Tempting Him: An Obsessed Novella

by Jeanne St. James

  I hear the cap on the lube again and then he’s rubbing the head of his cock along my crease once more, and every time he does he pauses at my tight hole.

  “Do you want this?”

  Oh... “Yes.” I certainly do. Though, I tense since it’s been quite a while for me.

  “Relax,” he whispers, pressing forward, slowly stretching me open. “Say your safe word if you need me to stop, baby.” Now there’s no laughter in his voice. No, it’s ragged instead.

  I bite down on my bottom lip as he grips my hips hard, digging his fingers in to hold me still as he pushes past my tight ring and then slides gently inside. The stretch, the burn, makes me suck in a breath, but I don’t want him to stop.

  And I like him calling me baby. I not only like it, I want to hear it more from him.

  My eyes roll back in my head as he drives himself as deep as he can go and stills. He leans over my back again, kissing my shoulder blades, my shoulders, my neck, then he sinks his teeth into the sensitive spot where my neck meets my shoulder. I cry out an encouragement.

  I get off on biting as much as spanking.

  “More,” I groan.

  Licking the bite mark, he moves back down my back, nipping my skin, gripping my flesh in his teeth, making my pussy throb even though it’s empty and he’s filling my ass instead.

  Wow. Wow. Wow.

  If he’s skilled with a flogger, I may have to marry this man. I snort at my own thought and he hesitates.

  “You okay?”

  “Yes. Perfect,” I say as he trails his fingers around my waist and wraps an arm around my hips to pull me back away from the table slightly. Just enough so he can find my clit and tease me.

  “You’re so tight,” he groans against the skin of my back.

  I’m well aware of that. When he slips a finger inside me while his thumb plays me like a fiddle, I let myself go.

  “That’s it, baby. Damn.”

  Baby.

  “I’m going to fuck you harder,” he tells me as he slips a second finger inside, working me into a frenzy. I’ve long since released my buttocks and have planted my hands back on the table to brace myself.

  “Please,” I beg.

  “Please what?”

  “Please fuck me harder. Make me come.” A cry escapes me that’s sounds like a wild animal when he slams me hard.

  Then, before I realize what’s happening, I’m moving backwards when he wraps an arm around my waist. I land on his lap when he settles into the kitchen chair I was in earlier.

  I’m now on top, facing away from him as he’s planted deep inside me, both his cock in my ass, his fingers in my pussy.

  “Ride me.” His growl in my ear draws a shiver from me.

  Using the leverage of my feet on the tile floor, I rise and fall. His free hand pinches one of my nipples as he finger-fucks me and continues his assault on my clit.

  Without warning, a rogue wave rushes forward, tumbling me over and over as I come around his fingers, clench down on his cock and cry out his name.

  “That’s it, baby. Give me all of you.” He sounds out of breath, struggling to keep control. “One more before I come.”

  He nuzzles my neck with his nose, scrapes his teeth down my skin, once again sinking his teeth into my shoulder. But this time he doesn’t let go. He bites harder as I rise and fall faster, encouraging him to take me back out to the surf to find another wild wave. I don’t want a buildup, I don’t want to know it’s coming, I just want to be hit with it, tossed around, gasping for breath and struggling to right myself.

  That’s how I want to come.

  It needs to be intense and all-consuming.

  I land heavily in his lap and grind hard.

  “Fuck, baby,” he groans. “Fuck.”

  Yes. Yes. Yes!

  The more I hear him losing his shit, the more it drives me closer to that edge. I grind down again and he grunts loudly. I grind again and he curses.

  Now I can tell he’s hanging by a thin thread. One I don’t want to break until I find my second release.

  I cover the hand he has working my pussy with my own, guiding him, slipping a finger then two inside along with his, pushing him to move his fingers faster, more frantically.

  And when he tenses, I know he’s done. He’s finished. He’s losing himself and I whimper as my toes curl and the wave rushes through me once more, ripping a response from my center outwards.

  As he’s calling my name, I take him with me. Over and under before the wave spits us both back out. Breathless, panting, quivering with release.

  Wow. Wow. Wow.

  As soon as I catch my breath, I let out a long, satisfied sigh. He pulls the blindfold off me and tosses it onto the table, grabs my chin and twists my head to give me a deep, wet kiss.

  When he finally pulls away, he whispers, “That was fucking awesome.”

  Why, yes, it certainly was.

  Chapter Nine

  Cade:

  I study the silky blonde hair that’s spread over my chest as I sprawl on my back across Sky’s bed. Her ear is plastered over my heart, her palm slides mindlessly back and forth over my belly, her thigh pins mine to the bed, and her toe hooks around my calf.

  My fingers rake through all that hair of hers as I separate the strands and wonder how she keeps the length from turning into a big knot. I’m glad she’s not the type of woman who is afraid of messing up her hair. I like being able to touch it and relish the honey-like smoothness between my fingers.

  Her breathing is slow and steady as her soft, full breasts press into my ribcage.

  She’s content.

  So am I.

  And what’s really crazy is...

