My Obsession (19 page)

Brent eased away from her back, leaving a cold spot where his body had warmed hers. He pulled the covers back over her, but it wasn’t the same without him, and she mourned the loss of the tender moment.

“I’ll order us some lunch and be back with your clothes Michelle brought this morning.”

“Lunch?” she asked as confusion made her frown. She started to move to search the bedside table for a clock, but her throbbing head stopped her and she relaxed back against the pillow with a sigh. “Maybe I had better call work and tell Gary I won’t be in today.”

Brent straightened the rumpled covers. “Gary heard about last night and has given you the next several days off to rest and recover. He’ll check in with you as the week goes along.”

She blew out a breath. She had just accepted the job and she already needed time off. She mentally shook her head, since doing it physically wasn’t a pleasant option at this point. “Thank you. I appreciate you letting him know. I guess I slept in a little this morning.”

“Just a little. It’s nearly one in the afternoon.”

She cringed. “That explains why I’m so hungry.”

“I’m on it. Any requests for lunch?”

She tried to think of something that sounded good—anything that sounded appetizing at this point—and came up blank. “Some type of comfort food. I’m hungry, hurting, and just a bit grouchy.” She smiled gamely as she realized that was all too true. She wasn’t a good sick person. It always made her impatient to get back to what she should be doing. Even when her father had still been around, he had told her she was a grouch when not feeling well. The quick memory hurt, so she shoved it aside and concentrated on the fact that she was here in this beautiful room with Brent and had just spent the night with him cuddled against her.

No sex, just comfort and cuddling. Not that sex was bad. Quite the contrary, but that was for when she felt better.

Sandra frowned, something Brent had said finally filtering through her head. “Michelle was here?”

He gave a nod. “She’s worried about you, but I assured her I was taking good care of you. She went back home to meet with the security company. It will take a few days for them to install everything, and Michelle will stay in a hotel until it’s complete, but by the time you go home everything will done.”

Emotion swelled inside Sandra’s throat. “Thank you, Brent. You’ve done so much for me, for us. I can’t ever thank you enough.”

Her head began to throb again and she let her eyes slip closed to block out the light.

Brent watched Sandra as she fell asleep again just seconds after she had finished speaking. He checked the temptation to lean down and brush a kiss across her forehead. He didn’t want to wake her until the food was delivered. Which meant he needed to order it.

Fifteen minutes later, he gently rubbed her shoulder until her eyes fluttered open. It took a minute for her gray gaze to find him and focus, but when it did, she immediately pushed at the covers. “Mmm. I smell it, but can’t tell what it is. I’m starving.”

He helped her sit up and let her have a minute for her equilibrium to settle so she didn’t get dizzy. “You said comfort food, and since you enjoyed the soup so much last night I got more tomato basil soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. It’s not gourmet, but it’s something I remember my grandmother making for me on rainy, miserable days when I was younger.” He turned to find her watching him closely. He didn’t think he had shared much about his life growing up, afraid it would lead to discussions of high school, but he wasn’t sorry he’d told her. “Lunch is out on the table just off the kitchen. Do you want me to bring it in here and feed you again like last night?”

He remembered lifting each spoonful of soup to her beautiful lips and being surprised when it was his heart that swelled and not his cock as he cared for her.

Having never been in love before, this was all new for him. He had cared for people before, of course, but not like this.

“As much as I enjoyed that, I think I’d like to get up for a bit. I just need to make a stop on the way…”

He nodded and helped her stand, and when she was ready, led her over to his master bath and gave her some privacy.

When she opened the door again he helped her into the hallway and out to the table, where he’d already set out the food.

He smiled as she took a bite of the grilled cheese—with cheddar and sourdough, which was his favorite—and smiled. “This is really good. I don’t think I’ve ever had it any way except with white bread and American cheese.” She held up the piece with the bite mark out of it. “This is much better.”

Silence fell for a few minutes while they both ate and Sandra slowly seemed to gain more energy.

The police had called at nine a.m. and Brent had told them to call back tomorrow. Today was entirely devoted to Sandra resting and recovering. He had already asked Dexter to watch over Club Desire while he took care of her.

“Do your grandparents live here?”

The question caught him off guard. “My grandparents?”

She took a large drink of Diet Pepsi. “You said your grandmother used to make this for you when you were younger.” She gestured down at her plate. “And you said you grew up in Arizona. I just wondered if your grandparents still lived around here.”

