Obsessive Temptation: A BWWM Romance Limited Edition Collection

by Peyton Banks

  “Don’t say the P word.” She shivered.

  “Pussy?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Not that P word.”

  “Penis?”

  “Stop being a jerk. Police is the P word I’m talking about. I’ll make more money next weekend, you’ll see. Are we done here?”

  She was always in a rush to be away from him. Con stood up and grabbed his jacket from the coat rack. After he slipped it on, he slipped his envelope into his coat pocket. He then held his hand out for Cristal, who sighed as she stared at his hand.

  “Must you always hold my hand when you walk me to my car?”

  “I must.”

  “Ugh.”

  She grabbed his hand and he helped her to her feet then escorted her out of the club. He didn’t miss the way her hand shook slightly in his grasp. Though she pretended she wasn’t attracted to him, he knew she was. In the hall, he stopped so Criss could put on her shoes.

  “Why must your employees take their shoes off when they enter your office, yet, you get to wear your shoes in your office?”

  “Not all my employees do. Only a select few.”

  “That makes no sense.”

  “My office, my rules.”

  “Well, it’s a dumb rule.”

  “Soon, your shoes won’t be the only thing you take off when you enter my office.”

  A slight blush crept into her cheeks. “Must you always behave inappropriately? Don’t you see Yury standing over there?”

  Con chuckled but said nothing. Once Cristal had her shoes on, they followed Yury outside. Con walked Cristal to her lemon of a car while Yury activated the club’s alarm system and locked the door.

  Cristal snatched her hand from his when they reached her ride. “Thank you,” she muttered angrily, before getting into her vehicle. He stood next to her car while she cranked it up. It took a few tries before the thing sputtered to life.

  He waved bye to her. She ignored him and sped off. Rude ass. She needed to be careful before her death-trap of a ride cut off on her again. The damn thing wouldn’t go over forty miles an hour without shaking like a hooker in the winter.

  “Are you ready sir?”

  He turned to find Yury holding the back door of his car open for him. Nodding, Con walked over to his ride and got inside. Once Yury was behind the wheel, he told him, “Follow Cristal home and then take me to Delilah’s house.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  During the fifteen-minute drive, Constantine went over in his head what had transpired between him and his employee. He was using the term employee loosely. She wasn’t on payroll.

  He didn’t even need the money she gave him every Friday and Saturday night to pay for his already repaired taillight. However, there was something about the feisty yet skittish Cristal Dawson that made him want to keep her around.

  Scratch that. He didn’t want to keep her around, he had to. Want implied he had a choice over the matter. He didn’t. He’d lost that ability the first day he met her. He wasn’t one of those fools who believed in love at first sight.

  He did however, believe in lust at first sight. He was deeply in lust with Cristal Dawson. It would take a few nights of uninterrupted fucking for him to shake these unwanted feelings she stirred inside of him.

  He couldn’t even pinpoint exactly what it was about her that was driving him crazy with need. Maybe it was her curves. Or that ass. Damn, that ass! Every time she got smart with him, he pictured himself bending her over his desk and spanking her until she learned to respect him.

  Her plump ass wasn’t the only thing he was attracted to. He also couldn’t seem to resist her pretty brown skin or her full lips that made him want to slide his cock between them. Con shifted in his seat.

  Just thinking about her had the blood racing to his cock. Since the day she slammed into his car, he’d been unable to get her out of his thoughts. He even dreamed about her. It wasn’t like he was hard up for women.

  He had a club full of women throwing themselves at him. Normally, he didn’t mix business with pleasure. He didn’t fuck women he had to work with. With Cristal, he’d make an exception, especially since she wasn’t really his employee.

  “Do you still have eyes on her?”

  “Yes, boss.”

  Con relaxed against his seat. A few minutes later, the car slowed down. Sticking to their normal routine, Yury pulled up next to where Cristal was parallel parked in front of the two-story home she shared with her grandmother and niece.

