Obsession (Stalker #1)

by Alice C. Hart

  I turn in bed to face Jake and he is so, so, I don’t know what the word is, and it’s killing me. I don’t want to call him beautiful, except that he really is beautiful. Nobody has ever made me pass the fuck out or orgasm that quick in all my twenty-nine years. EVER!!! I’m staring at him. I don’t want him to pass out from my morning breath. I need to brush my teeth, pee, and check to make sure I don’t look like Medusa.

  I slide out of bed and pad over to the bathroom and get my first glance, and it’s so obvious that I was thoroughly fucked last night. I look down at my toes and see the little bite marks he left and I shiver. Toes. Who fuckin’ knew? A weakness I didn’t even know I had. I do my business in the bathroom, brush my teeth, and brush my hair a bit, and head back to bed. I see Jake is awake now.

  “Good morning, Abby, how did you sleep?”

  How did I sleep?! “I don’t think I’ve slept that well ever, Jake.”

  He grins, stretches out, and I notice how tight and toned his body is. He really looks so good under my covers. I move to put some clothes on.

  “I’m going to go make us some breaky. So move that fine ass down to the kitchen when you’re ready. I hope you like French toast!” I holler, sashaying my ass down the stairs.

  I know we need to talk about what happened and what this all means and blah, blah, blah. Talking about my feelings is not my strong suit at all. My words get jumbled. I say random shit that pops into my head because, as I have mentioned before, I have zero head to mouth filter. Hey, at least I’m honest. I start gathering the stuff to make my French toast; eggs, bread, milk, cinnamon, and vanilla. The tiny dash of vanilla is what makes them killer. Seriously, try it!

  I put orange juice on the counter and I get the kettle going for some tea. I’m setting out our plates when Jake comes down the stairs wearing his jeans from last night with no shirt. His feet are bare. Oh, fuck me gently with a chainsaw, how am I supposed to function when he looks like a God in the morning? I go back to minding the French toast. Jake comes up from behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. He starts kissing my neck.

  “Jake, I’m going to burn breakfast if you keep that up.”

  He squeezes me a bit tighter, whispering in my ear.

  “Abby, I can’t wait to eat you- err, I mean eat your French toast. It smells delicious, as do you, baby.”

  Man, oh man, am I ever in trouble! Breakfast is ready and he pours himself some juice and then makes me tea.

  “Jake, we need to talk.” I sit across from him at the table and wonder how the hell he knows what I like in my tea.

  “I know we do, baby, and I’m going to make this super easy for you. I like you, Abby. I have for a while now. I’m not sure what made me so bold last night, but I’ve had my eyes on you and I’m pretty sure you know it. I need you to know that I have a daughter. She’s three years old and her name is Isabelle. She is the light of my life and will always come first. I’m not sure how you feel about kids and you mentioned something about endo-whatever and a Mirena. I’m not sure what you meant by all that, but, I know this; you and I are probably going to be a complete complicated mess, but I can handle it if you can.”

  Well, there you go. Nothing like laying all your cards on the table. He starts diving into breakfast like this is the most natural conversation we could be having.

  Well, all righty then, let me hit him with my shit and see how this goes.

  “Jake, I know about Isabelle and think she’s adorable. I could squish her face, she’s so cute. I’m not ready to meet her yet and hope you understand that. I need time to process what that means for me. As for my endometriosis, the short of it is basically I have an insane amount of tissue that grows all over my reproductive organs. It’s literally everyfuckinwhere. I’ve had four surgeries and I have been a guinea pig for medications like nobody’s business. It runs in my family and it started affecting me when I was twenty-two. Fuckin’ genetics… Anyway, I’m twenty-nine and have never been pregnant, Jake. Like ever. I had thought I wanted kids one day, but it seems my uterus hates me and won’t cooperate. I’ve come to terms with it and so has my family. Right now, the endo is under control, but can come back at any time. Hence, the four surgeries. The last one seemed to work and I’ve been ok for the past three years. I’m not in pain anymore, thank the uterus gods. The doctor says the hormones from the Mirena, which is a form of birth control called an IUD, will benefit my condition. So far it has, and I feel better than I have in years. You are actually lucky you missed all the shit I had to go through.”