Old pain throbbed inside his gut. “No. Both my grandparents died in a car crash when I was in high school.” He had been about to say “a few weeks after you turned me down” but bit that back.

“Oh, Brent. I’m so sorry.” Her forehead was creased with concern and she reached out to lay her hand over his. “Were you very close?”

He remembered the day the school counselor had called him out of class and told him that the two people in the world he loved the most would never be coming home again and that he would be going into foster care. He blew out a slow breath. “It’s a long story, but my grandparents raised me since I was a baby. So to lose them both at the same time like that was really hard.”

She nodded, then winced.

“Oh, let me get your Percocet. It’s more than time for your next dose and you’ve eaten enough so it shouldn’t upset your stomach.”

He grabbed the bottle off the counter and shook out one pill onto her palm.

She took the pill, washing it down with generous amounts of Diet Pepsi, and then finished her food.

Brent made himself eat something, although after talking about his grandparents, the food no longer sounded appetizing. Especially something that always made him think of his grandmother.

One day when everything was settled between him and Sandra, he would pull out his boxes of keepsakes and tell her about the two people who gave up their retirement years to raise their son’s unwanted baby. But for today, he needed to keep his thoughts on taking care of Sandra.

Soon after she finished eating, her eyelids were drooping and it was time to tuck her back into bed.

Diego studied himself in the hotel room mirror and cursed as he ran his fingers over the four long scratches that bitch had given him last night. He would make her pay for that!

He ran his hand over his hair, glad he no longer needed to wear that hideous white-blond wig. He much preferred his normal glossy black color. But once he had seen the gangly junkie hanging around and casing the house where Sandra was staying, he thought the wig might come in handy. They were both about the same height and build, so he couldn’t pass up the opportunity. Of course it had been raining so hard and was so dark last night that he doubted anyone had even noted his hair color, or much of anything else.

He had seen on the news that the junkie had been arrested, and had apparently been so strung out that he had confessed to attacking Sandra. Diego laughed.

That stupid bitch hadn’t even recognized him. Breaking the streetlamps the night before the storm had also been an inspired idea.

He still wasn’t sure how he was going to get into Club Desire on Friday. Infiltrating any of the groups attending was proving harder than he had thought. Apparently “Master Brent,” as he was known, was a stickler for security, and his staff and even his patrons were extremely loyal.

Even at the other dungeons in town, Brent and Club Desire had an impeccable and envied reputation. But Diego had come too close to go home empty-handed.

After he had run last night, he had called around to local hospitals on the off chance that Sandra had sustained serious injuries.

He had finally found the hospital she had been taken to, but they wouldn’t give him any details as to her condition, and when he asked them to ring her room he was told she had already been released.

Another trip to their house would have been foolhardy at that point, so he had come back to the motel to shower and regroup.

The Roman orgy started at eight p.m. sharp. An out-of-town dungeon master from Detroit had organized a road trip for people who wanted to visit the famous “Club Desire.” He sneered. He had done some checking on Brent Weston. He hadn’t inherited his riches, as Diego had originally thought. No, he was a bona fide self-made man, much to Diego’s irritation. The damn man was a highly sought-after efficiency expert both in the United States and abroad. That, along with some great investments and plenty of luck, had propelled him to where he was—one of the many millionaires who lived here in this hellhole called Arizona.

Diego traced the darkening bruise that ran along his jaw just under his right ear. It was still tender, and he couldn’t believe the asshole had marked him like that. He had bought some under-eye concealer at the drugstore posing as a helpful husband so the clerk would help him choose one that would work well. He hoped that cover story would throw off anyone who came asking questions. This trip was causing too many small things that could be traced back to him if someone dug deep enough.

Now he just had to figure out how to use the event tonight to get close enough to Sandra to separate her from anyone who would help her.

The doorbell chimed, and Sandra glanced at the small screen the contractor had just installed inside the house next to the front door. The foreman smiled at her on the screen, and behind him she could see the walkway and a strip of the street where his white truck was still parked. The yard had finally dried out after Monday’s horrible storm, but they could see enough on the monitor to know what might be going on in front of the house and possibly alert them to any trouble.

She unlocked the door and let him in.

He was a gangly man with red hair and a thick Irish accent. “It’s all set. We’re waiting to install one more part for the doorbell and it’s all done. Then we’ll run you through everything to make sure it works, clean up our gear, and get out of your hair. Give me about twenty minutes and I’ll be back for you to sign off on our work.”

