Dangerous Obsessions

by Capri Montgomery

  “I just love what I do. And I’d like to do it some place where it feels like…I don’t know.”

  “Home?” He was sure she was searching for an environment that didn’t feel like the one she had spent the years since Amy’s death living in with her father…until he put her out of the house she had been near hell. Emotionally maybe it was hell.

  “Yeah, I guess. I know that sounds crazy. It’s just work, but I don’t like unhappy environments. I know that’s idealistic, but I spent too much time feeling the unwelcome environment with my dad and I don’t want to live like that again. It’s why I went to a smaller gym in the first place. Kevin couldn’t afford me, but we got close in pay. I took it because back then the place was like family—and not a dysfunctional one.”

  “And now that’s changed?”

  “Yeah. People are so unhappy. It’s not just Shel and Hank asking me to take them with me; it’s everybody. I hear trainers complaining all the time, and some of them have even started doing the one thing you should never do—they’re complaining to their clients. I think a few people are planning to do private training and they’re trying to let their clients know now that they’re leaving.”

  “Kevin’s going to lose a lot of employees.”

  “Yes, he is. But I think that’s what the corporate guys want. They want to bring in their own trainers. They want younger, fresher, more muscle bound for the men and slender for the ladies. Killian, one of the new owners, told me I would fit because of my trim body, but he wants me to cut my hair into a buzz cut.”

  “Hell no,” he jumped in quick. He liked her hair. Feeling it on his body at night was one of the things that stoked his fire. He liked it better curly than straight, but he sure as hell wouldn’t have liked it that short on her.

  “Yeah, that’s what I said. Exact words actually.” She laughed. “Hank and a few of the other guys would fit because they have the body, but a couple of them are getting older…forty, if you can imagine the crime in that, and Killian would prefer the twenty-something crowd.”

  “That’s age discrimination.”

  “Only if you get caught,” she said. “I think they’re trying to make everybody miserable so they’ll quit instead of being fired. Hard to sue when you left willingly. And none of the changes they’re making are against the law, or blatantly obvious as age discrimination.”

  He nodded. He understood what she was saying. Nobody had any solid proof of what corporate was doing, yet they still knew what was happening. Those who saw the door in their near future were trying to make plans for going elsewhere. Those who knew they’d be kept on were either elated, or worried they’d get stuck in a new work environment that they didn’t like.

  “You’re good enough to branch out on your own, so go for it.”

  She turned her head upward so she could look in his eyes. A bright smile spread across her lips. “Thank you.” She kissed him, and as usual, one kiss turned into something more.

  The sun had started to rise; the faint breeze coming through the open window smelled like Evergreens. The wind made the translucent curtains blow inward. The peppermint taste to her mouth and the hint of red and golden tones coming from the sunrise illuminating her skin turned him on. He couldn’t hold out, couldn’t resist touching her, feeling her.

  He gathered the bottom of her shirt in his hands and she raised her arms. He didn’t’ have time for buttons, and since the shirt was about five sizes too big for her anyway it was easy to just pull it over her head.

  “Christ,” he moaned. “You’re naked as a jay bird.”

  She laughed. “Well you did take my shirt off.”

  She hadn’t been sleeping in panties. God, if he had known that last night there’s no way he would have been able to stop himself from finding a nice home between her legs.

  “I had to hand wash my undies; no clothes remember,” she smoothed her hands over his already bare chest. “Now, less talking, more kissing.” She leaned in and kissed him once again and this time he responded with fervor.

  He felt her slipping her hand inside his sweat pants and fondling his erection. He moaned, contented, but needing more, and she gave it to him. “Clair,” he felt a violent tremble rake his body as her hand continued its ministration. “You don’t stop doing that I’m going to come in your hands.

  She smiled so wickedly he knew she was deliberately drawing out his climax. “I don’t mind. I believe I came on your hand the other day.” She eased his penis out of his pants and touched her fill.

  “Jesus, you’re making me pay for the movie theater incident aren’t you?”

  “You mean the movie theater orgasm that you conducted? Now why would I do such a thing?” She leaned in and slid the tip of her tongue up the side of his neck before nipping his ear with her teeth.

  He felt every nerve ending flare. Good Lord he was so close. With each squeeze of her hand and slip of her tongue he felt his body bucking, trying to get closer to her, needing to get inside her.

  She laughed. “It would be fun to play with you a little longer, but…” she leaned back and looked in his eyes. By God if she was going to say she needed to have breakfast, workout, shower, do anything except what they were doing he’d probably die from frustration. She grinned again. This grin was as wickedly arousing as the last. “I’d like for you to come with me, not without me.”

  He wanted that too. God, did he want that too.

  She raised just a little, positioned herself in the optimal position to take him in and then she sank down on his shaft, taking him all the way in. The silky heat of her made him buck upward.

  “Clair,” he groaned as his hands clasped her waist. “Oh, baby don’t stop,” he moaned.