  I look down at my food, trying not to look pitiful. I don’t want pity.

  “So you can’t have kids and that’s just that?” Jake asks, looking a bit confused.

  Was I not clear? “Nope, not in the cards for me, I guess.”

  We finish our breakfast and I go to clean up when Jake stops me.

  “Abby, I’ll clean up. Your French toast was amazing and the cook should never have to clean.”

  Who am I to argue with that! “Thanks. If you don’t mind, I am going to take a shower. Oreo! Come get your breakfast! Jake, whatever you do, don’t touch Oreo’s ears or tail.”

  I start the shower to give the water some time to heat up, and then head to my bedroom to strip. Talking with Jake isn’t nearly as hard as I thought it would be. I know our lives are about to flip upside down and inside out, but hey, sometimes life is about taking chances. I go to the shower and stick my hand under the water to test the temperature. It’s just right. I hop in and let the water pound on my back. I have a massaging shower head and it feels so good. I could stand under here forever. Instead, I replay my conversation with Jake over in my head and wonder if I can handle what is about to come my way.

  He seemed really sad about the fact that I can’t have kids of my own and I hope that’s not a deal breaker since I have zero control over my uterus. I always took it as a sign that maybe I was never supposed to be a mother. I don’t know how people do it. I mean, it’s hard enough taking care of myself most days. Now that I’m thinking about it, none of my friends have kids yet. Weird… I think Nikki, or was it Nat, who dated some dude with kids. I’m not sure, but I do know it didn’t work out. Things to think about at some point I suppose.

  I finish up and make my way to the bedroom.

  Jake

  How can a woman like that not be able to have kids? Abby would make a kick ass mom, no doubt. She says she’s ok with it. My Spidey senses tell me she’s ok with it only because she’s got no choice but to be ok with it. I finish up the dishes and set them to dry on the mat on the counter. Abby can cook, too. Bonus! I mindlessly organize things in her kitchen, my thoughts are interrupted when I hear her phone chirp. It’s in view on the counter and I see a text from Dallas.

  Hey, you twat waffle whore! Are we still on for tonight?

  What in the fuck is a twat waffle? I shake my head because Dallas is always calling The Shelter to talk to Abby. Dallas is quite the chatterbox and speaks at super human speed. I usually don’t understand half of what she says. I always hear Abby telling her to slow the fuck down and speak at a speed of Mach two instead of Mach twenty. I overhear Abby talk to her cousin all the time and know that Abby is the Maid of Honor in Dallas’ wedding. It’s in February, which isn’t all that far away considering we are in September now.

  I fucking hate weddings with a passion, and if I could take back marrying that bitch, I surely would. Except, I love my daughter with all my heart. She is my princess, my light, my heart. Actually, I need to call Tiffany to make sure I’m still picking Izzy up later, since it’s my night with her.

  I hear Abby as she emerges from the bathroom. I want to see her dripping wet, so I make my way up to her bedroom. Fuck me- did my heart just stop? Abby is wet, naked, and on the bed with a come hither look in her eyes. Oh, I’ll hither all right.

  “Jake. Jeans off. NOW.”

  I’m not one to argue and strip my jeans, chucking them to the floor. My cock is gravitating towards her all on his own.<
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  “Baby, spread your fuckin’ legs and lie the fuck back down.”

  I literally dive into the bed like I’m going swimming in her freshly washed million dollar pussy. I spread her legs further apart and am staring at her cunt, when it hits me.

  “Abby, what in the fuck is a twat waffle?”

  Abby starts shaking and the laugh that comes from her is quite ear deafening.

  “Oh my shit, Jake! Why are you nose deep in my pussy asking me what a twat waffle is? Bahahahahahaha!” She starts to squeeze my head between her legs, screaming that she’s going to pee.

  “FUCK NO! ABBY! Don’t pee with my face down here, let me go!” She loosens her legs from around my head and I peek up at her red face. Swinging her legs over my head, she falls off the bed. She laughs harder. Is this chick ok? Abby runs to the bathroom. Thank fuck, because I’m not down with drinking pee. I can still hear her laughing as she’s peeing.