Before Sandra could ask what else he could possibly be installing, he was out the door and out of earshot. She shook her head. When Brent said he was going to send someone to beef up security, she and Michelle hadn’t realized the enormity of what that would entail. Not that they didn’t appreciate it. With the improvements they’d seen so far, both of them felt safer and more confident about living in this neighborhood as two women alone.

She had insisted Brent bring her home last night when Michelle moved back in from the hotel where she’d been staying. It had been tough sleeping alone after three wonderful nights falling asleep in Brent’s arms, but she didn’t want to make Michelle sleep here alone her first night back.

Some of the doors and windows had been replaced.

It wasn’t a bad neighborhood, just older, and there had been a few break-ins and some vandalism a few streets over during the past few months as well as the junkie and the episode that landed her in the hospital.

But Sandra was glad the work was nearly finished. Michelle had let in the men doing the installation this morning before she had left for work, which was much more trusting than she usually was, even though Sandra had already been awake and having hot tea and honey with some breakfast—an addiction she had picked up from her few days staying with Brent.

Brent had tried to talk Michelle into letting him move them into a newer home in a more upscale neighborhood, but Michelle had flatly refused. She said it was one thing to accept some security updates, but she wouldn’t let Brent become their “sugar daddy.”

At the thought of Brent, Sandra’s body warmed, and then a hard pang of longing filled her belly. She hadn’t heard from him all day and wouldn’t see him until later tonight at Club Desire.

She’d been falling—at least into extreme obsession—for a while now. But had she already fallen all the way…in love? The hard burst of warmth inside her chest was enough to tell her the answer.

She was irrevocably, madly in love with Brent. No matter that they’d only known each other a short time. They might not know every detail about each other yet, but they had time to learn. And being with him felt incredibly right.

And yet, what if Brent didn’t feel the same? Her gut tightened at the thought, and she swallowed hard.

She knew he was smitten too, and possibly even as obsessed as she was, but that didn’t necessarily equal love. She would have to wait and see what happened between them. It might kill her not to tell the world now that she had realized the depth of her emotions, but she would wait. Either until Brent told her how he felt or until the time was right to spill her deep, dark secret. Either way, it would most likely make the hours until she could see him even more unbearable.

Keeping this secret from him was going to be the hardest thing she’d ever done. She couldn’t believe she had felt comfortable enough to tell him all about her childhood. For most of her life she had accepted the fact that she would go to the grave with that knowledge, but it had taken a huge weight off her shoulders to share it with Brent. And she had been incredibly surprised that she was able to talk about it. For some reason Brent slipped past all her barriers, as if they had known and trusted each other forever.

They hadn’t played any scenes since the attack, but before that he’d gone out of his way to work around her limits and make her more comfortable, and now she was beginning to see what her old roommate, Darla, and all the other subs had meant about power exchange, subspace, Doms, and all the rest.

She smiled, her chest filling with a buoyant sensation she could only call happiness. She had found her place in Club Desire. She was in love with Brent, she adored Dex, and she already liked Jake, Logan, Min, Sherri, and Valerie. And she absolutely loved and craved Brent’s touch and domination. His very loving but firm domination.

She’d known women who claimed to feel that way, but she had always been at the New York club mostly for the friendships. The D/s relationships had been purely a means to an end for a girl who hadn’t had a chance to develop full dating and social skills in high school and even college.

Michelle breezed in from the kitchen, startling Sandra. She hadn’t heard the car or the garage door. But then she’d been lost in her own musings. About Brent. Again.

He seemed to be all she thought about lately, and she couldn’t bring herself to be sorry. No matter how quickly the situation had happened, Brent made her happy. Happier than she’d ever been, and she just hoped and prayed that nothing came along to ruin that happiness.

Every other time in her life when she thought things were starting to fall into place for her, something had shattered her world. But this time, no matter what, she would fight for the life that was taking shape around her.

“Sandra?” The concern in Michelle’s voice made Sandra realize she was scowling and staring at her feet. She looked up and forced a smile, although she was sure her friend knew her well enough to see through the effort.

“Sorry, just caught up in my thoughts. You’re home early,” she said, trying to redirect the conversation.

Michelle nodded. “It was a half day. They’re remodeling the restrooms and had to turn the water off, so they sent everyone home. How are you feeling?”