  She didn’t show any signs of stopping. Instead she raised up just a little more and then sank back down. She rode him slow at first and then her movements became faster, harder. Her small breasts moved in front of his face and he leaned forward to suck one of them. The action pushed him deeper inside her and made her increase her riding speed. She was panting loud, and he was groaning with deep satisfaction. They were probably waking the neighbors with all the, “oh God yes,” screams coming off them, but the hell if he cared.

  He squeezed her waist in his hands, pushed up into her one more time and he came. She kept riding him hard. He found the strength to slip his finger over her clit and press hard, and then she came with a loud yell of his name, a few “oh God” yells later and then she collapsed on top of him. Her head resting on his shoulder, her breath warm and minty against his neck.

  “Oh God, Greg,” her fingers clutched his shoulder, her sex tightened around him and he felt her come again.

  Wet drops fell on his shoulder. “Are you crying baby?”

  “You just feel so good,” she said. “This just feels so good.”

  He smiled wide. She had given him the best he’d had in…probably ever, and knowing he’d given her just as much pleasure, double the pleasure actually, was a sense of male pride he hung on to. He wasn’t archaic, but this was his woman and he had just helped make his woman fully satisfied this morning.

  He stroked his hand down her spine to her buttocks where he smoothed his big, calloused hand over her round curves. Now this was something he could get use to every morning. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight against his body.

  Janet clutched the steering wheel tight. They hadn’t showed up at the gym. She had gotten there early and that twerp at the front desk told her they’d cancelled Clair’s classes last night. Well hell, they could have told her. Why would Greg tell her to meet them at the gym if classes were cancelled?

  She was angry, pissed actually, and she drove to his house. That’s when she saw the whore sitting naked on his lap and fondling his penis. That slut had probably planned it all. She wanted to make sure she’d be alone with Greg that morning and the only way she could do it was to tell him she had to go to work. Janet figured Clair had made up some excuse for not going. She had obviously dist
racted him or Greg would have called her. Now, she was seducing him to astronomical proportions, and he, he was just a man. She bet it felt good having his dick stroked and he just couldn’t help himself.

  She watched that little fluffer fuck her man, saw his orgasm and hers. This had to stop; it had to stop now. Clair was ruining everything. All of her plans, all of her years of hard work, and Clair was ruining it.

  Janet turned into her driveway and pulled into the garage. “Now what, Janet? Now what are you going to do?” She knew what she needed to do. She needed to get rid of Clair. Once Clair was out of the picture then she and Greg could be together again.

  What she needed now was a plan. She couldn’t wait to find Levins; she would have to do it herself. But she would have to make it look as if Levins did it. If they didn’t think Levins did it then they’d investigate and she’d have to constantly worry that Greg would find out.

  First, she needed to review the case files. She would recreate the crime as closely to Levins’ murder of Amy McPhee as possible. Then, she would have to find Levins and kill him. She still needed to be the hero in the story. She needed Greg to want to thank her, to want to be with her the way she wanted to be with him.

  “First things first,” she told herself. “Get your ass cleaned up, pulled together and into work.” Once she did that she’d go do a little research—covertly. She couldn’t have anybody knowing that she was looking at the information on the old case. If somebody knew, and if she didn’t have a chance to kill Levins before he got caught then they might put two and two together and then she’d be screwed…and not in the way she wanted to be screwed either. She’d be screwed with her pants on, and Greg would definitely not be the one doing it to her. He would be so pissed off he’d probably never speak to her again.

  Clair was turning him against her. That’s all she could see. In her cloud of rage and fear she saw Greg going over to Clair’s side and if he got too far there would be no getting him back.

  She would have to act fast; her plan would only work if Levins was free when she killed Clair. If they caught Levins first then she’d have to think of a new plan and she didn’t want to wait around for the perfect setup to come to mind. She wanted to go with her plan A so she could get her life with Greg back in order as soon as possible. He still loved her; she knew he did.

  Chapter Twelve

  Clair showered, sans extra shadow, and then joined Greg in the kitchen for breakfast. He was cooking something that smelled good, but she would have preferred a light, no-fuss meal. “What is that?”

  “Turkey bacon,” he looked at her. “It’s low fat.”

  “Hey! Are you saying I need to lose weight?”

  “No. God no. You know I’m not.”

  “It sounded like you were,” she tried to hold on to her angry face, but the look on his face was quickly breaking her resolve.

  “Oh, you are so yanking my chain.”

  “I’d rather be yanking something else,” she winked. “I don’t normally eat anything that heavy this early. I’m more of a fruit and bread person in the morning and then, what little meat I do eat, usually comes later in the morning when my stomach has had a chance to wake up.”

  “Your stomach? Waking up? What?” He looked puzzled.

  She laughed. “I guess you never knew this about me because you weren’t really around when I first woke up. Even after Levins…” she shook the thought from her head. “Anyway, my tummy wakes up at a different time than I do. It’s generally like four hours later. I can’t get too many foods down until it wakes up.”

  “Oh,” he grinned. “So I guess there’s no need to offer to make you pancakes then.”

  “Maybe later. I’ll take a piece of your turkey bacon and a slice of dry toast…no, maybe toast with jam. Do you still stockpile strawberry?”

  He laughed. “I never stockpiled strawberry jam.”

