Obsession (Forbidden #2)

by Michelle Betham

  I can’t help the derisive snort. ‘What was best for me was having her in my life. I was happy. Or doesn’t happiness come into it with you?’

  ‘Of course happiness comes into it… Come on, Neal. You’re not some lovesick teenager, you only knew her for five minutes…’

  I kick my chair back and pull him off the desk by his shirt collar, slamming him back against the wall. ‘You don’t even get to allude to her, you got that? And don’t ever think you know what I felt for her, because you have no fucking idea. None.’

  He holds up his hands and I let go of him, giving him one more push before I step back, raking an agitated hand through my hair. It’s only been a day since she left me, but it feels like I’ve been without her forever.

  ‘I’m sorry, Neal, OK?’

  I sit down on the couch by the window and drop my head into my hands. ‘I don’t care if you’re sorry or not. It doesn’t change anything.’

  He sits down beside me and I let him. I’m too tired for any more confrontation. I didn’t exactly sleep last night. I couldn’t. Every time I closed my eyes I saw images of Kira, and him, naked and fucking. I kept imagining what they were doing – was she sleeping in his arms the way she used to sleep in mine? Did she wake up this morning and still want to be with him? Because there’s still a huge part of me that can’t stop hoping she’ll change her mind and come running back to me.

  ‘Once you’ve got your head back in the game, bro, everything’ll start to come together again. You’ll see.’

  I keep my head down, because I’m not buying his simplistic shit. Nothing’s gonna be that easy. Life after Kira Blu is gonna be tough and empty and hard. But he’s right in one respect – I do need to get my head back in the game. Work is all I have now. I’m not going back to the escorts or the soulless sex I once sought from them. Those days are over. Being with Kira made me realise that. I know I can love again, it’s just that, right now, I can’t love anyone but her.

  I don’t want to.

  Maybe one day I will.

  But until that day happens, work is all I have.

  Kira

  I have to tell Joey, today. I have to tell him what I’m doing. And I’m scared – of his reaction, of him telling me what I’m doing is wrong. I’m scared. But I don’t think what I’m doing is wrong. I have to take this chance.

  I turn over and gently run my fingers down Jon’s back as he sleeps, and I can’t help smiling. He always used to sleep on his stomach even though, most times, he’d usually fall asleep on his back. But, somehow, he’d always wake up on his stomach. And that’s a memory that’s waited until right now to show itself.

  I watch his sleeping face, both arms up by his head, his mouth slightly open as he breathes quietly, his fingers clenching the pillow tight and I wonder if he’s dreaming. About what the hell we’re supposed to do next.

  I get up quietly, because I don’t want to disturb him yet. I need a bit of time to think; to get my head around the fact I’m waking up next to him this morning, and not Neal. And for a second I wonder what Neal’s doing now.

  I look over at the clock on the wall. It’s almost nine-thirty, which means he’ll be at the gallery. He never goes to the club this early. It’s usually late afternoon before he even thinks about going there. So he’ll be at the gallery. And my heart aches as I think about what I’ve given up, to be with Jon; the life I could have had, for one I know nothing about. Jon and me, we don’t know what we’re doing. We don’t even know where we’re going. We just know that we need to be together.

  I rest my forehead against the window as I look out on to the streets of New York. We’re not far from Times Square here in Jon’s hotel, and I smile as I remember the night Neal first took me there. How incredible I thought it was, all lit up and loud. I kept telling him how beautiful I thought it was, and he kept telling me how beautiful I was. It was one of my first nights here in this city. And now I’m about to experience some of my last. Without him.

  I place a hand against the glass as I continue to stare outside, not really taking anything in now. All I can see are people rushing about, the roads busy with traffic. It’s just moving pictures, I’m not concentrating on anything, I can’t.

  I close my eyes for a couple of beats, keeping my hand and my forehead pressed against the glass for a little while longer before I finally pull away and go back over to the bed.

  He’s still sleeping, and I lie back down beside him and stroke his back again, leaning over to lightly kiss his shoulder. I want him to wake up now. And as I kiss his shoulder again he begins to stir, shifting slightly, so I press my hand a little harder against his back. ‘Hey, sleepyhead.’

  He laughs quietly, but doesn’t make any attempt to move, so I straddle him, pushing myself down on to him as I lean over and kiss the space just below his ear, nipping his earlobe with my teeth.

  ‘Oh, babe, you are so fucking wet,’ he groans.

  ‘Am I making you hard?’ I murmur, my mouth still resting against his ear as my fingers slide between his.

  ‘You bet your beautiful arse you are, darlin’.’

  I let go and roll off him, on to my back, and he’s between my legs in a second, his hands holding mine, keeping them up by my head.

  ‘Is this how you wake people up now, huh?’

  ‘Pretty much.’

  He laughs again, a rougher, huskier laugh than Neal’s, but it still sends a shiver coursing through me. ‘Is this gonna last, then? Being woken up by a beautiful ex-escort who fucks like a dirty frigging angel?’

  ‘That all depends on you, Mr Ryan.’