Sandra shrugged, realizing she hadn’t needed a Percocet yet this morning so had forgotten all about them. But she didn’t want to take them unless she needed them. “I’m starting to feel better. My head isn’t throbbing and the big bump on the back of my head only hurts if I touch it, bump it, or my hair pulls on it for some reason.” She waved the situation away. “So in that respect I’m much better. I just need to get a nap in before going to Club Desire tonight to see Brent.” She smiled as thoughts about what Brent had in store for her tonight filled her like helium, making her feel like she might float away.

“Ahh, the beauty of a woman in love. I have to admit, I’m a tiny bit jealous.”

Sandra studied her friend. “I almost feel guilty for being so obviously sappy in front of you.”

Michelle hit Sandra playfully on the arm. “Don’t. Just keep an eye out at that dungeon for any hunky men who might be a good match for me.”

They both laughed, but Sandra knew that Michelle was only partly joking. She would love to have a good man in her life, and they were difficult to find.

The doorbell rang, startling her again. Michelle started forward before Sandra could even react, so she just followed slowly as her friend checked the screen next to the door, and after seeing the foreman of the security team opened it.

Half an hour later, they had toured the house and property and had inspected every aspect of the new security measures. A new front and back door had been installed as well as the door that led from the kitchen into the garage, and all three had received new locks. A few of the windows had been replaced that were broken or hadn’t been installed correctly in the first place.

The new alarm system required them to punch in a code as soon as they entered the house. The doorbell doubled as a camera and apparently also captured the fingerprints of whoever pressed the button to ring it. That fingerprint part was the last piece the foreman had installed before calling the job complete.

The man held out a clipboard and a pen to Michelle. “If you’ll sign at the bottom to signify that the work is complete and that I’ve gone over everything with you, I’ll get out of your hair.”

Michelle took the clipboard and read the forms carefully before lowering it to look at the foreman. “It says here that by signing it I’m agreeing to pay for all the work…”

He waved away her words. “Mr. Weston has already specified that all bills go to him. You’re signing to say that the work is complete and that I went over it with you. I know if Mr. Weston isn’t happy that my boss will kick my ass, so I made sure you ladies are taken care of. I’m not sure how they know each other exactly other than my boss said that Mr. Weston saved him a bunch of money several years back.” He winked.

Weston…

That was the first time she’d heard Brent’s last name.

Brent Weston
.

It suited him…and that sense of familiarity she’d had since she’d first seen him in his office pulled at her again.

Had she met Brent before?

The name might sound familiar, but there was no way she’d ever forget the man who now filled her thoughts if she had met him before. She’d never known anyone like him.

Maybe she’d just heard the name somewhere?

Michelle took the clipboard with a frown, although by the time she signed the form with a flourish, her expression had cleared and she offered a bright smile to the foreman. “Thank you for all your help.”

He ripped off the back copy of the form Michelle had signed and handed it to her. “All in the line of duty, ladies. It’s been a pleasure.” He flashed them a smile as he left.

At the nearly deafening quiet left behind, Sandra turned to find Michelle frowning again, staring at her copy of the receipt.

“What’s wrong, Michelle? What’s going on?”

Michelle took a deep breath and blew it out before meeting Sandra’s gaze. “Come with me. I think I just solved a mystery that’s been bugging me for the past week.”

Confused, Sandra followed her friend down the hall and into the office.

Michelle reached up to pull a dark green book off the very top shelf of her bookshelf. A book that Sandra hadn’t seen in ten years. In fact, she wasn’t even sure what had happened to her high-school yearbooks. When she’d left Phoenix to move to New York, they hadn’t been a priority, and since she wasn’t sure what her mother had done with her things, she didn’t know if they were even still around.

Michelle leafed through the book and then with a little sound of accomplishment, she pointed to a picture and held the book out for Sandra to see.

Michelle was pointing to a senior picture of a boy Sandra barely remembered from high school. Looking at him now, Sandra could see he was a cute boy, even with the large Harry Potter glasses he wore.

She searched her mind, but his name remained elusive. Michelle’s finger covered the name printed right under the picture.

He’d been one of the kids shunned by the more popular set. If she remembered correctly he’d been extremely smart, and for that as well as his smaller, scrawnier size he’d been labeled a nerd. Several of the football players had reveled in picking on the poor kid. She hadn’t spoken to him more than a handful of times before he’d asked her to a dance their senior year.