Deadly Obsession

by April Hunt

  She tilted her face to the cloudless night sky. “I’ll stay here and enjoy the stars.” And avoid putting her foot in her mouth again.

  “Don’t fall overboard.” He gestured toward a cushioned bench. “Maybe you should sit until I get back.”

  Zoey plopped down on the seat and caught Knox’s satisfied nod. “I’m not sitting because you told me to sit. I’m just trying to get the feeling back in my toes.”

  “Sweetheart, I don’t care why you’re sitting as long as it means I’m not fishing you out of the river.”

  Zoey wrinkled her nose at his back and watched him disappear below deck. Yawning, she tucked her legs beneath her body and got comfy. Her eyes drooped closed until something brushed her cheek once, then twice.

  With an irritated huff, she batted at the offending nuisance. “Go away. Sleeping.”

  “I can see that.” A husky voice cut through her dream state. “But you need to wake up, sleepyhead. Stay curled up like that much longer and you’re not going to be able to move for a week.”

  Zoey peeled open her eyes and came nose to nose with Knox. She jumped, startled, and crashed the top of her head into his chin with a loud crack.

  “Oh, my God. I’m so sorry.”

  “No worries. I didn’t need a movable jaw anyway.” Knox slid his jaw side to side, barely hiding a grimace. “Shit. Your brother wasn’t lying when he said you’re hardheaded.”

  “Ha. Ha. And to think I almost cared about hurting you.” Zoey ambled to her feet, but on her first step, her legs gave out, attacked by pins and needles.

  Despite having been assaulted by her hard head, Knox quickly banded a supportive arm around her waist. “You okay?”

  “Sea legs. I didn’t mean to maul you.”

  Knox’s watch ticked, emphasizing the sudden awkward silence. Her hands automatically flexed on his arms. That same scent of pine and spice invaded her nose, and she took another involuntary whiff.

  “Are you going to deny smelling me now?” His chest vibrated with his husky question.

  Zoey forced a lump down her dry throat. “No. You smell really, really good.”

  Knox’s gaze flickered down to her mouth, stealing her breath. A rush of thoughts and choices swirled through her head in one jumbled mess. It was difficult to pick out any single one…except the desperate need to feel his lips against hers.

  “We should get you home,” Knox announced.

  But he didn’t move.

  Neither did Zoey. Her heart thumped hard behind her sternum, and led her to making a very un-Zoey-like decision.

  For as long as she could remember, she’d always played things safe, did the smart, responsible thing, and kept her distance from anything that could end in crushing disappointment.

  Stepping so far out of her comfort zone as to kiss Knox Steele definitely risked a severe, crushing blow to her pride. But suddenly, she didn’t care.

  Skating her palms from his biceps to his broad shoulders, she admitted, “I don’t think I’m ready to go home.”

  Knox sucked in a slow, deep breath. “This isn’t a smart idea, angel. For a hell of a lot of reasons.”

  “Like bamboo shoots?”

  “And at least a dozen more.”

  “I’m sick and tired of always doing the smart thing, Knox.” Zoey’s subconscious spoke its piece…aloud.

  “You’ve been drinking.”

  “Mocktails. Glorified fruit punch without a speck of alcohol in them. And the one drink I had was metabolized a long time ago. Would you like me to calculate the exact time it became a non-issue?” She couldn’t blame alcohol if this backfired on her in a stupendous way.

  Zoey swallowed her nerves. Lifting onto her toes, she brushed her lips against Knox’s once, then twice before taking his bottom lip in a gentle nibble.

  He didn’t kiss her back.

  He didn’t deepen the embrace.

  She’d scared the man immobile.

  A tsunami of embarrassment flooded over her as she un-fused her lips from his. She’d barely taken a breath when something snapped…changed. Like the veracity of a lightning strike, one large hand slipped into her hair, and hungrily guided her mouth back for a claiming of his own.

  Suddenly, Zoey was pressed up against Knox’s hard chest, her fingers clutching his shoulders like a lifeline. She couldn’t feel enough…touch enough. This had been one of her best-kept fantasies for so long and she was finally experiencing it.

