I Spy a Dark Obsession

by Jo Davis

  “I never knew you cared about me.” He sounded pleased about that idea.

  “You miss a lot of signals from those around you,” she said, thinking not only of herself, but also of Bastian. “Or you ignore them.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Yes.”

  As they reached the end of the building, he pulled her around the corner and down the alley a fair distance from prying eyes. Pushing against her, he backed her into the brick wall, placing his palms on either side of her head. He leaned close, his lips almost touching hers.

  “Tell me, Katrina . . . am I getting the signal scrambled now?” His eyes were dark pools, his body hot as he pressed close. “Do I need to back off?”

  Oh, God. How she’d wanted this. But what about Bastian? “No, but—”

  “That’s a yes or no question.”

  Her nipples tingled and her pussy warmed. “Your men—”

  “Won’t say a word. Yes or no?” Lightly, he brushed her lips with his.

  “What was the question?” She was only half kidding. The man made her insane, all common sense drowned in a flood of desire. But he was serious, waiting for an answer. “There’s nothing wrong with your powers of deduction, but if you need me to be perfectly clear—kiss me, dammit, before I die from the wait.”

  He dove in, lips capturing hers hungrily, tongue delving inside. She moaned and leaned into the kiss, reveling in his taste, thinking, At last. Every sensitive part of her cried out for his touch, his taste. Sinking into him was like coming home.

  Before she could dwell on that feeling too much, rough fingers plucked at her nipples through the thin fabric of her blouse and the bra underneath. Hitching the edge of the material, she took his wrist and moved his hand underneath, placed it on her stomach, nudged it upward. Taking the hint, he cupped one breast, rubbed his thumb over the taut nub through the silk. Then he deftly flicked the front clasp and spilled her into his questing hand.

  Arching into him, she marveled at how good it felt to be bared to him. How much better if there was no clothing at all to get in the way. Breaking the kiss, he bent and nuzzled her hair, whispering into her ear.

  “Jesus, you’re so soft. Are you silky all over?” His palm skimmed downward. “Are you smooth, perhaps hot and wet?” His journey paused at the button of her pants.

  “Why don’t you find out?” She could barely keep from panting as he undid the fastening, parted the material.

  His hand slid over her mound, through the small rectangle of curls to her folds, and he practically rumbled in pleasure. “Mmm. Totally bare except for this little soul patch right here. Damn, I wish I had you in my bed right now.”

  “We could go,” she suggested breathlessly, spreading her legs in contradiction of her words. Opening herself.

  “But do you really want to stop right now?”

  “No! Please, I need . . .”

  His low, sexy laugh curled through her blood, but it was his skilled touch that set it to boiling. Unhurried fingers rubbed her slit, dipped between the folds to discover the moisture there. Evidence of her rising desire. They spread the dewy wetness to her clit and lingered, stroking and teasing the little bud, sending tiny shock waves of delight to her limbs. Then two fingers entered her channel, fucked her slowly. Filling her—but not enough.

  “You need more, sweetheart?” His smug tone hinted that he already knew the answer.

  “Yes, please.” She squirmed, arching into his hand.

  “I want to taste you first. Okay?”

  She nodded, belatedly realizing he might not be able to see her gesture in the darkness. And he’d asked for her permission every step of the way, something she appreciated.

  “God, yes.”

  Kneeling, he took down her pants and lacy underwear, helped her out of them, leaving her wearing nothing from the waist down but her black heels. “Beautiful,” he murmured, kissing her mound. “All mine. I’ll bet the men who are watching us are jealous as hell.” His tongue flicked her clit. “Does that turn you on?”

  Did he mean turned on by having sex in public, knowing his men were playing voyeur, or by his glorious mouth? Yes to both, she decided, but her response was lost in a moan of pleasure as his fingers spread her and he began to bathe her slit. He licked her juices as though he’d found a tasty treat, swirling and flicking, the light touch driving her insane.