  “Yes you did. I remember you use to have like four jars in the cabinet.”

  He laughed. “That’s because I knew you liked it. I would be in the store thinking, Clair might come over today, and then I’d think I didn’t have any strawberry jam, so I’d buy a jar. You liked jam on your biscuits, on your toast, on your eggs.” He said the word eggs as if jam on eggs was highly unnatural.

  She laughed. “Yeah, I don’t really do that anymore, but it use to make them taste better.” She laughed again. “I can’t believe you couldn’t remember whether or not you bought strawberry jam.”

  “Yeah, pretty bad for a fed; I know. But jam wasn’t exactly something I left on the top of my mental priority list.”

  “Okay, so no jam. I’ll take the toast dry then.”

  He shook his head. “You eat like a bird.”

  “My mom use to say that. But really, I don’t. I just eat small portions most of the day. By mid afternoon I’m not hungry, but I still try to have a nice, proportionate, dinner.”

  He nodded. “Speaking of dinner; I need to go get some food.”

  “I need to go get some clothes. Which do you want to do first?”

  “Still insisting on wearing clothes?” He winked.

  “I tell you what. You walk around naked and I’ll walk around naked.” She saw the devious twinkle in his eyes. Good Lord, she’d said the words not thinking he’d call her bluff, but he just might.

  “I’ll have to remember that.”

  “Oh God; you’re going to hold me to that aren’t you?”

  “Yep,” he grinned again. “Let’s get your clothes first and then we’ll pick up dinner food.”

  “Okay. I’ll cook you dinner...”

  “I should cook you dinner,” he interrupted her before she could finish.

  “I was going to say, I’ll cook you dinner and you can grill something. You do still have the grill; don’t you?”

  “Oh yeah.” He grinned with pride. “It’s been upgraded too. I love that grill.”

  “I bet you do. How about you grill chicken, and I make pasta with spinach and a white cream sauce?”

  “Hmm…” he nearly purred. “Would that be the same meal you made a few nights ago?”

  “Yes,” she smiled. “I love pasta, but you know it’s a twice a week thing for me if I do it with a cream sauce. Heavy whipping cream is practically all fat you know? But it is so good.”

  “Like you have to worry.”

  “I don’t worry, but I do try to keep things in moderation. I can’t eat pasta with a side of fat everyday. That’s just not healthy. I have to mix it up. Pasta with red sauce, pasta with white sauce, a little veggie meal, a little more pasta.” She laughed. “I like pasta.”

  “I can see that.” He laughed just as hardily as she had.

  “Oh, damn,” he blew out an exasperated breath.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I forgot to call Janet. I forgot to let her know we wouldn’t be at the gym.”

  Clair looked at the clock. It was after seven now, so she was sure Janet had long since learned that they weren’t there. “Do you want me to call her?”

  “No. I messed up. Plus I snapped at her this morning. I’d better fix it.”

  “Good man,” she nodded and handed him the cordless phone.

  “Thanks.” He called Janet, explained that he’d forgotten to call to let her know Clair decided to stay home and sleep. Yes, he’d said home. This wasn’t her home, but he’d made it feel like she was at home. Maybe on some level it was like her home. She use to spend a lot of time there in that house. In some respects it almost felt as if she’d never left; in others, the time distance between visits was clearly recognizable. “Yeah, I just got busy,” he winked at her. “And I forgot to call.”

  She nearly laughed. Yeah, they were busy all right. Thinking about what they were doing was making her want to do it all over again. She crossed her legs to ease the sensations suddenly flowing between them.

  The grin on his face told her he knew exactly what she was thinking. It was almost as if he was silently promising her they’d
get to it. Well if they did get to it again today it would have to wait until after their errands. She needed clothes; he needed food, and they had a lunatic on the loose. Greg would need to check in and get brought up to speed on what the investigation from last night’s break-in had revealed. She heard one of the cops say they would look for blood on the shredded pieces from her home. There was something said about the guy maybe cutting himself during the rampage. That much damage and she was sure he would have…unless he was walking around with a machete, and then all bets were off.

  Before he disconnected the call she heard him say they’d be okay around there on their own and that there was no need for Janet to “swing” by.

  “You don’t want company?”

  “Not today…and before you get any harebrained ideas you are not company.” He slid a plate of food in font of her, walked around the counter and kissed her lips before sitting down on the stool next to her. She would have asked him what was she if she weren’t company, but she had an idea where the conversation would go. He would say he loved her again; he had already said it before. Greg wasn’t protecting her out of forced duty. In fact, he had even taken personal leave to keep her safe.

  Levins had never been his case, yet he was there every step of the way. Every hour of everyday he had kept himself available for her if she needed him. That was then, and this was now and now he was still stepping out of his role, not thinking once about his career, to help her. He could have been working another case, working one of his already heavy case loads. She was sure his load was heavy because Greg always seemed to take on work as if there wouldn’t be any tomorrow. He was dedicated. She was sure that dedication is what got him promoted. No, their relationship had moved past the almost sisterly protective feelings he had had for her. They had moved past “just” friends and were rapidly speeding toward something else—and she wanted it.