  Yeah, he knew her living situation. After their first encounter, he’d made it his mission to find out as much about her as possible. He still felt he didn’t know enough. He watched her get out of her car. Not looking his way, she strode toward her home.

  Con rolled down his window. “Sweet dreams, Cristal.”

  She ignored him. Grinning, he rolled the window up. Yury didn’t drive off until Cristal was safely inside her home. A home that looked like it had seen better days. Next stop, his god-daughter’s home. Another twenty-minute drive.

  When they arrived, Yury pulled the car into the driveway while Con texted Delilah to let her know he was outside. A few minutes later, the garage door opened and Yury drove into the garage.

  Con waited until the garage door shut before he stepped out of the car. The door to the inside of the house opened. Delilah stood in the doorway, clad in pajamas with her robe clutched tightly together at her chest.

  She looked even more frail than she had last week. That worried him. She stepped to the side, allowing him room to enter. He didn’t speak until she closed the door behind him and locked it.

  “You haven’t been eating.”

  A slight smile crossed over her face. “Are you telling me or asking me?”

  “Telling you.”

  She shrugged. “One doesn’t have much of an appetite when one’s husband is missing.”

  Tears sprang to her eyes and quickly raced down her dark brown cheeks. Con didn’t know how to handle emotional women. If he could pay her to stop crying, he would. He tried that once. She cursed him out.

  “I’m doing everything I can to find him, Delilah.”

  “He’d dead, Con. He has to be.” More tears dripped from her eyes.

  “Don’t say that.”

  “I watch the first forty-eight. People are supposed to expect the worst after forty-eight hours. Boris has been missing since June. JUNE,” Delilah yelled. “Either he’s dead, or he’s ran off and left his family behind.”

  “He would never leave you and Azariah behind. You two are his world.”

  “I know.” She wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Which means he’s dead. Con, you’ve been here since June looking for him. If he was alive and well, you would’ve found him by now.”

  “If I was allowed to go after him myself, I would’ve found him by now. But I’ve been forced to rely on the Soldiers…”

  “Fuck the Soldiers. They were supposed to protect him. He was one of them. He pledged his life to them. He did their bidding. He did whatever they needed, whenever they needed it. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were the ones who killed him.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “But…”

  Con gripped her arm. “Saying shit like that will get you six feet under or burned alive.”

  “I don’t care.”

  He gave her a gentle shake. “You better care. You have a daughter to live for.”

  A sob escaped her. “I know. I know.”

  The sobs took over, silencing her. He pulled her into his arms and held her as she cried on his shoulder. He felt partially responsible for her tears. He’d been sent to Chicago to find out what had happened to Boris.

  So far, he was failing the Soldiers and Delilah. Like him, Boris was a Soldier. A hitman at the beck and call of the leader of the Russian Soldiers. They were a secret branch of the Bratva that most had never heard of.

  And those who had heard of them rarely spoke of them. It was the leader of the Soldiers that had sent h
im there. He’d replaced Boris as Club Manager of Private Affairs gentleman’s club.

  The word on the street, spread by him, was that Boris had been fired. Truth was, he’d gone missing and the Soldiers were doing their best to find him. Their best was proving not good enough.

  Which was why Con had brought in his own crew to help with the search and to help out at the club. They needed to find Boris as soon as possible. Boris had a wife and a child who was depending on him.

  Until he was found, it was Constantine’s job to make sure Delilah and her daughter was taken care of. He could support them financially. But he couldn’t erase the pain and confusion they were feeling.

  “I’ll double my efforts,” he told her. “I’ll find him.” Dead or alive.

  “We need him back. And if he’s dead…” She sighed and wiped the tears from her eyes. “We need a body to bury. Me and my daughter need closure. We need…” Another round of sobs escaped her. “God, please let him be alive.”

  His heart broke for her and Azariah. Con stared toward the hallway that led to his god daughter’s room. He would keep his promise to Delilah. He would find Boris. Dead or alive. He would bring Boris home.

