Obsessive Temptation: A BWWM Romance Limited Edition Collection

by Peyton Banks

  “This can’t be right.” I said aloud.

  I hunched over the keyboard glowering the computer screen. Claudia’s books were off. Some of the company’s office spaces reflected they were rented when I knew they weren’t. Every Saturday on my morning walk downtown Coeur d’Alene, I peeked into the window of an office space that was vacated six months ago by a Real Estate office. No one was currently renting that office. To play it safe, I copied the addresses of the other offices. If they were rented who would pay such obscene rent? Ten -twenty thousand dollars a month for a small space. The typical rent ranged from twelve hundred to fifty-seven hundred a month depending on the size of the office.

  I wrapped up work early today. Needed to avoid rush hour traffic.

  “Donna, I am headed out. See you tomorrow.”

  “Have a great afternoon, Nadia.”

  The first property’s parking lot was desolate. I exited my charcoal gray Audi truck. The building was medium in size. Housed ten office spaces. I cupped my hands against the glass, peeking inside. Maybe I should take a closer look. I unlocked the door with the spare set of property keys I kept in my desk. Rarely had I used the keys. Mr. Grenache trusted I’d keep an eye on the properties from time to time. I strolled up and down the hall on the second floor, peeping into each office. The building was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. Standing on the first floor, I rubbed my neck. “Hmm, all empty. Five more properties to go.”

  I gawked at the water streaming down the drive way forming a small lake along the curb outside my home. My neighbor’s sexy, hard-muscled, tall frame appeared from my backyard. The yellow button-down shirt was folded under his elbows over his thick forearms. I bet his thighs are like a body-builder under those khakis. He walked toward my truck as I rolled to a stop in the driveway.

  “Good evening, neighbor.” He flashed his beautiful white teeth.

  He rarely smiled. Why did he smile today?

  He opened my door.

  “Hello, Mr. Wilder. What do I owe the pleasure?” My high cheekbones heated.

  He removed his aviator sunglasses, revealing his emerald green eyes. “Ms. Kerns, the water sprinkler was running all day again.” He sighed.

  His clean-shaven face damn near called out to my fingertips. I’d love to stroke his angular, tanned jaw. This was the first time we’ve been face-to-face in such close proximities. Normally he’d ask I turn off the sprinkler system from his driveway.

  Since my father bought the house, it was only fair I paid for the sprinkler timer. But I wasn’t sure how to install it.

  Mr. Wilder’s huge frame towered over my five-seven frame. His woodsy aftershave dangled under my nose. I wondered how tall he was.

  “Ms. Kerns, did you hear anything I said?”

  His deep voice penetrated my core.

  “Um. Yes of course. I know you and I discussed the timer on various occasions. And I understand you offered to install it.”

  “But you don’t feel comfortable allowing me into your home,” he huffed, placing his sunglasses on top of his head, resting in his short dark hair.

  “Ms. Kerns, pay someone to install the timer. Mrs. Bell continues to ask that I take care of your sprinkler system.” He walked toward his house next door.

  “Sorry, Mr. Wilder. Thanks again,” I yelled out.

  He tossed his hand in the air, never looking back and strolled into his house

  Nadia, you invite the drop dead, gorgeous neighbor into your home for dinner. It would’ve been the perfect way to get laid. He’s single, you’re single.

  I glanced across the street, smiled, and waved at my little gray-haired widowed neighbor Mrs. Bell.

  Mr. Wilder and I were the youngest residents living in the community. This was a retirement neighborhood. My social life came to a screeching halt after my best friend passed away. There wouldn’t be any wild parties. This was the best neighborhood for a person like me who wanted to walk the straight and narrow.

  Why did super hunk choose to live in a retirement community? My eyebrow rose at the thought.

  I drove my truck into the garage then walked into the house. The view of the sun setting from my patio was beautiful. That was where I sat this time of year. I threw my purse and brief case on the brown marble kitchen countertop.

  Hm, I wondered if I had any of my mom’s meals in the fridge. Yes, my mother prepared my meals every other week. I couldn’t cook a lick. Staring into the fridge, I smiled. “One meal remaining.” My parents were headed on another vacation for two weeks. Back to TV dinners.