  And enjoying the heck out of it.

  Knox’s tongue swept against hers and she was more than happy to reciprocate. She returned his enthusiasm with her own, standing in the middle of his boat, oblivious to the world around them.

  This was him devouring her.

  This was her devouring him.

  This was heady, in-the-heat-of-the-moment lust…and the most uncontrolled thrill she’d ever experienced in her life.

  Desperate for more physical contact, Zoey pushed her hips against Knox. The hand not locking their mouths together dropped to her rear end, and held her close enough to feel the growing bulge pushing against her stomach.

  In one moment, Knox’s hands and body surrounded her. And in the next, nothing but cool evening air caressed her skin. As abruptly as their embrace started, it ended.

  Knox, chest rising and falling hard, studied her carefully from three feet away. “This was a mistake, Zoey. I’m sorry. This shouldn’t have happened.”

  Zoey’s throat closed, making it hard to speak. She tugged her shirt back to her waist and counted to five. “You have nothing to be sorry about. I’m pretty sure I started it.”

  “And I’m ending it.” Knox lasered her with a dark look she knew all too well. Regret. “I’m not sticking around.”

  “Pretty sure I didn’t ask you to.” The second he opened his mouth to interject, she raised her hand. “It was a kiss, Knox. Not a marriage proposal, or a request to father my children. It happened, and it’s over.”

  “You’re not going to let me explain?”

  “No. Because there’s nothing that needs an explanation.”

  “Men like me don’t mess around with women like you for a reason. It doesn’t make sense, angel.”

  His words slapped her across the face.

  She blinked, hoping she’d heard wrong, but his tightly pinched expression told her that she hadn’t. Grinding her teeth together, she lifted her chin and forced eye contact. “You’re right. You’re abso-freaking-lutely right. I don’t know what was going through my head.”

  Zoey grabbed her purse, and tucking her boots under her arm, stalked toward the gangway.

  “Zoey, wait.”

  At the foot of the narrow bridge, anger zipped her back around. Knox stood less than a foot away, following.

  “You want to know something, Knox Steele?” She drilled an accusatory finger into the center of his chest. “Women like me don’t need men like you. What I need is a grown-ass adult man. Not a watered-down man-baby who’s so threatened by the idea of being around the people who care about him that he hides behind a job offer that doesn’t make sense.”

  “That’s what you really think, huh?”

  “Yes! And while I’m dishing out honesty, I’m disappointed in you for even entertaining the idea, much less going through with it. Because the Knox Steele I remember was fearless—and I’m not talking about when he put on his uniform. He didn’t let anything stand in the way of something he truly wanted. That’s the man I thought I was kissing. But thank you for clearing up that little misunderstanding.”

  Right now, the honesty felt damn good, but Zoey wasn’t sure she’d feel the same in an hour. She needed distance, and maybe a brain scan. She definitely needed to steer clear of the eldest Steele.

  Her cheeks as hot as the sun, she rushed over the gangway, making it halfway across before stubbing her big toe on a raised lip. She stumbled, catching herself on the railing, but as she pushed herself upright, a faint snap evaporated all relief.

  Balance lost, she teet
ered toward open air, her startled scream—and cursing of Knox’s name—washed away by the murky water of the Potomac River.

  Knox grabbed the life preserver tied to the aft, and rushed to the side of the boat, prepped to dive into the Potomac, clothes, boots, and all. A round of PG-rated curses slowly returned his heart to its normal position.

  Zoey treaded water two feet out from the hull…wet, but safe.

  He propped his arms on the broken railing. “I told you to stop.”

  Zoey’s blue eyes snapped to him. Her blond hair plastered to her head, she spewed water like a geyser, forcing him to swallow a chuckle. “And I don’t hang around where I’m obviously not wanted.”

  “I never said you weren’t wanted, angel.” Far from it. The physical pain he’d experienced pulling away from her still seared his insides, and, he expected, would until they picked up where they left off.

  Which couldn’t happen no matter how much he wanted it to.