  More. Threading her fingers through his sable hair, she urged him to take more. Deeper. Taking the hint, he tongue-fucked her until she nearly melted into the brick wall holding her up—and almost died of sheer bliss when he latched on to her clit and suckled it without mercy.

  “Oh! Michael!”

  He took her expertly to the edge and then stopped, released her, and pushed to his feet. Cruel man. She made an unintelligible noise of protest, but he just gave a low laugh, turning her to face the wall.

  “Spread your legs and brace yourself, beautiful.” She did, and a finger trailed down her spine, causing her to shiver. “I’m going to fuck you from behind, hard and deep. Unless you want me to stop?”

  “Don’t you dare!”

  “That’s my girl.”

  How she wished. One steamy encounter didn’t mean he belonged to her, and there was his best friend to consider, but she’d contemplate the consequences later. At the moment she couldn’t think straight with him behind her, rustling around, obviously getting ready. A telltale crinkle of foil reached her ears, and then he guided the blunt head of his cock to her pussy. Pressed inside, stretching, filling her to the limit. She gasped, thinking she felt him all the way to her toes, owning every part of her.

  Slowly, he buried himself balls-deep and held there for a few seconds. She savored the connection, his cock finally where she’d wanted it to be for God knew how long. His body covering hers, he began to thrust in long, tight movements.

  “You’re holding back,” she said, tilting her hips out to meet him.

  “Don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You won’t. Give it to me hard.”

  His voice betrayed his surprise. “Like it a little rough, huh? Never knew you were such a dirty girl under that poised exterior.”

  “You know it now. Do it.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I like to play rough sometimes, too. Maybe sometime I’ll show you my special toys.”

  And she’d imagined him self-contained when it came to sex! But she couldn’t answer because he complied in spades, withdrawing almost completely—then ramming home so forcefully she had to spread her hands wider and grip the brick wall to remain steady. Groaning at the delicious assault, she could only hang on for the wild ride as he gave her what she’d asked for.

  So fine, his rod pistoning in and out with abandon. Fucking her the way she loved, with the power few lovers would exert over her, no matter how she begged them.

  Sometimes a woman needed tender lovemaking, hearts, and roses. And sometimes she needed darkness and lightning, a storm to wash away the loneliness and longing, to make things new. He gave her that and more, flesh slapping in tempo as he claimed what she offered, made it his. She wished she could turn and see him, run her palms over his muscles, cup his ass as it flexed while he drove into her. Maybe next time. A girl can hope.

  The familiar tingle in her sex became a spark. Flared and caught fire, unraveling her control. Her orgasm hit hard and she cried out, distantly aware that his agents probably heard. She couldn’t care less. The feeling of him riding her through the pulsing waves was too incredible. Suddenly he stiffened and gave one last plunge, cock jerking inside her as he was overcome by his own release.

  She wasn’t sure how long they stayed locked together, his hot breath wafting against her neck. But after a bit, his softened cock slipped from her and he moved away. Pushing from the wall, she turned and saw him disposing of the condom. She averted her eyes, wondering why the sight should bother her after what they’d done. Somehow his cleaning himself in front of her seemed more intimate than the act itself.

 
Scanning the area for her clothes, she found them carefully draped over a nearby crate rather than tossed on the filthy ground as she’d assumed. His thoughtfulness warmed her, but the awkward silence that fell between them stilled her tongue. Now came the doubts and recriminations. The utter stupidity of fucking her boss notwithstanding, she could not possibly have let herself become hung up on a more unattainable man.

  Men, she mentally corrected. Because she wanted this with Bastian, too.

  As for Michael, he’d been mourning his dead wife for months, and was just starting to come out the other side. Or so it appeared. She suspected the truth wasn’t that simple and likely played a large part in his withdrawal now. What other factors came into play, she didn’t know him well enough on a personal level to say. And it depressed her to realize that dynamic might not change any time soon.

  She pulled on her underwear and pants while Michael tucked himself away and waited. Determined to dispel the unease, she walked to him and cupped his cheek. Brushed her lips against his in a feathery kiss. “Thank you.”