  When my mother didn’t cook my meals, I ate salads, breakfast burritos or barely anything at all. My mother tried to teach me how to cook when I was a teenager, but I wasn’t good at setting the timers… hence the problem with the water sprinkler. Numbers were different. They called my name. I enjoyed number crunching.

  The beef stew spun at turtle speed in the microwave. While my dinner cooked, I strolled up the wooden white staircase into the master bedroom. I kicked off my black stilettos in the master walk-in closet and discarded my clothes into the dry cleaner bag. I snatched my pink silk robe off the hanger and slipped it over my honey brown skin. My bare feet padded across the white slate tile bathroom floor. I turned the tubs hot and cold knobs, adjusting the water temperature. A hot bath was comforting in the winter or summer. After what I uncovered today, the bath would relax me and semi put my mind at ease. I ran downstairs and removed my stew from the microwave. The bay leaves, smoked paprika, ginger, and garlic escaped up my nose. This was one of my favorite dishes. I grabbed a spoon from the drawer. I scooped a hefty helping of the hot stew into my mouth. Strolling through the living room, I glimpsed out of the window. My neighbors big black Tundra with monster wheels sat in his driveway. What was he like?

  Mrs. Bell called Mr. Wilder by his first name, Aiden. She said he’s reserved. Liked to keep to himself. He owned a children’s dental practice. Mr. Wilder didn’t exactly send off the warm and fuzzy bells. He was always so serious. I’m sure that smile today was because he was trying to be polite. He probably hated I was his neighbor. On my weekend morning runs, I noticed his cute children’s dentistry. There was never an excuse to drop in, so I kept moving.

  3

  Nadia

  I strolled into the bathroom and turned off the water. Sometimes I’d peek out of my window into Mr. Wilders backyard. He sat on his taupe lawn chair, with a beer in hand watching soccer games on the big outdoor screen TV. The meat simmering on the grill drove me crazy. I almost invited myself over a few times.

  * * *

  I pinned up my thick wavy natural locks then emerged into the hot soapy water. Closing my slightly slanted eyes, I pinched the slender bridge of my nose resting my hand on the wide base and exhaled. My mother’s words resonated with me. She said I had the worst taste in men. Maybe because they were always high on whatever their drug of choice was that day. I’d brought a few guys around. My mother said until I could bring a man over who was serious about his life not to bother bringing any guys to dinner.

  I wasn’t serious about being in a real relationship while in college. Nor did I think I’d ever be ready to settle down. I haven’t dated in a little over three years. What would we talk about? I know my love of number crunching. There weren’t any vices in my home. I could drink beer or the occasional glass of wine. I wasn’t interested in drinking hard liquor anymore. That craving hadn’t risen in a few years. The desire died shortly after my friend passed away.

  Dating someone would require honesty about my past abuse of drugs. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be ready to discuss my sordid past. Once the life of the party now she hid in a retirement community. I sighed. Nadia, think positive there has to be a guy out there for you. Preferably Mr. Wilder. Nope, nope. Keep the hot, tempting grizzly bear off your mind.

  My eyes scanned the half empty parking lot. Typical Friday in Coeur d’Alene. This was golf town USA. I laughed inside as I entered the office. My boss could always count on me. I always dragg
ed myself into work.

  “Good morning, Donna.”

  “How are you today, Nadia?” Her smile was bright and her gray eyes sparkled.

  She leaned forward over her big desk. “Claudia isn’t here again today.”

  My eyes widened, and I placed my hand over my face.

  “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “Another day of double work. Claudia owes me a gourmet coffee upon her return.”

  We laughed.

  “Nadia, I have to run out and grab one for the boss. I’ll grab one for you too.”

  My hand flew over my heart. “Donna, you are a total sweetheart. You don’t have to do that.”

  “It’s no problem at all. Think of it as the bosses treat. The order is on Grenache Accounting.”

  “Well, you know where I will be. Thanks again.”

  “No problem.”

