to get repaired, so that isn’t too bad. It could have been a lot worse. Way worse.

As we drive in silence to his building, the night I just endured is the last thing on my mind. Right now, with my duffle bag packed full of clothes sitting behind me in the back seat, the
only
thing on my mind is how I’ll be having another sleepover with Reese. And I can’t help but tense in my seat at the anticipation of it.

He’s quiet, too quiet as he walks into his condo and places my bag on the floor next to the couch. He hasn’t said two words to me since we left the bakery and it’s making my skin crawl. I plop down onto the couch and kick my shoes off, bringing my feet underneath my body as I hear him banging around in the kitchen.

“Here.” He hands me a bottled water and I take it, seeing him walk around the couch and sit on the far end, way the hell away from me. He begins flipping through the channels and stops on some basketball game that I couldn’t care less about.
What the fuck is this?
He comes to my rescue, and I know damn well I heard him call me love, which means he can’t hate me, asks me, no, tells me I’m coming to spend the night with him, and now he’s barely acknowledging that I’m even here.
I turn my head and stare at him and his perfect profile as it remains impassive but interested in the game he’s watching. He’s in running shorts and a navy blue T-shirt that has some emblem on the front that I can’t make out. Several long minutes go by as his eyes remain on the television, not once flicking toward me.
Jesus, is this how it’s going to be all night?
Fine then. If I’m sleeping over, I’m at least going to get comfortable.
I stand up and quickly shimmy out of my jeans, tossing them on top of my duffle and reach up and slip my T-shirt off. Turning around so I know he can see me, I drop it on the couch and remove my bra. I make quick eye contact with him as I slip my bra down my arms, his eyes lingering briefly, really fucking briefly on my chest before flicking back toward the game. I grunt and grab his T-shirt and slip it back on before I snatch the remote out of his hands and turn the television off.

“What the fuck?”

“What the fuck is right. What’s wrong with you? You’re acting weird.”

He reaches forward and plucks the remote out of my hand, turning the game back on. “How am I supposed to be acting?” His eyes go back to the game and I no longer want to be here. Picking up my duffle, I quickly put my pants back on and throw my bra inside as I slip on my shoes and turn toward the door. “Where the hell are you going?”

“Like you give a shit. Thanks for making sure I didn’t get murdered.” I’m almost out the door when his arms grab my waist and pull me back inside, locking the door behind us.

“You’re not going anywhere.” I’m picked up, carried in his usual caveman style manner and taken back over toward the couch. My duffle is dropped by the edge and I’m dropped on the cushion.

“You don’t want me here, obviously, so why should I stay?” I yell up into his stare. His hands come around me, bracing himself on the cushion behind me and bringing his face inches from mine.

“What the fuck makes you think I don’t want you here? I always want you here.”

“You haven’t called or texted me since Friday afternoon, I get topless in front of you and you barely react, and you’re not looking at me the way
you
look at me. You don’t even want me anymore. You just want your stupid game.” Tears fill my eyes and I’m not sure if it’s from the night I’ve endured or the Reese style rejection that’s knocking the wind out of me. His hand drops and grabs mine, forcing it against the massive bulge in his pants that I hadn’t noticed.
Oh, wow.

His face inches closer. “I
always
want you.” And then it happens. His mouth, his hands, his everything is on me in seconds, ripping my remaining clothes off as I frantically try and keep up with the removal of his.

“Tell me
you
still want me,” he grunts as he flips me onto my hands and knees and positions himself behind me. Before I can answer the obvious response, he rams into me and I cry out at the force.

“REESE.” I grip the leather with my fingers, scratching into it with my nails as he pounds hard, then harder, into me.

“Answer me, Dylan,” he grunts and I yell out between cries.

“Yes. Yes, I’ll always want you.” He’s fucking me harder than he ever has and I know it’s because I challenged him and he’s proving himself to me. That or he’s making damn sure I don’t question it again. Either way, I’m letting him handle it. His hands grip my hips, pulling me back to meet him, and if I wasn’t so turned on, so hot for him all the time, I might not be able to handle his power. I’m moaning, crying out with each thrust and he’s right there with me. “Oh, God. Harder.”

“Shit. You want harder?” His thighs crash against mine and my elbows give out. “This hard enough for you, love?”

“Yes!” I scream, needing him to give me this right now. I push back against him and feel his one hand grip my shoulder while the other digs into my hip the way I like.

He groans loudly, his sounds filling the condo. “You drive me fucking crazy. Fuck, Dylan.”

“Touch me.” His hand wraps around my stomach and drops between my legs. I whimper as his fingers rub my clit while his other hand grips harder on my shoulder. He’s so forceful that he’s knocking the air out of my lungs. “I’m gonna come.” I manage to get out through a faint breath.

“Not yet. Wait for me.”

I reach down to remove his fingers but he tightens against me, moving them in his perfect rhythm. “I can’t. Please.”