An Innocent Obsession

by Jessa Kane

  I can barely speak around the pressure in my throat, in my middle—everywhere. I’m lost in the grind of our bodies and the bad words he says into the darkness. If what we’re doing is bad, that’s what I am. I’m a bad, bad girl and I want my Daddy to get me pregnant. “Fill me up, Daddy. I want everyone to know I’m yours.”

  Clarke’s mouth lands on mine and our lips begin a frantic dance of teeth and tongues. They’re mating as much as our lower bodies are. Hot breath, moisture, grunting, moaning. A quickening begins in my belly and I cry out, undulating beneath the unstoppable force of Clarke’s pounding body. His teeth snap at my lips when I start to orgasm and he plunges in his tongue deep, so deep, as if to absorb my climax in every way possible. My sex shakes and squeezes around his thrusting manhood, slicking the pathway for an extra-violent drive—

  “Emery. My angel. Goddamn it, the taste of you. The tight, little suck of your pussy is driving me insane.” He shakes the bed with another ramming blow of his body into mine and I feel the hot rapids of his seed spew forth inside of me. My body is only capable of accepting a fraction of what he drains from his loins into mine, and the excess goes creaming down my thighs, splattering onto the comforter—and still he bellows into the opulent bedroom, shaking the chandelier that hangs above us, pumping his powerful hips in uneven movements, before eventually collapsing on top of me, big body shuddering with the power of what we’ve done.

  I’m shaking, too, trying to breathe around the weight of Clarke on top of me. Not that I want him to move. I would rather suffocate than lose the perfect, glorious weight of Clarke on top of me, but I swallow my protests as he rolls to one side, gathering me against him and crooning words of praise into my hair.

  “Angel. My angel, are you okay?” He crushes me to his chest. “The only thing stopping me from losing my mind is knowing I gave you pleasure. Please tell me I didn’t hurt you.”

  I find Clarke’s eyes with mine and let him see the full scope of my happiness. This incredible man just made love to me and it was so much more than I ever could have dreamed. My heart won’t stay still in my chest, alternating between my throat and simply bouncing around like an overinflated ball. “You didn’t hurt me. I’ve never been happier,” I murmur, laying a soft kiss on his lips. “And I’ll never feel this way about another man. Not as long as I live, Clarke. I promise.”

  “Thank God, angel. Thank God.” Clarke searches my eyes, his hands running over my body as if he can’t believe I’m still there. He gives me several long, thorough kisses before leaving the bed and returning with a washcloth to clean the red stickiness from my thighs. The visible proof of my virginity has an effect on his body, his erection rising swiftly, pupils dilating and crowding out the irises of his eyes. But he shakes his head firmly when I give him a questioning look. “I’ve been enough of an animal for one night,” he rasps, lying down on the bed beside me and tucking me into the warmth of his chest. His thumb rubs circles into the base of my neck and meanders down my spine, massaging every inch of me.

  “I feel like I’ve known you for a million years,” he says, pulling me close. “I’m going to give you everything, angel. I’m going to give you all of…me, too. Everything inside me. If you want it.”

  My smile fades, my pulse thudding dully in my temples. “Of course I want it,” I say. “Of course I do.”

  But as Clarke falls into a deep sleep behind me, all I can think about is how I’ve duped him. He’s ready to trust me, give me everything—but he doesn’t know the real me. I’ve lied. I’m a fraud. Oh God, I don’t deserve him. And I’m not just talking about Clarke Carroway, the superhero I’ve been worshipping from afar. I’ve fallen in love with the real him, too. The man behind the appealing exterior. I can’t hurt the man who holds me like a treasure. I can’t.

  Moreover, I don’t think I’ll survive his hurt and disappointment when he finds out I’ve been violating his privacy for years. Not to mention papering my room with his face and talking to his image like it was the real thing. He’ll think I’m crazy.

  He won’t feel the same about me once he finds out.