  He blinked in the darkness. “Katrina . . . Don’t thank me. I was selfish, and it never should’ve happened.”

  Here we go.

  “Because you’re my boss? I’m a grown woman and you didn’t take advantage of me,” she pointed out. “Quite the opposite, in fact, so you don’t need to be concerned that I’ll cry foul.”

  “That’s not the only reason.” Taking her arm, he gently steered her in the direction they’d come.

  “Dietz?”

  He sighed. “What the hell was I thinking? If he believes I care about you, it could put you in danger. Christ, I’m an idiot.”

  “And do you care about me?” she asked softly.

  His voice was quiet. “Yes, I do. More than I should.” He didn’t elaborate, but she hadn’t expected him to. Letting the matter go, she allowed him to escort her into the club again to find their friends. She told herself he was right, that this had been a onetime thing and it was best that way. It wasn’t until they arrived at their table once more that she realized there was another consequence of her interlude with Michael, one she’d pushed to the back of her mind as they’d left earlier.

  She recalled it as she saw the pain brimming in Bastian’s green eyes.

  “Don’t you think you ought to slow down on those?” Blaze questioned, brow furrowed in apparent worry.

  Bastian gazed down at his third—or was it fourth?—drink and shook his head. “No, I don’t think so.”

  He tried to come up with one good reason to slack off on the booze, but nothing came to mind. What else did he have to do? His best friend and a beautiful woman had disappeared outside, and from the heat sizzling in the air, he knew why.

  Michael and Katrina. Two people he wanted more than anyone. They’d deserted him without a thought.

  No, he wasn’t nearly drunk enough. Maybe there wasn’t that much alcohol in the city to deaden the pain. But he could try.

  Blaze and Emma shared a look, and she gave a slight nod. Bastian wondered what that was about and then decided he didn’t give a shit. Suddenly, he needed to be invisible. To get the fuck out of here and find a place to be alone. He had an empty condo waiting that he hadn’t seen since Michael’s shooting, and this seemed like the perfect time to return there, despite Michael’s having asked him to stay at the estate.

  He doesn’t need me anymore, so why the torture? I can’t stand this. Not one more second.

  A hand on his arm brought him out of his dark thoughts, and he looked at Emma. Her expressive eyes set in a striking, angular face regarded him with something very unlike pity. The heat in them got his attention, bringing him, however briefly, out of his morose mood. Reaching out, she traced his lips with one finger, the invitation clear even before she spoke.

  “Come home with us tonight?”

  The words were like an oasis in hell and he savored them, his plans to be alone turning to dust. He should decline, but he felt a little too desperate. A lot too raw. He needed someone to care, to take his mind and body someplace wonderful, if only for the next few hours. However, the ounce of pride he had left urged him to put up a token resistance.

  “I’m not certain that’s a good idea,” he said, glancing at Blaze. Had his friend ever told Emma that he’d fucked Bastian senseless while she’d been held hostage by Dietz? The dark-haired man gave no indication, but Emma put his concern to rest.

  “I know you guys played once,” she said with a little smile. “It’s totally fine as long as I’m the only girl he fucks.”

  Her blunt honesty startled a laugh out of him. “Really? Well, I don’t know. Your man was almost more than I could handle. The two of you together? I might not survive.”

  “Oh, we’re very sure you’ll do better than survive.” Leaning over, she nibbled the outside of his ear, kissed the sensitive skin behind it. “Trust us and we’ll take you on a nice trip, no luggage required.”

  Crap, he’d have to be dead not to respond, and from his dick’s prompt reaction, he was far from his eternal sleep. This evening might be salvaged after all—if he could just get Michael out of his heart and keep Katrina from stealing a bigger piece of it than she already had.

  At that moment, his best friend and the woman in question appeared at their table. Hair mussed, faces flushed, clothing not quite put to rights. Agony lanced Bastian’s chest, and he thought the punch of a bullet probably hurt less than knowing what they’d been doing.

  Tearing his eyes from them, he forced a smile for Emma. “Make that a definite yes. I’d love to.”

