by J. L. Beck
Regretting You
The Obsession Duet
Cruel Obsession
Deadly Obsession
The Rossi Crime Family
Convict Me
Protect Me
Keep Me
Guard Me
Tame Me
Remember Me
***
EROTIC STANDALONES
Their Captive
Runaway Bride
His Gift
Preview of Convict Me
Chapter One
Hero
I tap the pencil on the notepad so furiously, it’s about to give way and break in half. Where is this stupid tutor girl? I glance down at my phone to check the time. Fifteen past six. She was supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago. Every minute I sit here, it makes me more irritated, more impatient.
I don’t have time for this.
This small room with its bare walls reminds me too much of the prison cells I spent the last seven years in. The seconds tick by slow. The walls feel like they’re closing in around me—inching toward me like they are about to swallow me whole.
Not only am I one of the oldest students here, but also one of the dumbest. Thanks to the lack of proper education the justice system provided me with, I could barely pass my classes.
If it hadn’t been Mom’s wish for me to go to college, I would get up, walk my happy ass right off campus, and never look back.
I’m not here to make friends or kiss ass. Half the things I’ve seen and done, these assholes wouldn’t be able to handle.
Death. Murder. Pain. Grief. These people have no idea the shit-balls life could throw at you.
The door handle to the room jiggles, and I sneer at it. I should just get up and walk out of here. I’m sure the girl isn’t going to be coming anyway.
“Hi! I’m so sorry. I got lost, then…”
The words I intended to speak pause in thin air. All my irritation and anger disappears, replaced with something else—something I’ve never felt before.
It’s an emotion I can’t quite pinpoint. Instead of focusing on it, I take in the tiny woman before me.
She has fragile features, soft, doll-like. Coal black lashes frame her big blue eyes, and those eyes…fuck, they’re fixated on mine, beckoning me onward. Her coffee-colored hair is braided over one shoulder. It looks soft. I want to run my fingers through it.
What the fuck? I shove the thought away. My gaze drops to her full lips, half parted with whatever words she’d planned to say.
She isn’t wearing a speck of makeup. Her clothes aren’t eye-catching and don’t show off her body, but still…she is perfect.
“I—I’m sorry…” Her creamy white cheeks grow pink with embarrassment.
“You’re late,” I announce gruffly, as if she didn’t already know this.
She sighs, visibly trying to calm herself.
I’ve been through enough shit to know when someone is on the verge of a panic attack. The look in her doe eyes tells me she’s close.
“Please, don’t tell anyone. I need this job. I really, really do.” Tears form in those orbs, and the anguish in her voice tells me she isn’t lying.
Fuck! This isn’t what I need right now. I’m not in a good place, and the moment I open my mouth, I know I’ll ask her what the hell her story is and how I can help her...and that’s just not what I need.
Shutting my brain down, I decide to distract us both. “Calm down. You can make it up to me, baby. I promise I won’t tell anybody. All you need to do is come over here and kiss me.”
Her eyes go impossibly wide at my request. “K-Kiss y-you?” she stutters, staring at me like I just asked her to get on her knees and give me a blow job.
Shit. Now, the image of her sucking me off invades my mind, making it hard to think about anything but her plum, angel-like lips around my cock. Shifting in my seat, I try to ignore how uncomfortably hard my dick is pushing against the zipper of my jeans, begging for me to let him come out to play.
“So, what will it be? Kiss me or possibly lose your job?” I know I’m being an unreasonable asshole, but it’s hard to be anything else when that’s what I’ve been for so long.
She inches forward, like a newborn deer taking its first steps. Her legs seem so wobbly and unsure. For a moment, I think she might fall and prepare myself to catch her.
Never breaking eye contact, she makes it all the way in front of my chair without falling over her own two feet. She clenches the strap of her backpack so tight, her knuckles turn white and her hand quivers.
Fear shines prominent in her eyes, but there’s also curiosity and excitement. I hold my hand out to her, and she looks down at it in wonder. Her fingers ease up on the strap before she lets her backpack slide down her shoulder and drop to the floor.
Her small, shaking hand reaches for mine. The second her soft hand touches my much larger, rougher one, her trembling subsides. I gently pull her down into my lap, and her leg brushes against my hardened dick, almost making me come in my pants.
Her pink cheeks turn into a fiery crimson when she feels the effect she has on me. My cock presses firmly against her thigh, but I don’t care. I have no intention of hiding how she makes my body feel.
Her free hand lands on my shoulder as if it belongs there, and I realize it does.
She belongs to me. She is mine.
The words are foreign to me. I’ve never thought about a woman like this before, and I’m not sure how to feel about it.
My nostrils tingle as I inhale her sweet scent of vanilla and cinnamon. The aroma is something I already know will be forever embedded into my mind, always reminding me of this tiny little creature in front of me.
“I…” she starts.
I hold my finger up to her lips, silencing her. “Shhh. Just kiss me,” I order.
I don’t think she’s even blinked since I first uttered the words. Part of me wonders if she’s going to go through with it.
She closes her eyes, and I take in every tiny detail of her perfect features. Her long, dark lashes fan across her unblemished skin, and she adorably puckers her lips just slightly as she inches toward me.
