Obsession

by Dee Dawning

  New Dawning International Bookfair

  presents

  An Romantic Erotic Thriller

  By

  Dee Dawning

  Copyright © 2007

  ~OBSESSION~

  Previously released as LEGS & Vegas Sex Slave Harem

  Authors Note

  Obsession is a work of fiction. Though the sex slave trade, run by craven, unscrupulous men and women, thrives worldwide and continues to be a blight on world humanity, I personally know of no situations like the ones portrayed in this book, in Las Vegas, my once home city

  Chapter One

  A large panel truck pulled in front of him and boxed him in. Drew jerked his head around, trying to see. Where's that damned red Mustang convertible? He had to do something quickly or he was going to lose her. Impulsively, he switched lanes and an angry horn blared as he inadvertently cut off another car. The offended driver pulled up close behind, riding his bumper. Gazing into the review mirror, he recognized the old middle finger salute and waved back to indicate his apology. With hurt feelings assuaged, the guy backed off.

  He smiled. There she is. Hanging back three cars, she hung a left on La Cienega Blvd, then a right on Sunset Blvd, tracing the now familiar course. He relaxed when he realized she was likely heading to JoJo's for the fourth Friday in a row.

  Sure enough, she pulled into JoJo's valet lot. Mallory, baby! What do you see in this dump? You have way too much class for this pick up joint. Finding an empty space on the street across from JoJo's, he nudged into it.

  A wide-eyed valet watched her get out of the car. He handed her a ticket and gave her an up and down glance. Then he watched her graceful swaying gait as she sauntered the fifty or so feet to the entrance with obvious admiration. When she entered the club, the valet, shook his head, jumped into her Mustang and peeled out.

  Drew needed to go in, to meet her once and for all, to talk with her, get to know her as a person. Drew Stevens knew he had to enter her life in order to decide how best to handle his distasteful assignment. He knew whatever he did, there was going to be problems—big problems.

  It began to drizzle. He jumped out of his Nissan Xterra and ran partway across the street, pausing at the center turn lane until traffic cleared. Then he dashed the rest of the way across Sunset and into JoJo's.

  Located in West Hollywood, JoJo's had a film industry motif. Movie memorabilia adorned every vacant spot. Because of its proximity to both the motion picture world of Hollywood and the business world of Los Angeles, the clientele was an odd mixture of business types and performers, or in most cases, wannabe performers.

  As expected, Friday at JoJo's was a madhouse. Drew spied Mallory beating a path through the buzzards toward the rear bar. He edged over to the front bar where he could best keep an eye on her. Squeezing between two customers, he stood with his back to the bar in order to watch his fine-looking mark. As anticipated, she joined her friend Paige.

  Admiring his quarry, his mind wandered. She was so extraordinarily beautiful. Tall and lithe with cascading blonde curls, mesmerizing blue eyes, angelic face and fantastic legs. Ahh, those legs. They excited him. Sitting on her stool, her wondrous legs crossed, she turned and gazed across the room. A chill went through him when, for a fleeting moment, their eyes met, followedby imaginary creatures padding up and down his spine.

  The bartender wrenched Drew out of his reverie. "What'll you have, Buddy?"

  He looked over his shoulder. "I'll take a Seven-Up."

  "One Seven-Up coming up."

  Drew returned to his thoughts How can I do what I must? Can I get out of it? No, that won't work, someone else will be sent. I must get close to her somehow, and protect her from the Prince.

  ~* *~

  The lounge portion of JoJo's had three bars—one to the left of the entrance, a service bar near the restaurant and the main bar, her friend Paige liked the bar, in the rear. For girls, it was good because it was near the ladies room, but the down side was you had to pass through a multitude of bawdy drunks on the make to get to it.

  "Damn-it! Let go of me, you…and don't touch me again…Creep!" Mallory extricated herself from the grabby hands of yet another rude, drunken God's gift to women. Exactly, what is the attraction of this place? Mallory half thought, half mumbled.

