Obesssion (6 page)

“
Leave the dishes.” Standing, I pulled her up and into my arms, nuzzling the side of her neck. I knew she liked that. It produced a giggle. I could feel her relaxing against me. “Come on.” I led her out of the kitchen and down to my den, collecting a second bottle of wine on the way.

“
What do you have in mind?” Her eyes sparkled. She sipped her wine and smiled at me. I had to say, she looked adorable at that moment; slightly unsure of herself, her feet shuffling and hands fidgeting, eyes flicking around my room. I had two oversized squashy leather sofas, a giant beanbag, a 56” plasma screen with surround sound, all the gaming systems, and a few other toys. All the comforts I could desire, including my generous selection of porn.

With a few clicks I dimmed the lights, loaded up a film and guided Suki to stand in front of me, her back to the screen, while I sprawled on one of the sofas. She had no idea. Cocking her head slightly to one side, she smiled at me and repeated her question.
“Gabe, what do you have in mind?”

“
Porn sex.”

I enjoyed the flutter of anxiety across her face. I could tell she was wondering if she’d heard me correctly. Before she could demur, I smiled at her.
“Take off your dress.”

Oh, glorious indecision. This was going to be such fun.
“Go on, take it off.” I kept my voice low and husky, reassuring her with my tone at the same time as I shocked her into paying attention.

“
You said…”

“
Porn. Sex.” I grinned. “Yes, I did.” Arching an eyebrow at her, I spoke teasingly. “You did say I could choose anything I liked.” That wasn’t quite what she’d agreed to, but Suki was now so tense I knew she wouldn’t pull me up for that. I waited another delightful moment watching her wrestling with herself, undecided whether to go along with this or not.

“
Suzu…” I used my pet name for her. “You do trust me, don’t you?”

“
Ye-es.”

“
Well then.” I sprawled back against the cushions, picking up the remote control and aiming it at the screen. “Take it off. Let me see what you’re wearing.”

“
What do you want me to do after that?” Her voice was high and nervous.

“
I’m not sure yet.” I watched her unfasten a hidden clasp, the fabric slipping down her body to pool at her feet. Hmm, that little set looked new. Definitely not her usual underwear. I left her to stand for a moment, awkward and uncomfortable before I took pity on her. “We’ll just play for a little while, see how it goes. Okay?”

“
Okay.” Suki stepped towards the sofa, pausing when I held up a hand.

“
I think we’ll start with you on your knees.” Oh yes, this would be fun. What I wanted, would be to see just how far I could push her.
God
she looked sexy, kneeling in front of me as I unzipped my jeans, two hot Swedish chicks writhing and moaning on the screen behind her. Tonight, I’d give her a night to remember.

3.5 Suki

Gabe let me escape to bed hours later. I huddled under the covers staring blankly at the ceiling, feeling the room swirling around me. Why had I put myself through that?
Oh God
… Bile rose in my throat as I realised he’d want to do it again, having done it once. He’d enjoyed it—he’d never been so passionate, ever, in ten years of married sex. My insides churned again.

Closing my eyes didn’t help. The images were burned on the inside of my retinas. Disgust, revulsion and panic all swelled at once, forcing me to sit up and gulp for air.

Flicking my bedside light on, I plumped the pillows and found a comfortable position. The nausea receded slightly.
Jesus
. Drinking two bottles of wine would be enough to make me comatose on a normal night, but right now, I felt I’d never sleep again.

He’d snogged me as I scrambled for the door.
“Go on up. I’ll join you soon.” His glittering eyes left me no doubt that he’d want seconds when he came to bed. I’d wanted to reinvigorate our love life, but not like this. I felt as though I’d been punished for some unknown transgression.

I sipped my glass of water, tried to think of something else.
Failed.

Gabe had wanted a blowjob to start with. Nothing strange in that, but having some noisy, flamboyant porn film running behind me as I worked on him was… unsettling. Especially since his eyes were firmly fixed on that. As though I were one of the busty beauties in his film.
Instead of me.
I’d been unprepared, too, for him to hold my head firmly in place, not allowing me to move, ensuring he came in my mouth, and I had no option to move out of the way as I usually did. I’d felt the first waves of anxiety when I realised I’d given him permission to do what he wanted, and I had to follow his lead.

Gagging slightly from that, I’d been trying to discreetly wipe my mouth when he tugged me forwards and draped me across his giant beanbag. Surprised, I didn’t move as he shunted the beans into the position he wanted, with me now facing the plasma screen.
Ugh
. Porn was not my thing. Watching other people shagging was a complete turn off, and I failed to understand why Gabe made such a fuss about it. I’d tried to watch it with him many times before. Thankfully, he’d given up a few years ago, or so I’d thought. Giving him total control had been a mistake.

“
Drink.” A wineglass materialised in front of my lips, Gabe tilting my head slightly to sip from it. I gulped, glad to shift the salty taste in my mouth, and then I realised he was still manoeuvring me into the position he wanted. My bum in the air, an unnatural angle, and my chest squashed into the beanbag. “God, you’re fucking gorgeous like this. All open and ready for me.” Probing fingers slipped beneath my thong, finding only disappointment. “You’re not very wet.” It was a disparaging tone that made me cringe. He expected me to feel desirable, like
this
?

The next hour played back in my head as a series of disjointed images. Gabe grunting in time with the noises from the screen, fucking me as I lay helpless before him. Totally intent on his own pleasure, his hands like iron on my hips, my mouth submerged in the beanbag, eyes unable to avoid the frenzied activity on the screen. The varied positions and noises from the men and women coupling, and Gabe’s enthusiasm to copy what they were doing.