  I stalked into my office and immersed myself into my work. I’ll work on my files first then Claudia’s. I stared at the large computer screen. Hopefully, I won’t uncover anything else. If I do, I’d have to bring it to Mr. Grenache’s attention.

  Knock, knock.

  “Come in.”

  Donna peeked her head in. “I have your latte and apple Danish.” She walked toward my desk.

  I stretched my hands out. “You are the best, Donna. You know I love a good Danish.”

  She chuckled, placing the treats in my hands. “I do. And again, it’s no problem at all. I’ll be at my desk if you need me.”

  I smiled as she darted out of my office closing the door behind her.

  Fifteen minutes later, I pushed back from the desk, stood, and extended my arms over my head. I rotated my shoulders and walked around the office with latte in hand. I closed my eyes, threw my head back, and exhaled.

  “Back to work Nadia,” I said aloud, sitting behind the computer.

  My eyes were glued to the company’s bank statements. Large transactions were transferred to various banks in the Cayman Islands and Swiss Bank system.

  I jumped at the boisterous laughter of a few coworkers walking past my office door. What time was it?

  The clock on my desktop read six thirty.

  Shit, I’ve been cooped up in my office all day. I was so deep in my work I forgot to eat lunch.

  The trail of finances insinuated Mr. Grenache was stealing money from his company. I reached into the desk drawer, retrieved a flash drive, and inserted it into the USB port. Gripping my eyes, I sighed and waited for Claudia files to upload.

  I kicked off my shoes the second I was through the front door.

  My empty stomach roared. I stalked into the kitchen and removed the herb grilled chicken from the heavy white plastic bag.

  The rosemary herb tortured my nose. My favorite upscale restaurant had the best food in all of Coeur d'Alene. After I washed my hands, I leaned over the kitchen counter shoving a fork full of mashed potatoes into my mouth. “Um. Damn, good.” I smiled.

  “Alexa, turn on Netflix in the living room.”

  I scooped the tin container off the counter, strolled into the living room, and sat on the red sofa. My fingers pressed the rubber buttons on the remote control until I found one of my favorite shows to watch.

  Dinner was fantastic, I placed the empty tin on the glass coffee table. Tomorrow I’ll order carryout again. My mother gave me a certificate to a cooking class. I knew I needed to learn how to cook. I sighed. Nope, I’ll head to the grocery store tomorrow and grab several boxed dinners.

  The scream on TV jarred me from my sleep. I slid my legs over the edge of the sofa, leaning against the back of the cushion, and I ran my hands over my face. “I better discard the carryout container.”

  Yawning, I trudged up the wooden staircase into my bedroom, and flipped on the light switch. I tossed my large purse on the shelf in my walk-in closet, discarded my clothes, then stepped into the oversized shower. The hot water dancing over my skin was just what I needed.

  4

  Aiden

  War. All too graphic for civilians. Boom. Holding the key in the Dentist office door lock, I ducked and turned to the street. Jesus Aiden it was just a car backfiring.

  I knew the difference. I’ve been inside two Humvees that flipped over after rolling over an IED. The sound was very distinctive from a car backfiring. I strolled over to the bar two doors down from my office. After drinking two beers I climbed into my truck.

  Fifteen minutes later, I turned onto the peaceful darkened Apple drive. Beautiful custom street lamps lit the path as I drove toward my home. My lips curled upward. I still couldn’t get over Admiral Cutner suggesting I move to this small town of Coeur d'Alene in Idaho.

  Hm, no water pooling along the curb of my neighbor’s home tonight.

  Myself nor Ms. Kerns had lived in our neighborhood long. Mrs. Bell reminded me several times Ms. Kerns was single. Sometimes I wondered if Mrs. Bell hobbled across the street, with the help of her cane, into my neighbors back yard and turned on the water. All so I could turn off the spigot and talk to Ms. Kerns face to face. I’d offered to install the timer on various occasions, but she made it clear she wasn’t comfortable with me entering her home. What did she think I would do? Throw her against the wall and kiss her passionately? I wouldn’t ever force myself on a woman.