  And then he’d punish the motherfuckers who’d taken him.

  Home.

  Finally.

  Cristal unlocked her front door and stepped into her house. Back pressed against the door, she kicked her heels off and sighed. Her feet were finally free and as soon as she reached her bedroom, she’d free her breasts from the constraints of her bra.

  It was early. A little after three a.m. The house was quiet. As it should be. Yet, something felt off. Cristal stared down the long hallway of the old house she shared with her granny and niece.

  Nothing was out of place. However, there was no music playing. No matter how many times she told her granny not to wait up for her, that didn’t stop her granny from trying to. She always ended up falling asleep in the living room with her gospel music playing.

  This morning, there wasn’t any music playing. Moving slowly, Criss bent down and picked up her heels. Holding them like weapons, she walked down the hallway, stopping and standing still when she reached the archway to the living room.

  A floorboard creaked. Someone was in her living room. Criss rolled her eyes. She was pretty sure she knew who it was. Just in case she was wrong, she inched closer to the archway, hoping to get a peek into the living room.

  “I know you’re out there, Criss. Bring your ass in here. And don’t try nothing funny or I may not be nice to the old lady.”

  Granny!

  With her high heels still in her hands, Criss stepped into the archway. There he was, the man she hated with every fiber of her being. Every time she saw Scott McMahan, hatred and rage soared through her veins.

  He was a liar and a murderer. He may not have physically killed her sister, but he was still the person responsible for her death. Cindy never would’ve started doing drugs if she hadn’t met him.

  She never would’ve gotten mixed up with the wrong crowd if she hadn’t run off with him ten years ago. He was the reason her sister was dead. He was the reason her twin sister had overdosed.

  He was the reason her niece, Ashley, was now a motherless child. He was the reason her family was now living on the run. He was the reason she could barely afford to pay for her granny’s medicine or buy Ashley the trinkets she liked.

  Criss clutched her heels tighter. Times like this, she felt it would be easier to just kill him and be done with all the drama that him and his family had brought into her life. Her gaze drifted to her grandmother, who was sitting in her recliner.

  Granny didn’t look afraid. She looked pissed off. Like her, her granny was tired of Scott and the shit-storm that followed him everywhere he went. Scott raised his weapon and pointed it at Cristal.

  His pale hands trembled slightly as he said, “Put those heels down.”

  “Why? So, you can steal them and sell them for drugs?”

  He had the nerve to look ashamed. “Why would I want to steal your cheap ass shoes? My family has money.”

  “But you don’t. A trust fund baby without a trust fund is just a baby.”

  “Shut the fuck up.” With a crazed look in his eyes, he pulled at his blond hair. “Why do you always say shit that makes me want to hurt you?”

  “You, hurt me? Never. Oh, you mean that time you sucker punched me? That was a cheap shot. And as I recall, you came out of that fight worse off than me.”

  “Shut up, Cristal,” he yelled. “Shut the fuck up before I shoot you and the old lady.”

  Her lips snapped shut and her eyes strayed to her granny. She really needed to learn to keep her mouth closed. Her granny’s gaze met hers. For the first time, she saw real fear in her grandmother’s light brown eyes.

  Criss returned her attention to Scott. Something was different about him. Usually, he was just a pale, ungrateful white boy who’d been born with a silver spoon in his mouth. He still looked pale and ungrateful.

  Now, he also looked threatening. His hands were trembling and there was a wild look in his eyes. She’d seen her sister look this way a few times. It happened each time she tried to get off of drugs. Shit. Scott was going through withdrawals.

  “Scott, how about you put the gun down.”

  “How about you shut the fuck up and listen to me.”

  “Okay. Okay. I’m listening.” He nodded, but said nothing. She waited a few seconds before saying. “Scott, I’m listening.”

  “Yeah. Uh.”