  Zoey slipped past all his lines of defense, a skill she’d had for as long as he could remember. And she did it without even trying. Hell, all she had to do was be in close proximity and he was half ready to give up any pretense he had of control.

  She let out a disbelieving grunt. “Aren’t you going to help me get out?”

  He rubbed his stubbled chin. “I suppose I could. But a grown-ass woman should be able to get herself out of this little jam without help from a watered-down man-baby like me. Right?”

  If she had the power to skewer him with a glare, he’d be dead and falling over the railing right after her.

  Mumbling under her breath, she collected her floating boots and swam to the ladder attached to the dock—and then the joke was on him.

  Holy mother of God.

  Knox’s smile evaporated. Wet leather encased Zoey’s perfect backside like a second skin, and her double-layered tank did little to hide the lacy black bra beneath. His tongue dried to the roof of his mouth, and his body, suddenly all too alert, nearly combusted by the time she stepped onto the deck.

  Tossing a dripping purse over her shoulder, Zoey threw him an eat-shit-and-die scowl and gave him a prime view of her ass as she stalked away.

  “Where the hell are you going?” he called out.

  “Home.”

  He followed at a leisurely pace. “You’re going to hoof it all the way back to your condo? Barefoot?”

  “I’ll call a Lyft.”

  “With what? The cell that’s probably floating in a pool of water in your purse? And even if it works, do you think that they’re going to let a woman soaked in river water into their car? Come back to the boat, angel. I’ll get you dry clothes, and then I’ll drive you home myself.”

  “I’ll be fine, thank you.”

  Knox growled at her renewed stubbornness. Enough was enough. Pissed at him or not, she’d be safer alone with him for a few minutes longer than out there by herself traversing the nighttime streets of DC.

  He dodged in front of her, dropped his shoulder, and scooped her into a fireman’s carry. One wide palm anchored on her luscious derriere, he walked back toward his boat.

  “Put me down!” Zoey smacked a small fist against his ass, first by accident, and then with more intent. “I mean it, Knox! I am fully capable of walking on my own two feet!”

  “Says the woman who fell into the Potomac. Keep struggling and you may find your sweet ass back in the river.”

  She gasped. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “You’ve known me for a long time, angel. When have I ever made hollow threats?”

  Never. She and Grace learned that the hard way when they’d snuck out to a frat party that they had no business attending. To this day, he didn’t regret a single bruised knuckle or the severe tongue-lashing he’d gotten from his Army recruiter. Those frat boy horn dogs deserved every ounce of hell that he and Cade had rained down on them.

  Zoey stopped wiggling, making the rest of the trek to his living quarters below deck that much easier. Once there, he returned her to her feet and nodded toward the bathroom. “While you go shower the river off you, I’ll find something for you to wear that won’t fall right off.”

  Her gaze bounced from the exit to the bathroom, and back.

  “You’re wet. You’re shoeless. And I have nothing but time on my hands,” Knox warned. “I could play cat and mouse all damn night if you want.”

  Zoey released an unladylike growl and disappeared into his bathroom, slamming the door closed behind her. As the shower started, Knox closed his eyes and tried erasing the mental image of her shimmying out of her nearly see-through clothes…of using his soap…of drying off with his towel.

  Bad fucking idea, Steele.

  Ignoring the sudden tightness in his pants, he gathered dirty dishes and dumped them in the sink. That done, he scrounged in his drawers, finding an old set of gym clothes, and set them outside the bathroom door.

  Twenty minutes later, he stepped out of his bedroom to find Zoey curled on his sofa, asleep, her hand pillowed beneath her cheek. She looked too peaceful to move, much less wake up.

  He covered her with the throw on the back of the couch and sat his ass in the spring-broken chair two feet away. Oh, he had a perfectly good bed in the back, comfy as hell with the right firm to soft ratio.

  But he didn’t want to leave Zoey out here alone.

  And no way in hell was he prepared to attempt to dissect that.

  He watched from the lot as the dark-haired guy from the bar man-handled His Heart below deck. Movement shifted behind the drape-covered windows in an intimate shadow performance with two distinct actors.