  She wove her way through the masses of semi-intoxicated, on the make, male customers, perpetually searching for free hor' douvres, half price Happy Hour drinks and if they got lucky, a one night stand. Well, I'm nobody's one night stand!

  "Hey gorgeous, have I—"

  "Never."

  "Baby, where ha—"

  "Hiding from you," she said jerking her hand back. For four consecutive Fridays, Mallory's friend of nearly twenty years, Paige Dillon, had begged her to meet for a drink at JoJo's Bar and Grill. Having grown up together in Glendale, California, it was hard to say no.

  "God you're beautiful, you wanna f –"

  "In your dreams, lover boy." If Paige kept insisting on dragging her down there every Friday, she might have to reconsider the friendship.

  Paige sat at her usual seat at the bar, dressed in her tight-fitting Calvin Klein jeans and low cut rust-colored sweater. She had positioned her leather purse on the next stool, her way of saving it for her friend.

  Mallory was used to the routine. Smiling, she handed the nutmeg dyed Prada handbag back to Paige and sat down. "I must be losing my touch. I was only accosted a couple hundred times on the way over here, that's down from three hundred last week," Mallory said with disgust.

  "Yes, the crowd is quite mellow tonight. Two hundred? I feel slighted. I only had a hundred propositions. I did have the pleasure of getting felt up though."

  "That's what you get for being built like Dolly Parton. Men love big boobs and well defined asses."

  "Gee, I guess I really screwed up when I put in my order. I should've asked to be elegant and long legged like you." Paige sometimes seemed envious of Mallory's glamorous appearance.

  "You know, Paige, I've been meaning to ask you. Why do you insist on coming here when you know we both get mentally gang banged on the way from the entrance to the bar?"

  "It's where Robbie likes to meet. Don't worry, I'm thinking of leaving him, and if I do, it'll be just you and me and we'll go somewhere else."

  "Really, what's the matter?"

  "Nothing in particular, it's just not going the way I'd hoped. Anyway, he should be here in another ten minutes, then all the losers will lay off. Until then, we can look at the positive side of getting propositioned and felt up by the goon squad."

  The lady bartender slid over unnoticed and placed a napkin down in front of Mallory.

  "You mean there's an upside to getting sexually mugged?"

  "Heck yes. Look at it this way. The first time you hear one of those inane pickup lines, you might think it's clever, even funny. If a cute guy happened to be attached to it, you might be tempted to hook up and be out the door with him. However, having heard them all, we're now immune."

  Mallory rolled her eyes. She turned her head and noticed Kelsey.

  "What'll you have, Mallory?"

  "Oh. Hi Kelsey. Don't you look lovely tonight. I guess I'll have the usual."

  "Thank you. You look lovely, too, as usual. One Strawberry Daiquiri coming up. How about you, Paige?"

  "I'm good, thanks."

  Mallory scrunched her nose in disgust. "I was mostly immune anyway and the filthy lines never had a chance. Did you know there are guys who actually say things like, Congratulations! You've been voted - Most Beautiful Girl in this room - and the grand prize is a night in bed with me!"

  Paige laughed. "Here's one I heard earlier, If I told you that you have a great body, would you hold it against me?"

  "Yes, that's an old one. You, with th
e bountiful body, would get a line like that. Me, I have to settle for, Excuse me Miss, can I buy you a mink?"

  Paige laughed. "Don't tell me someone actually offered to buy you a mink?"

  "Yes, I'm sure if I said okay, he'd probably come up with a mink glove at his house or some other way around it. You know, the lines that really offend me are the ones about oral sex, like, I want to melt in your mouth, not in your hand."

  Paige cringed. "Ugggh! Some people have no class!"

  "Yeah, well, classless people are a fact of life," the bartender chimed in, setting Mallory's drink in front of her. "My former boyfriend used to say, 'like it or not, if you're good looking and have a pussy you're a sex object, so get used to it and go with the flow.' Do you really have a problem with oral sex or is it assholes?"