  If I leave now, at least I’ll have this one perfect night to keep me warm for the rest of my life. Living without Clarke will be agonizing now that I really know him. But I don’t see another way. I don’t see how this can last when him finding out the truth about me is inevitable.

  With tears clogging my throat, I slip out from beneath his arm and dress silently in the dark. And I walk out of the life of my dreams, clinging to the one perfect night I was given.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Clarke

  I wake up confused because it’s light out and I never sleep past five a.m. The light is what reminds me of Emery. Although, reminds is a weak term for what happens when I remember I’m the happiest man alive now. Bliss rushes through my veins at breakneck pace and I start to turn to her side of the bed—as it will henceforth be known—already planning on canceling my morning meetings so I can spoil the hell out of her.

  Guilt makes me freeze before I can face her. God, I was so rough with her last night. She came to me so sweet and trusting—and I turned into an uncontrollable beast. I might have been able to wrestle back some self-control, but her thighs could not have been more welcoming, her moans couldn’t have been louder or more encouraging. I somehow stumbled across the horniest virgin alive and I’ll cut my tongue out before complaining. My cock is already engorged beneath the sheets, searching for her pussy again. Craving it. Decades from now, I’ll still be waking up this way. I know it in my gut. Hot for Emery. My angel.

  My little girl.

  I swallow a groan and fist my dick, giving in and stroking myself a few times, envisioning Emery’s snug, drenched pussy, how she whines the word Daddy.

  Pull yourself together. After she gave herself to me last night so trustingly, I owe her an amazing day. First, I’ll have one of my employees bring her a selection of the finest clothes to choose from. Toiletries. After that, we’ll start with a bath. The hot water should help with the soreness I caused. Breakfast will happen after that—and I’m going to make it for her. I want to watch her perfect lips chewing food I made. Her Daddy will sustain her in every way.

  Fuck it, I’m going to cancel my entire day.

  If we leave by noon, I can have us in London in time for dinner. The flight will give me a chance to learn every single thing about her—which reminds me, I’m going to have my investigator give me a full report on her history. Not because I don’t trust Emery to tell me everything there is to know about herself, but because I need every piece of ammunition to protect her. If there’s a person in her past that could prove a threat in the future, I will know about it and guard her against it. No one is going to touch my angel.

  No one but me—and I’m desperate to get my arms around her.

  Why aren’t they around her now?

  Finally, I turn to face Emery’s side fully, anticipation gathering in my stomach—

  And she’s not there.

  Panic shoots into my throat, my hand reaching out to run over the mussed sheets. Cold.

  “She’s probably just in the bathroom,” I mutter thickly, lunging out of bed and gaining my feet. Trying to collect my scattering thoughts, I pull on my discarded boxers and beeline for the bathroom. “Emery!”

  Empty.

  I jog to the kitchen next, but there’s a voice whispering in my ear that she’s gone. It’s an intuition that I can’t explain…there’s something else odd, though. Something I must have been too absorbed in my angel to notice last night.

  Her magnolia scent lingers.

  And it’s the same scent I’ve smelled in this apartment for years.

  Jesus, what the hell is going on?

  Did I imagine the presence into existence? Did I become so desperate to find that elusive other half of me that was always out of my grasp that I…dreamed Emery?

  “No. She’s real. I know she’s real.” I plow my fingers through my hair and shout at the top
of my lungs. “Emery!”

  Dreaded silence greets me. Why would she leave?

  Christ, what if I hurt her worse than either of us realized last night? What if she left in pain and needing to get away from me? Is she out there hurt? The very idea makes me crazed. I have to find her now. I need her.

  I find my cell phone and dial the head of human resources at Carroway-Silver. “This is Clarke Carroway. I need—” I bash a fist into the kitchen cabinets. “Yes, that Clarke Carroway. Your boss. I need information on one of our employees. Emery Lake. She works in the records room. A file clerk. I need her file emailed to me immediately. And I need to know if she showed up for work this morning. Her new station is in my office, but she might have gone back to the file room. Check in both places. Now.”