  Michael’s voice was tight. “Love to what?”

  The coldness of his own tone shocked him as he rose from his seat and leaned in to Michael, speaking for his ears only. “Get my ass reamed again by Blaze’s magnificent cock while I eat his woman’s pussy, that’s what. And I can’t wait.”

  Oh, right there. A direct hit. Michael’s jaw went slack, his expression priceless. A big crack in the bastard’s unflappable calm. Bastian turned back to his companions.

  “Ready when you are.”

  With that, he made his way through the crowd, trusting the couple to follow. And he didn’t look back.

  Six

  His cell phone trilled a greeting, and Dietz glanced at the display. His contact knew better than to phone with anything less than spectacular news, and his gut tightened. He picked up on the second ring.

  “What do you have?”

  “Got something on Ross. Looks like he’s snared himself a new woman.”

  His eyebrow arched in surprise. This was one piece of news he hadn’t been expecting. “Who is she?”

  “Some gorgeous redhead he called Katrina.”

  His pulse quickened, his mind already working this to his advantage. “Brandt?”

  “Don’t know, but I’ll find out. Ross and Chevalier showed up at Shakers tonight to party with the woman, an armed watch in tow, of course.”

  He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Did Michael believe him to be that stupid, to make a move at the most obvious time? “And then?”

  “They went inside, and Ross came out with the woman a while later, took her into the alley, and fucked her brains out.” He chuckled nastily. “I beat off like a house afire, and my dick will still be hard for a week.”

  “That was more information than I needed.”

  “Hey, sorry.” He didn’t sound contrite at all.

  “This is an interesting development. Keep me informed so I can decide how to best use this against him.”

  “Will do.”

  Dietz snapped his phone shut and sat thinking for a very long time.

  Yes, he would use this to his advantage, if necessary.

  Right after Chevalier was dead and buried.

  On the sidewalk, Bastian waited for Blaze and Emma to catch up, using the few moments to get a handle on his runaway emotions. Trouble was, he wasn’t an expert at compartmentalizing, as Michael was. He couldn’t tuck those pesky, inconve
nient feelings into labeled boxes and shove them deep in a closet. Like when Bastian confessed his love to Michael, and the man married Maggie almost in a blind panic.

  That’s not fair. Maggie’s death nearly destroyed him and he grieved for months.

  Okay, so maybe it was just Bastian’s issue. Michael couldn’t express feelings he didn’t have, and Bastian couldn’t let go. I have to. Somehow, I’ve got to move on.

  Blaze joined him on the sidewalk, Emma close behind. “Michael called the team and they’re sending a couple of agents to trail us and watch my house while you’re there.”

  Bastian grimaced. “God, I hadn’t even thought of the danger I’m putting you two in by going with you. I should go home.” He’d been thinking with his cock, and had also been focused on striking out at Michael.

  “Forget it,” Emma said. “We’ve got a date and we’re not letting you wimp out.”

  “It’ll be good for you to unwind for a while.” Blaze’s golden gaze pinned him. “To forget. Besides, Emma and I are already on Dietz’s hit list because we destroyed his plans for the weapon he stole, and the money we cost him as a result. You’re not bringing any more trouble than we’ve already got.”

  He gave a shaky laugh. “Yeah, you’re right. Let’s go.”

  They climbed into a sedan Bastian assumed was Emma’s, because Blaze drove a snazzy Viper. Bastian settled in the backseat and tried to shake off the feeling of being the perpetual fifth wheel. Which was ridiculous. He would relax and enjoy tonight, whatever it took.

  “I take it Michael still hasn’t come around,” Blaze said, pulling out of the parking lot.

  Bastian snorted. “Are you kidding? He—Wait a second. I told you I was in love with someone, but I never said with whom.” Before Michael was shot, he’d made the confession to Kelly in a moment of weakness, leaving out his friend’s name. He thought he’d been careful, but apparently not enough.

  “Reality check: it’s so obvious to everyone within a ten-mile radius, you might as well put up a billboard. I guessed a long time ago.”