One particularly athletic pose had my legs raised and splayed wide as Gabe plunged into me, hammering so hard I swore I was bruised inside. His cold insistence that I come for him, at his command, as though that would be enough. His fingers hurting as they squeezed my nipples. My feeble attempt at faking yet another orgasm. God knows I’d done it often enough, I should find it easy to turn in an Oscar-winning performance, but I struggled tonight.

A brief respite, more wine—a longing to blot it all out—and yet another film Gabe wanted me to watch. Something to get me more
“in the mood”. A young woman tied down to her bed, a line of men waiting to service her. I shuddered, only to find Gabe thinking I was aroused. “You like that? I might tie you up, next time.”

I shook my head to dispel the images playing inside it. It only served to increase the pounding headache. What had I done? I’d unleashed a different Gabe, one I’d never guessed at before. And it frightened the hell out of me.

3.6 Josh

I would have to use a different approach with my latest target. The tiny village where she lived didn’t have much in the way of hotels and, this time of year, most places were fully booked anyway. I decided to head up there and check out the area. In the worst instance, I had a tent and camping gear to fall back on. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d posed as a backpacker.

Leaving the Welsh mainland to drive onto the small Isle of Anglesey, I felt a flickering memory stirring as I cruised across the Menai Bridge. I’d chosen the old road instead of the modern tourist route and I was sure I’d been there before. I’d seen a picture of myself here, a photograph of me as a very small boy. I could see it in my head; I’d been wearing shorts and sandals, Talisman around my wrist, a t-shirt and a floppy sun hat. I’d been staring out at the Menai Straits below, clutching the stonework of the bridge. I could remember the heat of the stones beneath my palms, and it’d been summer. I had an ice cream spill down my t-shirt. I blinked. Where had the memory surfaced from? I couldn’t even remember going on holiday as a child. None of my foster families had ever taken me away.

According to the email, Anita Craigowan had a partnership in a riding school and could be found there when she was in the country. The rest of her time was spent with her husband, following him from one racing circuit to the next, their baby daughter accompanying them on their travels. The riding school was an obvious place to start. Half an hour later, I drove carefully up a dusty track, avoiding a teenage girl with two ponies, one lead rope in each hand. A brightly painted sign confirmed I had the right place.

MILLER’S STABLES

HACKS AND LIVERIES, LESSONS ON REQUEST

Several cars were already parked neatly in the busy yard and I gazed out at the buzzing hive of activity. Children clustered in a group around a bale of straw, all giggling and chattering together while one of them divided the bale into sections. Horses tied up to metal rings around the stable blocks, some tacked up ready for riding, others apparently waiting for attention. A collie dog barking a welcome as I climbed out of my car. Noises and smells assaulted my senses. I tried to blend into the background and observe.

Standing next to the stable block was a tall, slim blonde, long hair in a loose style down her back, one arm clutching a baby girl close to her chest. As I watched, she nuzzled the child, blowing raspberries on her neck. The baby squealed in delight. It had to be Anita. To buy myself some time, I pretended to fiddle with my phone, while making a covert recording of the blonde. I used a neat little miniature camcorder that masqueraded as a mobile phone and delivered crystal clear images. Nobody paid me any attention.

Another group of noisy children emerged from a building, babbling loudly to a tall guy dressed in riding gear. Dust streaked breeches tucked into knee-high boots and a grubby polo shirt suggested he’d been working, as did the complicated leather bridle slung across one shoulder. He spoke to the children, paused as they scattered into a nearby barn, and then turned to the blonde. Sidling up beside her, he slipped one arm around her waist, speaking into her ear. With his short, dark curly hair, he was definitely not her husband—I’d studied the photographs Alan had mailed me. Yet he held her in such an intimate fashion, now dropping a kiss onto her nose while he tickled the baby. Even after so many ‘jobs’, I still longed to see a faithful woman and, as always, I looked set to be disappointed again. Oh well, this would be an easy contract to complete.

I heard someone bellowing
“Nathaaaan…” from the barn and with a grin the guy peeled himself away and followed the yell. This was my opportunity to make contact. Stuffing the phone into my pocket, I strolled towards her.

“
Hi there,” she greeted me with a smile. “Can I help you?” The baby squawked at that moment, dropping something by her feet—a coloured plastic hoop. “
Mindy
,” she scolded. I bent down and retrieved it, handing it back, our fingers brushing in the process. “Thanks.” She examined the toy, pulled a face and slipped it into her pocket before looking back to me.

Her emotions were so clear and bright, I could practically see them: wistful as she caught a glimpse of the guy again.
Why won’t he commit to me? He still doesn’t trust me enough.
A hint of loneliness mixed in with longing. I felt embarrassed. According to Alan they’d not been married long, yet she was lusting after this other guy already?

I realised she was waiting for me to speak.
“I’m here on holiday, just having a look around. Do you have organised treks across the countryside? It’s been a while since I’ve ridden.”

“
Oh, yes,” her voice was confident. “How long are you staying?” Her eyes flicked to the barn, a smile creeping back into place as the guy emerged from the open doorway.
Look at me. Look how good I am with Mindy.

“
I’m not sure yet.” I waited, hoping the guy would come back to her. He did, flashing me a polite smile, while glancing back at her.

“
Nathan, this gentleman is interested in a trek. I was just going to check the diary.”

“
It’s okay, I was just going back to the office anyway.” He stuck a hand out to me. “Nathan Miller. Come with me and I’ll see when we can fit you in.” I felt another wave of longing from her. “You on holiday here? And have you ridden much?”

“
Yeah, taking a break up here. I’ve ridden a few times as a kid, but I guess I’d be classed as a beginner.”

He nodded, pushing open a wooden door neatly labelled ENQUIRIES.
“That won’t be a problem, we have lots of holidaymakers looking for an easy trek. It’s just a case of how soon we can book you in. Where are you staying?”