  My footsteps pound in time with my heart as I make my way to the second-floor home office, which I rarely use, because I never leave Carroway-Silver. I will now. Now that I have a reason. Her. I just need to find her and bring her back here. Why did she leave? Why can I smell her in my home office? I suck down the incredible scent, wondering how it can be so familiar and fresh all at once. Need her. I need her back here so I can inhale it off her skin.

  The file is in my inbox when I open my email. The only words in the body are, “Ms. Lake is not scheduled for work today. She’s a part-time employee and I’ve double-checked that she has not come in.” Swallowing hard, I open the attached file and scan the contents with desperate eyes. “Her address is…” Am I seeing this right? “She put down my address?”

  Even as I rejoice in seeing her name above my address, apartment number and all, I’m filled with even more panic. I damn well know she doesn’t live here. Yet. So where the hell does she really live? I can’t find her without that information.

  I call the phone number listed on the application, but somehow I know it’s disconnected before the dreaded beeping even starts in my ear.

  “FUCK!”

  I rip the computer out of the wall and throw it across the room, watching it spark and go still. How the hell did I fall in love with this woman and not secure a method of reaching her? Common sense is begging me to consider the possibility she just went out for bagels, but I know—I know—she didn’t. I’m missing something here. Something big, and whatever it is, it’s standing between me being with my angel.

  Forcing myself to breathe, I call my private investigator. He answers on the second ring.

  I give him all the information I have, but an hour later, he still has nothing. My Emery Lake doesn’t exist on social media. She’s not turning up in any law enforcement database and her coworkers know virtually zero about her personal life.

  “Keep looking,” I croak into the phone, returning to the bedroom to dress myself. Again, my nose is treated to the hints of magnolia in the air and I almost can’t bear the sweetness of it.

  Where are you, angel?

  If I have to search every street of New York, that’s what I’ll do. I put on a pair of jeans, throw on a T-shirt and shove my feet into boots. On the way out the door, I call the police commissioner and remind him of the donation I make every year, like clockwork. After giving them her description and being assured that every man in a badge will be on the lookout, I descend to the lobby in the elevator, anxious to start looking while simultaneously terrified that I’m never going to see her again.

  I stride past the doorman, unwilling to wait for him to open the door for me, but his voice halts me before I can leave. “Mr. Carroway!”

  Impatient, I stop and turn, my skull throbbing. “Yes?”

  “That girl you came in here with last night…”

  My pulse kicks. “What about her?”

  His gray eyebrows furrow together. “Well, she looked familiar, but I couldn’t quite place her until now. Never seen her all fancied up like that.”

  “You’ve seen Emery before?”

  “Sure. Every time she’s cleaned your apartment for the last five years.”

  Emery

  I’m never getting out of this bed.

  My body won’t work, except to cry. I’ve cried all morning and afternoon, and Karen is hovering around me like a mother hen, trying to feed me tea and toast, as if I’ll ever eat again. I know I did the right thing walking out of Clarke’s life, before he had to throw me out, but I didn’t expect this wrenching, horrible emptiness.

  I curl up in the fetal position and wail into my pillow, scalding hot tears catching on the scratchy cotton material. Every time I open my eyes and I see one of the images of Clarke taped to my wall, my misery blooms anew, but I can’t bring myself to take them down. I’m never taking them down, especially now that I see them in a whole new light. Before he was just my dark, imaginary lover, and now I see the caring side of him. The passionate CEO who felt stuck in his mission to save the planet, despite his ample power. I see all of him.

  There’s a loud crash downstairs in the orphanage and I jackknife in bed, trading a startled glance with Karen.

  “Emery!”

  “Oh my God,” I breathe. “It’s Clarke. It’s him.” My heart wings around the room like a deliriously happy bird, but utter horror takes the place of my euphoria within seconds. Eyes wide, I look around the room, my veritable shrine to Clarke Carroway. “Karen. Please. He can’t come in here. Stop him.”