  “Oh my shit, Jake, where the fuck did you hear that?” She’s still giggling.

  “Your phone chirped while I was cleaning up and I saw Dallas calling you a twat waffle whore.” I hear her flush and she laughs even more.

  The sink faucet turns on, and I hear her muttering, “Fuckin’ Dallas is the twat waffle whore.”

  “Abby, what in the fuck is it? Is it gross?” She can’t even keep a straight face.

  “Well, Jake, remember my books you were also fingering last night, hmmmm? Well, Dallas and I both read mostly the same books. Tara Sivec is where we heard it from and now it’s kind of stuck with us. So, if you’re going to be my man, so to speak, you better get down with the lingo,” Abby says, pulling on her jeans.

  This chick is whacked and I’m pretty sure I’m in love with her. Fuck Me. “You are something special, Abby Osborne. I hate that the mood is ruined, but I have to make arrangements to pick Isabelle up a bit later. I was hoping I could see you tonight.”

  Let’s see how this plays out. The worst she’ll do is tell me to fuck off and say she doesn’t want to be anywhere near Izzy. She did mention that she’s not ready to meet her yet. The words are already out there.

  I need to be ready to shake it off if she says no.

  Abby

  What in the hell am I supposed to say to that?

  “Jake, are your ears broken? Because I specifically said I’m not sure I’m ready to meet Isabelle yet. We basically just happened last night and I’m not looking for an Insta-Brady Bunch family at the moment. I’m not trying to be a bitch here, Jake, but I’m not sure tonight is the right night to meet her.”

  Oh my shit. He looks like I just killed his dog and I think I may have hurt his feelings. I don’t want to hurt him.

  “Look, why don’t you hang with Isabelle tonight without me. I have plans tonight with my girls, anyway. Hence the twat waffle whore text from Dallas. It’s just drinks and I’ll give you a shout later. Is that cool?” Is that a look of relief I see on his face?

  “Abby, I can’t wait to have you in every aspect of my life. I know this is happening a bit fast, but it also feels like the most natural thing in the world to me. So, go have fun with your girls. Gimme a shout later, if you want. I’ve got to get going to pick up Izzy.”

  Jake goes to gather his stuff and probably put his shirt on. Such a shame to cover that chest! While I wait for him to come back down, I text Dallas and tell her to be at my place tonight by seven. Jake comes back, stalking towards me. He looks like he is on a mission, for what, I’m not sure, but here he comes. He grabs my face with both hands and kisses me like his life depends on it. I willingly return the sentiment. Did he just growl? Oh my. He presses himself into me and I feel his cock straining and I know he wants more. I grind my pelvis into him. Take that baby! Two can play at this game and I’m always the winner.

  “Baby, you taste so fuckin’ sweet I could stand here and kiss you all day.”

  I’m sure it’s the French toast making me tasty right now, but I take the compliment and smile.

  “Jake, I can’t wait to have a whole day to kiss every inch of you. Don’t think I didn’t notice those tattoos of yours, either. I plan on tracing them with my tongue. You may have won the battle last night, but the war isn’t over yet, baby.”

  I know this sets him straight. I get that classic smirk of a grin that always makes me smile like an idiot. I’m almost positive he does that shit on purpose to get to me. I walk Jake to the door, his hand laced through mine, and tug him towards me one more time. I can’t get enough of the kissing! Kissing a man who knows how to kiss is one of the most sensual things I think a woman can feel. With his arms around my waist, I press myself up against him making sure to press my ample boobs right into his chest. God, why can’t I even let him leave, for fuck’s sakes? Did I just purr? I must have because his chuckle is letting me know he definitely heard me.

  “Have fun with Isabelle tonight and I’ll call you later,” I say.

  “Ok, baby, have a good time tonight and try to stay out of trouble, if you can.”

  Like I ever mean to get into trouble. Trouble finds me everywhere I go, but everything is always one hundred percent under control. Giving him my best Cheshire grin, I nod sweetly and say goodbye.

  Sighing, I close the door behind him. I do the classic girly thing and dramatically press my back against the door and slide to the floor.