  Early one Saturday morning, I opened my front door en-route to my office. Ms. Kerns tip toed down the drive way in a short pale, pink silk robe. My eyes widened as she bent down and scooped up the newspaper. There wasn’t a chance she wore shorts under that short robe only panties. I licked my lips and adjusted my throbbing cock in my pants. She tossed her crinkly dark hair over her shoulder, clutching the newspaper to her bosom. Her beautiful dark eyes under those long eyelashes never flickered a gaze toward my house. Her honey brown skin I bet was smooth as butter. Too many nights I dreamed of inhaling her delicious scent while filling her with every inch of my cock. The second she was behind closed doors, I darted out the door and hopped into my truck.

  I’d been celibate for three and a half years and wasn’t interested in hooking up with Ms. Kerns or any other woman. No matter how many times I lusted for her as I clutched Ms. Kerns oval face and stared at her long nose that widened out over her perfect plump lips. Each time in my dreams she screamed my name and told me she belonged to me. Yeah, that was all it would ever be, a dream. Even though I was living my quiet life one day, I’d return to active duty. A woman or wife wasn’t what I wanted. Military life proved to be difficult for some married couples. Being apart for months or a year at a time often destroyed marriages. My brother Valen suffered that brutal fate once he returned home from duty. His wife Charlene who was his high school sweetheart, left a sticky note on the divorce papers on the kitchen table. It read, ‘Sign please.’

  I shook my head at the memory.

  Admiral Cutner made it clear my quiet life was temporary. “Commander, one day I will have another Special Ops mission for you to carry out. After all you are the best.” His words reminded me my cushy life could come to a screeching halt at any time. Why didn’t I disappear in another country?

  Because I wanted to return to the U.S. Home.

  I also wanted to complete my Doctor of Dental Medicine degree (DDM). While I studied online for my undergrad degree, my Sailor buddy Franklin Martell taught me a few dental survival surgery basics. They were key to the completion of my DDM degree. The skills I learned were useful during secret missions. One of my men was shot in the face. After I patched him up, he said I saved his life and his jaw. A smile curled my lips. If I ever retire from the Navy, I’ll continue my dental profession.

  I turned into my driveway then threw the truck in park.

  A dark figure whisked past on my left.

  “Who the fuck was that?” I glanced next door at the darkened house.

  Was that Ms. Kerns? No, why would she run around her yard at night? Then I thought back to her in the skimpy robe tip toeing down the driveway. Could have very well been her. I smirked,
climbing out of my truck.

  Commander Aiden Jason Wilder twenty-eight years and single forever. Involving a woman in my volatile life wouldn’t be wise. She’d possibly worry if I’d ever return home from active duty. Although, she and our children would be set for life with the type of military life insurance I had.

  Don’t get me wrong there were great women married to military men. They wouldn’t dream of living without their spouse, no matter how long they were away from home. Yes, military wives were devastated when the notifying officer informed them their husband passed away. They loved that person wholeheartedly. It was clear not every woman would behave the way my brother’s wife did. Just wasn’t sure I wanted to take the chance.

  Ms. Kerns shouldn’t roam around her yard at night.

  I’d glance out the window to make sure she was all right.

  I strolled through the dimly lit house and stepped into the bedroom at the end of the hall. I peered out the window into Ms. Kerns back yard. Two men stood in her backyard holding their guns low. My eyes widened. One of the men directed the other to walk toward the back door.

  “Fuck! I have to get over there. They won’t harm her on my watch.” I ran back down the hall into my master bedroom and slipped my hand inside my dresser drawer. I retrieved the two Glocks with muzzles and slammed clips into both weapons. Freeing my green button-down shirt from the waistband of my khakis, I slipped one Glock against the small of my back.

  I sprinted down the wooden stairs and out the front door. Holding the other Glock secure at my side, I crept across her lawn toward the back door. I pulled the woodened privacy fence ajar and peeked into the backyard. One guy lurked outside her back door. I crossed one foot across the other in a crouching position inching closer to the man. I wrapped my large forearm around his neck from behind, squeezing. He gripped my muscled arm trying to break free, but no luck.