  He rubbed the barrel of the gun against his head, seemingly getting his thoughts together. It would make her life so much easier if the gun would just go off and blow his brains out. Criss shook her head. No killing. She wasn’t a killer. She wasn’t her father.

  “Um…” Scott pointed the gun at her again. “I’ve been getting my life together.”

  Yeah right.

  “I’m off drugs.”

  “For how long?”

  “Two weeks.”

  “Good for you. Why are you here?”

  “I know my rights. If I get my shit together, I can take you all to court and get my daughter back.”

  Her niece would never live with that monster again. She didn’t give a damn what a judge said. Ashley was staying with her. Even if she had to work ten jobs to take care of her niece and her grandmother.

  “Scott, Shy is happy here. And…”

  “Her name is Ashley, not Shy. Why do you insist on calling her that?”

  “It’s just a nickname we gave her because she’s shy. That’s all.”

  “Well, I hate it.” Spittle flew from his mouth as he yelled. “My mother says it sounds ghetto.”

  Fuck you and your momma. “Okay, I won’t call her that. But, Scott, Ashely is happy here, with us.”

  “Kids belong with their parents. Cindy is dead. I’m all Ashley has.”

  “She has me and….”

  “You’re not her mother!”

  “I know. I’m her aunt. And I love her…”

  “I love her,” Scott shouted.

  Criss bit her tongue to keep from saying what she really wanted to say. He didn’t love Ashley. If he loved her, why had he whipped her so hard that she had welts all over her back and legs?

  If he loved her, why had Criss found her crying in a closet while Scott and his drug addict friends were passed out in the living room? Cristal’s entire body went tense when she heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Ashley. Shit. Criss took a step backward, stepping into the hallway.

  “Stay right there,” Scott yelled.

  “H-how about we go outside and talk?”

  “You must think I’m stupid. Stop moving.”

  Criss stopped in the hallway. Her eyes darted left to where Shy was standing at the end of the hall. Shy opened her mouth. Criss shook her head.

  “Who are you looking at?” Scott rushed forward.

  Damn it. “Run, Shy,” Criss shouted.

  Her niece’s
eyes widened. But she knew the drill. Shy took off running. Criss had to protect her niece. She couldn’t allow a monster like Scott to storm back into Shy’s life. She’d die before she let that happen.

  And she’d take Scott down with her.

  3

  Scott shoved past Criss, knocking her into the wall.

  She righted herself then chased after him. She caught up with him at the bottom of the stairs. She threw one of her heels as hard as she could. It hit him in the back of the head. He stopped and touched his head as he faced her.

  “Bitch…” he started.

  Unfortunately for him, he hadn’t realized how close she was. When he turned to her, she smacked him in the face with her other heel, only to pull it away and smack him in the face again.

  He shoved her away from him. Her back hit the wall. He went to raise his gun. She pushed away from the wall and hit his wrist with her heel, causing him to drop his weapon. Rage contorted his face into an ugly grimace.

  “Stupid bitch.” He lunged for her, knocking her to the floor. “You can’t keep my kid away from me.” His big hands wrapped around her throat.

  Unable to talk, barely able to breathe, she clawed at his hands, praying her niece had followed her directions. This was not a drill. This was the real deal. Gasping for air, Criss dug her nails into his hands. He still didn’t release her.

  “Let my daughter go.”

  Granny no, Criss thought as soon as she heard her grandmother’s voice. Suddenly his hands were no longer gripping her neck. Clutching her throat, she scooted away from him. She inched toward the gun lying on the floor.

  “Old bitch,” Scott shouted, as granny smacked him again with her cane. Scott raised his fist. Criss raised the gun.

  “Hit her and you’ll never hit anyone else.”

  He froze, fist still raised and looked to her. “You’re not going to shoot me.”

  “You know I will, Scott.”

  He lowered his hand. Her grandmother moved to stand next to Criss.

  “Get out of my house, Scott.”

  “I want my daughter.”

  Criss shook her head. “No, you don’t.”