  His Heart.

  And Knox Steele.

  With every window that went dark, his fingers tightened on the steering wheel until pain shot from his cracking knuckles to his wrists. His control had steadily disintegrated since the scene at the Irish pub.

  He’d been forced to watch then too.

  But it was too early to make his move. As much as it pained him to admit, neither of them was ready. It wasn’t their time.

  Yet.

  He jerked back onto the street and headed to a place he knew as well as his own. No detours. No traffic. No tolls to avoid. It wasn’t long before he pulled into the familiar lot, one devoid of streetlights and cameras, and parked in the far back corner.

  No one would question him. No one would stop him. They never did. He put people at ease, winning their trust without effort. It was a gift that had served him well through the years, and one in which he took a great deal of pride.

  He tossed his duffel bag over his shoulder and treaded quietly along the winding path, bypassing his favorite oak perch. On the occasion that he needed a quick glimpse into Her world, it served its purpose well. But this time, a glimpse wouldn’t do.

  He needed to surround himself in Her essence.

  She needed to become part of his day.

  As her vivid blue door came into view, tingles zipped down his spine. But it was nothing compared to the euphoria that washed over him when he stepped into Her apartment.

  Gaining access had been ridiculously easy…a well-placed smile here, and a coy chuckle there. The complex manager hadn’t questioned his interest in the Kingsbrooke apartment community, trusting him enough to leave him alone for the few minutes it had taken him to copy her master key.

  He had that lovely woman to thank for each and every one of his visits.

  From the flowery fragrance that hung in the air to the yellow-painted walls and decorative artwork, His Heart could be found in every inch of the small apartment. The bookshelves, filled with knickknacks and leather-bound books, showcased not only her love of literature, but family.

  He set his bag on the table and was rewarded with a low, rumbling growl. His Heart’s furry behemoth slinked out from behind the couch, golden eyes locked on him in distrust.

  “We’re both looking out for Her, aren’t we?” He dug into his pocket and pulled out a handful of treats. As expected, the feline gobbled th
em up and turned away, leaving him to do the job for which he’d come.

  One by one, he pulled the cameras from his bag. Discreet but high-functioning, they’d serve their purpose to watch over Her when he couldn’t. It was something he’d contemplated on previous visits, but hadn’t followed through with until tonight. Seeing what happened at the marina only solidified the urgent need for their use.

  The kitchen. The living room. He worked through the apartment until he reached the bedroom. Running his hand over the lilac comforter, he bypassed the unused side and climbed into the spot that She’d claimed as Her own.

  “Ah. My Heart.” He burrowed his nose into her pillow, her lingering scent firming his cock.

  Dropping his hand to his zipper, he groaned.

  She’d lain in this exact spot mere hours ago…

  Asleep, her body undulating in slow, languid movements…

  Skin caressing the soft sheets…

  As the mental images of His Heart played in his head, he rubbed his palm over his hardening bulge. It twitched, urging him to rub faster.

  “Soon, My Heart.” He arched his hips up into his palm. “Soon you’ll realize that only I can give you what you deserve…and only you can give me what I need.”

  Each breath fell from his lips in heavy pants. Sweat dotted his forehead. His cock, rigid and heavy in the throes of lust, throbbed until with a loud grunt of release, he came in a series of violent bursts.

  Panting through the last rolls of pleasure, he lay there, hesitant to leave, though knowing he had no choice. He secured the last camera, and before calling it a night, looked for a few tokens to complement the ones he’d taken last time.

  In Her small jewelry box, he chose a pair of earrings and a silver necklace. While contemplating a third trinket, his gaze locked on to a photograph tucked off to the side.

  In it, both His Heart’s smile and her sparkling blue eyes were directed toward the man whose arm draped her shoulders.

  Knox Steele.

  Picking up the jewelry box, he hurled it against the wall. Wooden pieces splintered apart, spilling both the box’s contents and his hard-fought control.

  He tossed. He destroyed. He obliterated everything in his path, removing himself from the situation—and Her apartment—only when his destruction crunched beneath his feet.