  He arches an eyebrow, then pounces on me, which makes me scream and laugh out loud as he playfully bites my shoulder before kissing me, long and slow. And I feel his fingers squeeze mine tight as the kiss deepens, my stomach contracting with every move of his mouth against mine. I can still hardly believe he’s here; hardly believe the impact his reappearance in my life has had. And neither of us knows what’s really going to happen, because the things we’ve still yet to overcome; the subjects we need to address, they’re things neither of us has even attempted to bring up yet. But we have to. We both know that. Just, not right now.

  I arch my back as his mouth moves down, his hands still holding on to mine as he kisses the base of my throat, but then he lets go of me and takes hold of my hips and I breathe in deep as he moves lower, the anticipation making my skin break out in goose bumps.

  ‘Open those beautiful legs wider, kid,’ he murmurs, that soft scouse accent of his making my stomach flip over, because I remember how strong it was when we first met, when he first moved to the north east; when we were just kids. It’s gotten softer and less prominent as he’s gotten older.

  I slowly open my legs a little wider and he takes hold of my knees, keeping them apart, and my stomach clenches as I wait for the inevitable. And when his warm mouth touches me I gasp, my body jerking slightly as he licks me, his tongue probing and searching places it hasn’t been to in a long while.

  Gripping the pillows tight between my fingers I close my eyes and arch my back even more, but he wants me to raise my hips now. He moves a hand underneath my bottom, pushing me up slightly so he has more access, and I moan quietly as he pulls me apart and moves his tongue further back, then forwards until he’s circling my clit, nipping it between his teeth, and I can’t stop the cries of pleasure from escaping. It’s a beautiful, almost comforting feeling. It’s like coming home to something familiar, yet different. It’s so hard to explain, what’s happening here, because I still haven’t quite got my head around it all. I just know that I made the right decision. I think.

  I feel those white-hot tingles start to take hold and I push myself against him as his tongue probes harder, deeper, and I wait for the climax to hit. And when it does he stays exactly where he is as I come in short, sharp waves, one after the other, and he’s drinking me in, swallowing me down, and I can’t remember the last time he did this. The last time he went down on me. He never
used to do it that often, not even when he was pretending to be nothing more than my client. But it feels so good he better be thinking of doing it more.

  He lowers me back down and I keep my eyes closed for a second or two as I try to catch my breath, but I’m aware of him beside me now; of his fingers lightly touching my breasts, his thumb flicking over my nipples as he kisses me gently. But I’m kind of done with gentle, and in an action so quick he had no chance of seeing it coming I flip him over on to his back and straddle him, taking him in my hand and guiding him inside me, sinking down on to him. And his groans fill the room, loud and long and low as I ride him hard and slow, at first. But then I ramp up the rhythm, pick up speed and ride him faster and harder until he’s coming in a succession of jerks and thrusts, my muscles gripping him as tight as I can as he spills out inside of me in what feel like never ending spurts.

  ‘Jesus fucking Christ, kid. I’d forgotten how frigging good you were at this.’

  I lean over and kiss his mouth, the taste of me still lingering on his lips. ‘I told you, Jonny. I’m not the same girl you fell in love with all those years ago. You watched me change, and you know why I had to. You know the old me is never coming back. So you have to be sure you want this version of me.’

  ‘The sexy-as-hell, beautiful one who gives great sex and likes playing dirty?’

  ‘Really dirty,’ I whisper, my mouth resting against his, breathing him in.

  ‘You don’t think I want that?’

  ‘I’m being serious, Jon. If we stand any chance of this working, it’s a new me you’re getting. Even the escort days are behind me now. But, you know, some of the stuff I learned during my time doing that job, it would be a shame to let all of that go to waste.’

  He grins, and I smile back, and his hands hold tight on to my hips as he raises me up slightly and pulls out of me, but he’s still hard. And I still want him. I’m not done yet.

  ‘Such a shame…’

  I edge backwards, pushing his knees up as I dip my head.

  It’s the first day of my uncertain new start.

  But I need just a bit more time before I get out there and start living it.

  Neal

  ‘I really am sorry, Neal.’

  I turn to see Helen standing by a brand new sculpture that arrived in the gallery this morning; a piece I ordered in for a much-treasured client of mine. He’s coming to collect it later and I need to make sure everything’s in order before he takes ownership of it. ‘Sorry for what?’ I ask, looking down at the pile of papers in my hand.

  ‘For the way things turned out, with you and Kira. I hope I…’

  She stops talking the second I look up. ‘It had nothing to do with you, or Barry. OK?’

  She bows her head and I sigh quietly. None of this is her fault, even if she is stupid enough to listen to my brother.

  ‘Look, I’m sorry. Really. I’m just a bit – I dunno. A bit tired. It’s been a long few days.’

  She raises her gaze and throws me a small smile. She really is quite pretty, but she isn’t Kira. No one will ever be Kira. And there’s gonna come a day when I have to get over that, I know, but right now I’m quite happy wallowing in self-pity; in what-ifs and maybes.

  ‘She must be crazy, to walk away from you.’