She’s so fucking adorable, I feel like an even bigger asshole for making her do this. But my selfish needs outweigh my moral code—something that’s partially broken anyway. I want to keep my eyes open, not wanting to miss a second of seeing her, but once her lips touch mine, I’m no longer able to do so.
Her lips graze mine, hesitant. She kisses with a softness that tells me one thing: she’s innocent. My eyes flutter closed, and my brain ceases to work. The world could have stopped spinning, and I wouldn’t have noticed.
My pulse pounds in my ears, and I fist the soft fabric of her shirt. She’s tiny, so fucking tiny, and it breaks down all my walls. The urge to devour, protect, and secure her consumes me, but I rein it in. I’m not the kind of man for someone like her. I’m a broken bastard, hardened by prison and life. I’m also selfish, and feelings aren’t something I can spare right now.
She softly moans into my mouth and a zing of excitement slams into my dick. Her lips are soft, so fucking soft, I press mine greedily against hers, eating up her moans and gasps. I release her shirt and work my way up her body until I’m cradling her face in my hands. It only takes a second for her to realize how wild this could get. She pulls away, a flustered expression marring her beautiful features.
Beep. Beep. Beep. The sound fills the small room. Without thought, she jumps off my lap and scurries back a few feet, clutching her backpack to her chest, looking at me like I stole her innocence.
It’s irritating as fuck. She’s the one who jumped in my lap and kissed me. “Don’t look at me like I killed your fucking dog. I kissed you, and from the way you pawed at me, I doubt you didn’t want it,” I growl in frustration, a cross between need and anger spiraling out of control.
She flinches, her eyes going wide as she pulls her phone out of her backpack and disables the annoying beep. With unsteady han
ds, she gets out her books and lays them on the table next to my notepad. She opens them, turning to a page.
I know she is talking, probably about whatever she is supposed to tutor me in, but I can’t take my eyes off her. Her angelic voice reaches my ears, but I can’t make out the words.
I don’t know how much time passes. Could be a minute or an hour. I’m suddenly pulled out of my trance when the door swings open, and a scrawny, dark-haired kid appears in the doorway.
“Hey, are you Elyse? My tutor?” he asks, pushing his glasses up on his nose.
Nerd. What the fuck does he need a tutor for? The fact that the fucker said her name hits me. Elyse? I let her name roll off my tongue.
It didn’t even occur to me to ask her for her name, not even when I was kissing the living daylights out of her.
“Yes, yes, I am.” She smiles, but it doesn’t meet her eyes. It’s fake, and a look I’m sure she’s given many times. “We were just finishing up.” She turns her attention back to me briefly, pointing to her book. “You got all of this?”
I almost laugh. She can’t possibly think I heard a single word she said. I didn’t get a fucking thing from that book.
Shaking my head, I watch her swallow hard and can’t help but imagine her swallowing something else. Fuck me. I need to get out of here and get her out of my head before this whimsical siren becomes the death of me.
I shove away from the table and stand to grab my still-empty notepad before rushing out of the room and slamming the door shut behind me. I make it exactly three steps down the hall when the thought of her being alone in that room with another guy brings me to a halt.
It’s unsettling how much this little waif of a woman affects me.
Gritting my teeth, I do what every sane man would and walk right back to the door I just came from, positioning myself in front of it. I sigh, leaning my shoulder against the door. I’m close enough to hear them talking inside, and that comforts me.
Time seems to stand still. I know what I’m doing is wrong. I don’t know this girl. I don’t know a damn thing about her, but I want to—and that’s enough for me.
I don’t understand my obsession with her, or why she sparks this curious need inside of me. She is different, and maybe that’s what it is? Maybe because I know for sure she is my opposite in every way. Good, pure, and looking at life with purpose. I have to find a way to see her again. Outside of this stupid fucking tutoring class, and I’ve got the perfect plan.
Get it Now!
Preview of Cruel Obsession
Chapter One
Dove
Paranoia skates down my spine as I walk a little bit faster down the sidewalk. The cold night air fills my lungs, and my heartbeat thuds loudly in my ears. All I can see and feel is that creeper from the party coming up to me and grabbing my wrist. His fingers biting into my flesh. The smell of alcohol on his breath as he spoke into my face.
“Dance with me…” He didn’t ask, he demanded, and there was no way I was going anywhere with him, so I kicked him in the nuts and left the party. But now I can’t help but feel like he’s following me.
Reaching the end of the sidewalk, I chance looking over my shoulder. My gaze falls on nothing but darkness. The light pole above my head does very little to illuminate the street, and when I look back again before crossing the street, I find someone walking toward me.
Panic bubbles up inside of me, and this time, I start running. The air rips through my hair, and my lungs burn as fear implants itself deep in my gut.
Run. Don’t look back. Just keep running.
Cutting down a side street, I hope to throw the guy off, but as I continue running, I can still hear his footfalls behind me. This has to be a nightmare, something I’ll wake up from any second now.