  This feels so right.

  I belong here.

  She’s supposed to be snuggled against me.

  I’m complete. And I never realized I wasn’t. At least, not until this very moment.

  Now I know why I’ve never settled down with anyone else. They simply weren’t right for me.

  Sky is right. She’s the one.

  It’s a ridiculous thought. To know something like this in such a unreasonably short amount of time.

  What was to be only hooking up with a sexy, tempting neighbor suddenly has become so much more.

  I can see the marks I left on her ass cheek, so I sweep my palm over her skin. “Good?”

  “Yes,” she says on a sigh.

  I am, too.

  “I didn’t hurt you, right?”

  Her eyes tip to mine. “No. Not at all.”

  “Good.” I’m glad. I definitely want to do more things like that with Sky. And that flogger of hers keeps bouncing around in my brain. My fingers itch to try it out. To leave stripes on her tan skin over her breasts and over her ass.

  Maybe not today. Maybe tomorrow. If she’ll let me play with her this weekend.

  Hell, even next week. Next month.

  I have no idea how she’s feeling about me, if she’s even thinking the same way.

  “Are you planning on spending the night?” she asks.

  And there it is.

  “Well, that flogger has been calling my name.” I glance down at her draped comfortably against my side. “Would you like me to?”

  “Yes, I would.”

  A sense of relief runs through me. Relief that she’s not eager to kick me out after a few orgasms. Relief that she may desire to see where this goes, just like I would like to. “I don’t have a change of clothes. I’ll need to run home.” I’ll literally need to run home and grab an overnight bag that will last me for the weekend. Because, honestly, if she’ll have me, I’ll stay until Sunday night or even early Monday morning.

  But I’ll let her take it at her pace.

  “Who said you’ll need clothes?” She gives me a naughty grin.

  I return it and trace a knuckle over her cheekbone. “True. But a toothbrush and some deodorant would be nice.”

  “Mmm. I see your point.”

  I laugh and her smile broadens,
lighting up her face.

  We both become quiet and enjoy the companionable silence for a few moments. I want to get to know her better. And it’s not just the flogger that sticks in my mind. It’s the photos I saw earlier.

  I should approach this carefully.

  “It’s strange we don’t know much about each other, but here we are, lying naked in bed together. We seem very comfortable with each other. Am I wrong?”

  She looks at me in surprise with those beautiful sky-blue eyes. “No. I’m enjoying this. Enjoying you.”

  I try not to give her a big goofy smile. (Keep it cool, Cade.) “Ditto. But I don’t even know your last name.” A valid point to get this conversation rolling in the right direction.

  She flicks at my nipple. “I don’t know yours either, you know.”

  That’s true. I haven’t shared. Though, I hadn’t found an opportunity to do so. Other than my career and my first name, she’s in the dark just the same as I am. “Mine’s pretty common. Harrison.”

  “Strong last name. Like your first name, too.” She lowers her voice like a movie trailer announcer and says, “Kincade Harrison, Secret Service Agent.”

  Then her body jerks slightly and without lifting her head, her eyes find mine again and she studies me. I struggle to keep my expression blank because it’s almost like she’s attempting to look deep into my soul.

  Something flashes behind her eyes and I become curious.

  “Schaeffer,” she murmurs softly.

  Skylar Schaeffer. That last name doesn’t raise any flags. “That’s your married name?” I continue to lazily brush her hair with my fingers.

  “No. I... I went back to my maiden name.”

  So, not the last name of the man in the photos. “How long ago did you divorce?”

  She averts her gaze from mine and a prickle skirts up my spine.

  I cock an eyebrow. “You’re not divorced?”

  She ducks her face into my chest, so now I can’t even read her expression. “No, he passed away.”

  My breath becomes shallow in my chest. “I’m sorry to hear that. That must have been difficult. How long ago?”

  “A couple of years now.” Not a clear answer. I wait but she remains quiet.

  “Long term illness?”

  She hesitates for a heartbeat, two. “Complications from one, yes.”

  Now I’m really curious. But I’m trying not to sound like I’m interrogating her. I don’t want her to not only shut down but shut me out.

  I have to ask... “What was your married name?”

  “Why?”

  “Just curious.”

  Skylar:

  Fear runs through my veins like a frozen stream. And that fear is because I believe my answer may be the end of us.

  Done before it’s ever really began.

  I like Cade. I like wrapping myself around him in my bed. I liked when he had me draped over the table as he brought me to an exquisite orgasm. I love his voice, his demeanor, the power he has over me during sex. If I had to pick a man out on a dating site that would be perfect for me, Cade would be it.

  We fit. Even in the short amount of time we’ve spent together, I recognize that. And from what I can see, he does, too.

  And is it fate that we just happen to be neighbors?

  Maybe.

  Is it fate that he decided to start a jogging routine?

  Possibly.

  Is it fate that I happened to be outside working in my front yard when he ran by and caught my eye?

  Most likely.

  If I say my former last name he might recognize it, even though there are probably a million people with the same last name out there. However, it’s a last name that might catch the attention of a Secret Service agent.