  Oh, I’m in big, big trouble.

  Jake

  Thoughts of Abby are swirling through my head. As I leave, I’m digging through my pockets to find my keys and cell phone. I see someone by my Jeep. I keep walking and click the doors to unlock, startling the guy.

  “Hey, Jake, nice to meet you.”

  Who the fuck is this guy and how does he know my name?

  “Uh, hey…”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. My name is Kevin and I live in one of the other apartments in the house.”

  “Hey, Kevin, have we met before? You look really familiar.”

  Staring straight at me, Kevin doesn’t miss a beat. “Yes, we’ve met a few times, actually. I’m a cop who frequents The Shelter so you’ve probably seen me around there. Hell, we may have even spoken a few times. I’ve had to come by to arrest some guys for you.”

  Oh hell. “Yeah, that’s right. You look different out of uniform. Have we been formally introduced?” I look Kevin dead in the eyes.

  “Not really, but the walls are thin, my friend, and I heard Abby screaming like she was being murdered. I almost came over there with my gun until I heard her screaming, ‘Oh God, Jake! Don’t stop!’”

  Can you say awkward… What the fuck am I supposed to say to this guy? “Sorry about that, Kevin, we’ll try to keep it down next time. Nice to meet you and I guess I’ll see ya around.”

  I shake his outstretched hand and then climb into my Jeep. Is it me or was that weird? I’m pretty sure it was weird because I’ve never had another grown ass man say that kind of shit to me, whether they heard people fucking or not. I’m going to have to ask Abby about him later. For now, I’m going to Tiff’s to pick up Isabelle.

  I hope to hell Tiffany is not in a bitchy mood today.

  Abby

  It’s only about eleven in the morning so I have lots of time to kill before my bitches get here. I decide to check my Facebook and see what’s going on. Blah, blah. OH! A cat video! Score! I don’t know what it is, but cat pictures and cat videos fuckin’ kill me and I post them religiously. Speaking of, where is my handsome little devil Oreo? I holler for him and he comes running, sliding across the floor and slams into the wall. I wince. He really needs to work on his technique or at some point he’s liable to get brain damage.

  Oreo comes over to the couch and curls up with me. We watch cat videos and post them on Facebook. I do a group post of some girls drinking and dancing. I tag Dallas, Nikki, Nat, Amanda, and Kim and tell them to be at my place seven sharp. It’s not often where all six of us have a night off at the same time, so when we do, we like to make the most of it.

  Nikki and Nat are twins wh
o are polar opposites. It’s like Nikki is the good twin and Nat is the bad one, but it all seems to balance out. They are redheads, or should I say were redheads. Nikki stayed red, while Nat recently went a darker brown. They have blue eyes and pale skin with a slight dusting of freckles on their faces. They are about five feet eight and never do the “twin” thing of dressing alike and they never have. Amanda is a sweet, fun bitch with blonde hair, hazel eyes, about five foot four and curvaceous. She’s gorgeous, but doesn’t know it. She works full time at The Barking Lot, an upscale doggie daycare in Etobicoke. Then, we have my sweet Kim, who is about five foot three, blonde hair, blue eyes, and a huge rack that she bought and paid for. She has a horrendous track record of looking for love in all the wrong places. We’ve all been friends for about five years now.

  Working at The Shelter, I’ve made a lot of friends. We have different specialty areas at various locations. Dallas works in the section for women and children, while Nikki and Nat are both registered nurses at the nearby hospital where many of our “residents” from The Shelter frequent. Nikki works in the Psych Unit and Nat works in the Emergency Department. Kim also works at a hospital in the downtown area for women. She’s also a nurse, but calls herself a “baby catcher.” She helps deliver babies. I think that is some of the grossest shit I’ve ever witnessed.

  Let me tell you about the time I met Kim. It was when I saw my Aunt Michelle give birth. Michelle invited me because she knows I can’t have kids and this would be the closest I’d get to see a baby being born. Nobody prepared me for what would happen when she went into labor. That was the most intense experience of my life. Have you seen a nurse ram what looks like a knitting needle up into a woman’s vagina? No? Until then, me either. I guess she needed to break her water. Whatever.