  Mallory raised her eyes. "Not even. I love it. It's just that it's so personal, so intimate. I mean, think about it. A man has his face buried in your privates." Hmm. It's so sexy, thinking about it makes me wet. "Too intimate to be performed by, or on a total stran—"

  "There you are," Paige said excitedly to Robbie. "What took you so long?"

  Mallory turned her head, Paige's boyfriend ambled up in his usual white tee shirt, slim-fit stone washed Levis and Nikes. Roberto, 5'10", maybe one-eighty, had those classic Latin good looks, but more brooding than Ricky Martin.

  "You know the usual suspects. Finished late, traffic snarls, get gas." To Paige, Robbie gave a passionate deep throat kiss and hug. Mallory received a perfunctory, hug and cheek peck. "What's doing, ladies?"

  "Doin'?" Mallory responded. "We're thinking of doin' some of the disgusting Don Juan's with their offensive lines. What's to keep me from melting into the arms of some Romeo who says, I think I could fall madly in bed with you."

  Robbie responded. "Hey, I hadn't heard that one. How about, If I had a nickel for every girl as beautiful as you, I'd have a nickel. But the one I really like is, I'd like to name an orgasm after you."

  "Yuck!" Mallory punched Paige lightly. "You let him kiss you with that mouth?"

  Paige giggled and hugged her boyfriend. "Don't mind her, Robbie. We've been discussing some of the off color lines we hear from the skirt chasers in here, and Mallory's doing a slow burn. Besides she has a thing about oral sex."

  "I do not. I just told—"

  Robbie, who knew everything. "She probably subconsciously wants to have oral sex with a stranger. Anyway, I can't fault this rowdy bunch for moving on you two. You girls are, without a doubt, the best thing going in JoJo's right now and you're both mine. Why don't we go into the restaurant and grab some grub?"

  JoJo's Bar and Grill, was a large club divided into two halves—cocktail lounge and restaurant. The food was good and the drinks were generous.

  Robbie, aka, Roberto Hernandez, Paige's main squeeze was a disc jockey on a Spanish language radio station. He and Paige had become an item about six months earlier. After Paige sold him a house, she became not only his realtor, but also his live-in house companion.

  Mallory didn't like Roberto much—she refused to call him Robbie. Paige was faithful to him, but she suspected it was one way. She figured his philandering would catch up with him eventually. All she had to do was bide her time. Though he'd never put a move on her, Mallory suspected her friendship with Paige was the only thing holding him back. "You guys go ahead. I'm going to finish my drink and head for home."

  Shortly after Robbie and Page left, a short, overweight, balding man, donning a garish sport coat that resembled squashed caterpillars, staggered toward Mallory. Spotting potential trouble afoot, she quickly grabbed her purse and slid off her stool, prepared to make a hasty exit—too late.

  "Hi, I'm Cly-de and I been-n washing you. Kin-n-n I buy you a…oops s-sorry!"

  The man was soused. He stumbled forward, and pushed Mallory back onto the stool. The stool slid out from under her and they both crashed to the floor. His half-full martini glass rested on one of Mallory's breasts, the contents spilling forth while his face burrowed into her other breast. All eyes focused on the loud commotion and the room became so quiet, she could hear a pin drop.

  Trapped under the weight of the drunken man, Mallory yelled. "Get off of me, you creep."

  The weight lifted off her,

  A distinctive male voice said, "I think you've worn out your welcome, buddy."

  Mallory looked up and saw the most beautiful man she'd ever seen lifting the drunk up on the tips of his toes, ready to propel him across the room in a less than friendly manner. Mortified, with the heat of a blush burning in her cheeks, Mallory quickly tugged her skimpy skirt back down over her thighs, covering her exposed pink panties.

  "Are you all right ma'am?" Smiling, the man reached a hand down to help her up.

  Mallory was a little embarrassed and a lot in awe. She accepted his strong masculine hand. On her feet, straightening her clothing, she noticed a large wet spot. She smiled shyly at the hunk, then turned to the girl on the next stool. "Would you save my spot while I go to the Ladies Room?" At a nod, she slipped past her rescuer.