  I drop my head and turn my concentration back to those papers in my hands. ‘She had her reasons.’

  ‘Listen, Neal, if you ever… if you ever need to talk. About anything. I’m a very good listener.’

  I look up, and throw her a small smile back. ‘I’m sure you are. But I’m gonna be fine. I’ve got a lot to keep me busy.’

  ‘Good, that’s… that’s good. Well, I’ll… I’d better get back to my own gallery. Got a lot of work to catch up on. Maybe I’ll, see you around?’

  She phrases that as a question, but I don’t give her any definitive answer. Kira’s been out of my life less than twenty-four hours. I’m not really ready for another relationship just yet.

  I watch as she walks out of the gallery, and I go back over to the sculpture, checking every little detail again, even though I’ve done that a dozen times since it arrived here. I’m just looking for another distraction.

  ‘Was that Helen?’

  I hear Barry come out on to the gallery floor but I don’t look up. ‘Yeah. She just wanted to let me know how sorry she was, about what happened with me and Kira.’

  ‘You could do worse than her, you know.’

  This time I do look up. ‘Seriously? You’re tying this now?’

  He shrugs, and I could hit him, I really could. He has no idea how much of a prick he is. ‘She’d drop her panties for you in a nano second, bro. Any woman would.’

  ‘Yeah. ‘Cause that’s exactly what I’m looking for right now.’

  ‘Well, y’know, maybe it should be. I’m not saying go back to the days when you paid escorts for sex, I mean, look what happened when you kept on trying that…’

  I throw him a look, because I really can’t be bothered with the confrontation anymore. I just want him to shut up. And I think he gets the message now.

  ‘All I’m saying is, maybe getting back on the horse, so to speak, is the best way to get over her. She helped you move on, I get that. And that’s good. You needed to do that. So don’t waste all that work, Neal. Get out there and find yourself someone who won’t walk away from you the second an old boyfriend shows up.’

  ‘I think he was more to her than just an old boyfriend, Barry.’

  ‘Maybe he was…’

  I narrow my eyes as I look at him. Something didn’t feel right there, but I let it go. I’m reading shit into everything at the minute.

  ‘She lied to you. She hid things from you. Could you really trust her anymore?’

  Yeah. I could. I’d forgive her anything if she’d just tell me she was staying here, with me. I’d forgive her fucking anything.

  ‘Just keep moving on, Neal. OK? Don’t let her leaving you set you back.’

  He has no clue what he’s talking about. He can’t ever have really been in love or he’d understand just how I’m feeling right now. I feel like someone reached into my chest and tore my heart out with one, rough yank, leaving this huge empty space that can’t ever be filled. ‘I’ll move on when I’m ready, alright? Can you call Frank Carter and tell him his sculpture’s here? And let me know when he’s sending someone over to collect it. I want to be here when it leaves, but I need to go over to the club at some point this morning.’

  ‘Why?’

  I look at him as though he’s just asked the most stupid question ever. ‘Because I own the fucking place, Barry. And I kinda like to be there for the odd staff meeting.’

  ‘And what about Kira?’

  Just hearing him say her name makes my stomach lurch, and I suddenly realise my fingers are gripping the pile of papers I’m holding way too tight, almost ripping the pages. ‘Why would she be there?’

  ‘She still has a stake in the place, doesn’t she? Or is she very much a silent partner now?’

  ‘I asked you never to talk about her, so don’t. Give me that much, OK?’

  He holds up his hands and backs away into his office.

  She probably won’t be there.

  She more than likely won’t be there.

  But it doesn’t stop me from hoping.

  Kira

  ‘I don’t believe you, Kira, I really don’t.’

  I didn’t expect him to like the idea, but I hadn’t banked on him being quite so angry at my decision.

  ‘That man – that beautiful, kind, handsome man saved you from yourself, and you’re walking away from him? For the best friend of the man who raped you?’

  ‘He stopped having anything to do with Simon the second he knew what he’d done.’

  ‘And you should have stopped having anything to do with him the day you walked away from that life. But instead you kept on seeing him, kept on fuelling this fire until he…’

  ‘It wasn’t that simple, Joe
y.’

  ‘You should have walked away, Kira…’

  ‘I was pregnant.’

  He can’t hide his shock at what I’ve just blurted out. And I don’t know whether I should have said anything at all, considering this is yet another massive secret I chose to hide from my best friend for all these years, but it’s something I’ve had to live with for a long time now. Something I’ve never been able to share with anyone, because it represented such a shift in circumstances for me, and Jon. It changed everything. And we just let it. And we’ve never talked about it, with each other, with anyone. Not since it happened, and yet, it’s something we need to talk about, because I don’t think we can ignore it any longer now. We’ve ignored it for long enough. All those secret, sordid afternoons he’d come to see me, pay to be with me, and we never talked about it. We just carried on like it had never happened. Like it wasn’t the reason; the catalyst for everything that’s happened since. But now that I’ve said the words out loud, after all these years, it’s kind of opened that door I need to walk through. It’s made it all real again. I think opening this Pandora’s Box… I think this is necessary.