Glancing over my shoulder, I realize it’s anything but a dream. My eyes catch on the plaid pattern of the man’s shirt. Instantly, I know this is the creep from the party. Shit. Instinct tells me to run, but deep in my gut, I know what I should do.
My hands shake as I try and pull my phone out to dial 9-1-1, but my fingers slip over the sleek device, and I keep putting the wrong passcode in. Panting, I make it underneath an illuminating streetlamp and force shallow breaths into my lungs.
A grunting sound meets my ears, and when I look over my shoulder again, the man is gone. Just gone, vanished like he wasn’t there at all.
Dazed, I stare at the exact spot he was in, fearing he’ll reappear any second, but he doesn’t. A strange calmness washes over me. It makes zero sense, but I don’t dwell on it long enough to digest it. Instead, I shove my phone back into my pocket and run the rest of the way home.
By the time I reach my apartment, the exertion is evident, I’m gasping, and a sheen of sweat has formed against my forehead. I fumble with my keys, almost dropping them before finally getting the damn door open. Once inside, I slam the door closed and lock it before turning and sagging against the door.
A moment later, Max is by my side. The eleven-year-old cat I rescued from being euthanized last year has been my most trusted friend. I sink my fingers into his long fur and let his low purring calm me.
You’re okay, everything is okay… I repeat to myself.
It’s been years since I’d felt fear like that, not since I was a little girl living in foster care. My skin crawls, and I suppress the thought.
All that matters is that I’m safe. That I’m in my apartment and nothing happened to me.
Everything is going to be okay…
Chapter Two
Zane
Slamming my fist into the fucker’s face, I watch with glee as agony overtakes his features. He should’ve known he would die, especially after touching what was mine.
An image of my beautiful Dove fighting to get away from him. Her big, blue eyes brimmed with fear, her plump bottom lip trembling. Clenching my fist, I let the anger from that memory sink deep into my bones.
“What were you planning to do when you got her alone? Huh? Why were you following her?” I growl, my patience withering away with every passing second. Part of me doesn’t want to know what he had planned, but the other, bigger part does. I want to hear the words, want them to fuel my anger even more.
“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” the bastard sneers, playing stupid.
I cock my head to the side and give him a bemused expression. “You must think I’m a fucking idiot, huh? That I didn’t see her tell you no. That she didn’t push you away? Or that I didn’t watch her run out of the house and down the street? That I didn’t see you follow a short while later.”
If it wasn’t for me, he would’ve hurt her, but I was there, just as I’ve always been. And just like all the others who have tried to hurt Dove, he too will die at my hands.
“You’re fucking crazy!” he spits. Blood drips down his lip from the punch I landed against it, and all I can do is stare at it. I can’t stop the cruel smile that splits across my face. My blood sings with joy, and the dark beast inside me cheers with elation at the sight of his blood.
Grabbing him by the hair, I tip his head back, reveling in the scream that pierces the air. Ahhh, there is nothing like when they scream or beg for me to let them go. The hope that shows in their faces before all is lost. Before I snuff the light out of their eyes with my hands.
“Crazy? You haven’t seen anything yet,” I sneer.
Clenching my fist a little tighter, I pull back my arm and land another punch, this time, my knuckles meet the bridge of his nose and the satisfying crunch of bone cracking fills my ears.
The monster inside me is terrifying, real, and it consumes me. I don’t stop as his screams continue to echo through the warehouse. They all cry and beg, but at the end of the day, it’s their own fault. Had they made a better choice, they wouldn’t be here.
By the time I’m done, his face is unrecognizable, and he’s slumped over in the chair I’ve tied him to. Turning, I grab a knife and lift his chin, or what’s left of it. T
hen I slice him from ear to ear. I feel nothing as I do this, no that’s not true. I feel something. Joy, happiness, relief. His death makes the weight on my chest a little lighter.
Dove is safer now that I’ve extinguished him. Safer now that another worthless person is gone from her life. Another person wanting to hurt her that won’t ever get the chance.
I was put on this Earth to protect her, to ensure her safety as long as I lived.
I might never have her in the way I want, but at least I can always make certain no one hurts her. She will forever be mine, even if she doesn’t know it.
Walking away from the body, I head to the sink and wash the blood from my hands. I spend way too long watching the reddened water swirl down the drain. When it finally runs clear, I scrub my hands with soap, rinse, and dry them. Pulling out my cell, I text Rob to tell him to get the cleanup crew together.
Most people would probably feel guilt or at least some type of emotion after doing what I just did, but I don’t feel anything.
Not that I can’t feel at all, because I can, I just chose not to. Feeling all the time would make it hard for me to kill people for the mob, on top of protecting Dove.
My phone chimes and I see Rob’s name flash across the screen, letting me know that he’s gotten my message. When he arrives, I walk out to my car like nothing ever happened. I consider just driving home, but at the last second turn onto the street to Dove’s place.
She lives in a relatively safe area, but that didn’t stop me from putting cameras and motion sensors in her house. I would go to any length to ensure her complete safety. Even in the safest neighborhood in the country, no one knows what happens behind closed doors.
Parking on the street a few houses down, I shut the car off, and look up at the apartment building. How much longer can I do this?