  Chapter Two

  After seven or eight minutes in the restroom combing her hair and reapplying makeup, Mallory returned. She hoped the sexy man was still there and now occupying Paige's seat, he was. He hadn't noticed her return and she studied his appearance in the back-bar mirror. His dark wavy hair enhanced his full oval face with high cheekbones and a strong jaw. His dark and mysterious eyes and his classic Roman nose made Mallory think of a god. She could also tell his shoulders filled the cut in his tan sport coat nicely. She loved what she saw and decided to stick around.

  Slowly taking her seat, she continued to study him. He seemed to be engrossed in a basketball game on the TV behind the heavily neon-lit bar. He looked familiar. Then Mallory realized the man she had briefly locked eyes with from across the room earlier, had come to her rescue and was now sitting next to her. Mallory put her hand on his arm, "Excuse me."

  His eyes sparkled. "Hi. You're still here. I thought you might have left. Are you all right?"

  "Yes. I want to thank you for helping me. That was kind of you."

  "My card."

  He smiled. He had a fabulous smile, warm brown eyes with a glint of mischief, white teeth, along with perfect olive skin and a cleft chin. Expecting it to be the business card of a successful lawyer or doctor from nearby Beverly Hills, she gave him her most engaging smile and accepted the offering. Tearing her eyes away from his dreamy face, she read bold letters printed across the center. Mallory's jaw dropped.

  If you love cunnilingus,

  Smile!

  Mallory started to laugh, but caught herself. Embarrassed, she felt flushed and thought she might faint. She started to take a drink, but the alcohol made things worse. She wanted some water and tried to get the bartender's attention. She grew pale and felt a cold sweat, then clammy all over, but the thing that bothered her the most, the thing which really upset her, was that while her first inclination was to tell him, No thanks, buster, her pussy said, Yes! Please, yes, yes. Her pussy pulsed, her clit throbbed and blood rushed to both and fluid seeped from her vagina, soaking her panties. Yes, yes, please, I want his lips to kiss me! While the image of that gorgeous man's face buried between her legs burned itself into her mind.

  "Would you like a sip of my Seven-Up," he asked innocently.

  She took his full drink and downed it greedily.

  "Bartender, another Seven-Up and one for the lady," he said.

  "Her name is Kelsey," Mallory managed to squeak out.

  "Kelsey, two more Seven-Ups, please."

  "Two Seven-Ups, coming up." Kelsey replied.

  When he looked back toward Mallory, Kelsey nodded her approval to Mallory. After she brought the order, she flashed Mallory a thumbs up.

  Mallory smiled, but quickly downed her Seven-Up.

  "My name is Drew by the way."

  Feeling uncomfortable for her extreme reaction to his little joke, Mallory took his offered hand. "My name is
Mallory."

  "Yes, I know."

  "Oh?"

  "Sure, who doesn't know? You're Mallory Robbins, an up and coming movie star, super model and one of LA's most beautiful people." He paused to take a sip of his drink, "The woman with the most beautifully shaped legs in the world. So beautiful, they're photographed even more than your stunning face. So beautiful, your agency has recently insured your legs for ten million dollars. That's why tabloids call you Legs."

  Almost recovered from her initial reaction, Mallory said, "I'm afraid you have the advantage over me. How do you know so much about me?"

  "Actually, I believe I have two advantages over you." He flashed a mischievous smile. "First, I know all about you, and second, you smiled. Where would you like to do it?"

  Mallory's eyes widened. "You can't be serious? I smiled because of the humor of the card, not because I want you to…you know."

  "Are you sure? You're saying no, but your body language is giving off a completely different vibe."

  She leaned toward him and spoke softly, "Really. And just what is my body saying to you Drew?" God, why did I ask that?

  He kept his voice low, "Look how you're squirming in your seat and how fidgety your hands are. There's hunger in those baby blues, your nipples just got hard, and you're forcing yourself to keep your knees tightly together. You want to spread your legs and watch me bury my face between them, don't you?"