  But lying to him will not give this tenuous relationship a solid start. A relationship, or even the possibility of one, built on lies will remain rocky and untrue.

  A solid foundation is built on trust.

  Can I avoid the question? Yes, for now, but sooner or later he’s going to inquire again. He’s a Federal agent. Law enforcement tend to be inquisitive by nature. As they should be.

  No matter what, the truth will eventually come out. Better to rip a small Band-Aid off now than a large wound dressing later.

  But still...

  This churns my stomach and makes my heart beat wildly.

  I start...

  “My husband did a tour of duty over in Afghanistan. Like many troops, he saw things that would haunt him forever.”

  Cade says nothing, simply keeps stroking my hair, which I wish would soothe my nerves, and though it doesn’t, it does encourage me to continue.

  “And like many military members, he returned with PTSD.”

  Cade’s fingers still. Even though it’s only for a split second, I don’t miss it. And now, his other hand is sliding along my bare back.

  I suck air deeply through my nostrils and then let it go, hoping it’ll bolster me. Unfortunately, it doesn’t.

  “It was hard. For both of us.” Those words are simple, but they are so very true. “Our marriage struggled after that. He would close himself off. Get depressed, get angry, get violent.”

  Finally, Cade speaks, “Did he hurt you?”

  I allow myself to meet his gaze, if only for a moment. “No. Never. Even throughout his own ‘war’ he fought after being overseas, he loved me. It came close several times when he would get out of control. But he never took it over the edge. Until...”

  I close my eyes and press my face deeper into Cade’s chest. The memories flood through me and I don’t want to sob, cry, or lose myself all over again.

  I can’t lose myself because I’ve only just found me once more. And Cade. Who I hope will still give us a shot after I tell my story.

  “The last presidential election...”

  Cade moves slightly underneath me. Just a shift, but it’s telling.

  “I remember it well. I covered one of the candidates.” His voice sounds a little monotone like he’s trying not to give anything away.

  And that right there gives it all away.

  All the breath rushes from my lungs and now I’m this far in, I wonder if I can stop and we can move onto another subject.

  I’m sure Cade won’t allow me to simply change the subject. Not now. Not ever.

  “Which candidate?” Oh, God, please, please, please don’t say who I’m afraid you’re going to say.

  “The candidate who won.”

  My nightmare has returned. Though, maybe it never really went away. Maybe it lurked beneath the surface.

  His fingers curl into my hair and still. His hand along my back disappears. “Your husband’s last name was Williams.”

  Jesus.

  He didn’t ask, he stated that fact.

  He knows.

  He was there.

  He witnessed the horror.

  He now knows who I am. Even though I had no prior knowledge of my husband’s plans or actions, I’m still tied to that person.

  I was a victim, as well. But nobody cared.

  “Landis wanted to reduce veteran benefits.”

  “And still does. He’s not a popular person with vets.”

  “No. My husband snapped.”

  “I would say so.” His hand curls around my chin and lifts my face to his. “Sky...”

  I shake my head slightly, not enough to pull my face from his grasp, but enough to deny the sympathy in his eyes. The sadness that pulls at him. At me.

  Shit. This is going all so wrong.

  This was supposed to be a happy day, a day of enjoyment and of pleasure.

  Will I never escape this? Will this haunt me forever?

  “None of this was your fault. You had no prior knowledge he would snap like that and try to take out the senator.”

  “I should’ve known something... something was wrong. At least, more than normal.”

  “Don’t blame yourself.”

  It’s hard not to. I should’ve see some
sort of indication. A telling sign that he’d finally gone off the deep end. His mind severely broken. And the decision he made to try to assassinate a senator was the final breaking point.

  A fatal decision.

  The end for him. The end for us.

  I struggled for it not to be the end for me.

  Eventually, I clawed my way back out of that black hole. And thought I was in a good place.

  Then a Secret Service agent ran by my house. One who protected the actual senator who my husband tried to kill. How crazy is that?

  Fate whispers through my mind.

  We’re all connected in some way. Some more than others.

  “I assume you know the agent who shot my husband?” I ask.

  His chest rises and falls as his eyes lock with mine.

  In that moment, I know the answer without him ever saying a word. So when he does, it comes as no surprise.

  “Sky, I have something to tell you... Please, please, forgive me...”

  I close my eyes and let his deep voice wash over me. I never move until he’s done speaking.

  Suddenly, I realize... maybe this fate had a plan. Maybe we were brought together for a reason... To help us both heal.

  To get over the past and move forward.

  We’ll see what fate has in store for us.

  I, for one, want to know.

  I’m thinking Cade does, too.

  If You Enjoyed This Book

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  About the Author

  JEANNE ST. JAMES is a USA Today bestselling erotic romance author who loves an alpha male (or two). She was only thirteen when she started writing and her first paid published piece was an erotic story in Playgirl magazine. Her first erotic romance novel, Banged Up, was published in 2009. She is happily owned by farting French bulldogs. She writes M/F, M/M, and M/M/F ménages.