  Karen is already halfway out the door and I hear her muffled voice in the hallway outside my room, but her efforts are futile. Clarke bursts into the room looking haunted, his hair standing in every direction, sweat dampening the front of his T-shirt. “Angel, I found you. The cleaning agency had the address. I’m getting you out of this place. My Emery in an orphanage? Cleaning houses?” He moves toward me, so clearly ready to scoop me up and carry me off to a fairy tale, but the pictures on the wall cause a hitch in his stride. He turns in a circle, his expression giving nothing away, although he must be sick to his stomach. How could he not be? His stalker spent the night in his bed. “What is all this?”

  I cram my knuckles up against my mouth and release a sob. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

  His attention returns to me and still, I can read nothing on his gorgeous face. “Explain,” he commands, almost curiously.

  A calmness settles over me. Okay, this is it. This is the last time I’ll ever be this close to the man I love. At least he’s giving me the chance to tell him how he’s affected me. The chance to tell him I love him. It’s more than I deserve and I won’t lose this opportunity to say the words written on my soul.

  “My mother died when I was thirteen and my father…he was in too much debt to keep me. He wasn’t prepared to be a parent, especially alone. So he brought me here when I was fourteen.” In my periphery, I notice Karen slip from the room and close the door behind her. And there I sit, in the middle of my shrine, face stained from tears, facing the object of my not-so-innocent obsession. “I saw you in the paper that same year. At first, I just looked for you on television and sometimes on the internet when I could make it to the public library computers. There was just something about you. I can’t explain it. I know it was my imagination, but I swear…you were looking right at me.

  “I wanted to go to school and become the kind of woman who could h-have you. But I needed money to do that and I…” I press my hands to my flaming cheeks. “I needed to be near you. In any way I could. It was like…if I didn’t get close to you somehow, my heart was going to burst.” My head drops forward because I don’t want to see his reactions to the rest. I can’t witness his disgust. “Karen told me one day that her friend cleans houses for a living and it gave me an idea. I waited outside your building and found out the company you use when they arrived to clean. I l-lied about my age on the application. I told them I worked at the orphanage, not that I lived here. I made some fake references and…they’d just lost some staff and were desperate, so they hired me. I couldn’t believe it. I was cleaning your house.” My voice drops to a whisper. “And touching your things. And lying in your bed and a lot of other th
ings that I’m ashamed of.”

  Still I don’t look up, terrified of what I’ll see.

  “After a while, it wasn’t enough. I know it sounds crazy, but I…thought you were waiting for me. You were never pictured with dates anymore and I just wanted that to be true so bad.” I sniff and wipe at my eyes. “And I know it’s impossible when you’d never even met me. I know that, but my heart wouldn’t rest. It wouldn’t let me stay away. I stalked you.”

  “Emery.”

  “And now I know the real you and…you’re even more incredible than I could have imagined. You’re real. You’re a man with frustrations and hopes…and you mean even more to me now because of it.” I crush my threadbare quilt between my fingers. “I’m so sorry. If you’re going to have me arrested, please don’t get Karen in trouble. She told me I needed to stop so many times—”

  “Have you arrested?” Clarke ducks down into my line of vision, tilting up my chin with a finger so I can see the incredulity on his face. “I came here to take you home, angel, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.” He points at the door. “That was Karen? The one who gave you a place to live and made you dress down so you’d be safer from men?”

  Confused, I nod.

  “Then don’t worry about her. I’m going to make her a very wealthy woman.”

  “What is happening?” I say slowly. “Why are you still standing here?”

  “I was waiting for you, Emery,” he grits out, rapping a fist to his chest. “These last five years, I’ve known you were there. Just out of my reach. It nearly drove me insane. I could smell you. I could feel where you’d been in my apartment. But I couldn’t see you. No one else even compared to the energy you left behind. That energy belonged to the woman I love and I fucking knew it in my soul.” He looks around the room, before his attention zips back to me. “Do you think I’m not going to have our home covered in pictures of you? My desk, my phone, our jet, my wallet. It’s going to be full of every expression you’ve ever made. You think you’re obsessed with me, angel? You haven’t seen anything yet.”