Obsession (11 page)

I saved myself the trip to Andrew’s workplace. I didn’t think I could stomach the sight of him. But once Marnie was gone I called him, because I had to know.

“Andrew Gibson,” I said, when a friendly female voice answered the hotel’s phone.

“One moment.”

One moment turned into more than a minute. By the time Andrew came on the line, I’d convinced myself that he’d been sneaking in a few moments of illicit pleasure instead of doing his job.

“Andrew Gibson,” he said.

“What were you doing—fucking your whore in one of the empty rooms? Or maybe the handicapped bathroom?” I hated myself for being so childish, but I couldn’t stop my words.

“Of course not.” He paused. “Sophie, I’m at work.”

“I know where you are,” I snapped. “I dialed the number.”

“You can’t call me at work to fight with me, okay? I’ve got a job to do here. If you want to see me later, you can yell at me in private all you want.”

“Did you fuck my friend?” I asked, getting right to the point.

There was a pause then a confused “What?”

“Marnie said you hit on her.”

“What?”

“Did you or did you not fuck her?”

“I have no clue what she’s talking about.”

“That’s a yes or no answer.”

“No! No, of course I didn’t.”

“But you did hit on her,” I pressed on.

“No,” Andrew said, but his voice seemed to waver. Or was I imagining that?

“Oh, so now
she’s
the liar—as opposed to the man I
know
has fucked around on me?”

“Jesus, Sophie, will you stop the swearing?” Andrew spoke in a frustrated whisper.

“Maybe when you stop lying!”

“I’m not lying. I don’t know what your friend is talking about. Yes, I had an affair. With one woman. I’ve never hit on Marnie, and God knows I’ve never slept with her.” Andrew sighed. “If I have to tell you a million times, I will. I’m sorry, Sophie. And I still love you.”

“Fuck you,” I said, and slammed down the phone.

Less than a minute later, the telephone rang.

I figured it was Andrew, so I didn’t answer it.

I spent the better part of the afternoon at the Florida Mall. It wasn’t the first time I’d resorted to retail therapy when I was in a funk, though I’d usually have Marnie tag along. This time, I wanted to be by myself, since I knew I’d be terrible company.

I was well aware that Peter’s apartment wasn’t too far from the mall, and while I browsed the huge department stores, I contemplated driving to his place.

But I wouldn’t, not in my mood. This was a time for me to be alone with my thoughts.

And my thoughts were grim. I couldn’t stop thinking about what Marnie had said about Andrew. How, exactly, had he come on to her? Had he whispered something crude in her ear? Had he squeezed her ass? Had he cornered her in a bathroom and asked for a quickie?

In my wildest dreams, I couldn’t imagine Andrew asking for a quickie. Then again, I never would have thought he’d have an affair.

But I did know that he could be a little frisky when he got drunk, which wasn’t very often. Maybe he’d jokingly slapped Marnie’s ass, and she’d taken him seriously.

And maybe I was pathetically grasping at straws.

How did I really know that Andrew wasn’t the type to jump at pussy when the opportunity arose? He could have had me completely fooled, and, like Marnie had said, only confessed his infidelity because his mistress was threatening to sue him.

The thought made my stomach queasy, and I tried to put Andrew out of my mouth altogether. I focused my attention on trying on dresses, shorts, shoes, sunglasses.

I bought a pair of sandals, a straw hat, and a new bathing suit at JCPenney. At Sears, I bought a new pale peach towel set and an expensive coffeemaker I’d been eyeing before, the kind that allowed you to make cappuccinos and espressos. I didn’t need any of this stuff, but shopping helped pass the time.

I made a trip to my white Honda Civic to put all my purchases in the trunk. Then I went to Barnes & Noble, hoping I’d find a gory murder mystery that would take my mind off love. Instead, the first book I saw when I entered the store was
How to Cope with Being Newly Single
. Turning my head, my eyes locked on
He’s Just Not That Into You
.

So much for retail therapy. I turned and fled the bookstore.

I forced myself to think about Peter, which wasn’t hard, considering my body still vividly remembered his touch. I remembered the primal sound that had rumbled in his chest when he’d had his face between my thighs. I remembered how easily our bodies had connected, as though we’d been lovers before.

I needed to see him again. I needed more of that animalistic passion and toe-tingling sex.

Even the score, Andrew had said. I would do that and then some.

That thought in mind, I went back into the mall and headed straight for Victoria’s Secret, which I had passed earlier. But when I got there and saw the mannequins in the window wearing lacy bras and panties, I kept walking.

I didn’t want pretty and sexy. I wanted naughty.

So I went to Frederick’s of Hollywood, where I bought the kind of bra and panty set that Andrew would have been shocked to see me wear. See-through, with puffy balls over the nipples and at the sides of the thong. I would wear it tonight when I went to see Peter, maybe with only a trench coat over top.

The thought made my ravaged pussy throb.

If Peter and I went at it at the same pace we had the night before, by the next morning, I might just have to seek medical attention, as I’d joked with Marnie.

I was counting on it.

At home, I went right to the bedroom where I dropped all my purchases onto the bed. The red message light on the bedside phone was flashing.

I went to the phone and punched in the code to retrieve the messages. The first was from Andrew. He sighed before speaking, having the nerve to sound frustrated. “Sophie, I know you’re there.” A beat. “Okay, I guess you’re not going to pick up. Listen, you have to believe me when I say that I don’t know what Marnie is talking about. I really don’t. Hell, I’m not even attracted to her. I love you, Sophie. And as pissed off as you get, I won’t stop. Please remember that.”

The next message was also from Andrew. “Sophie, I really want to talk to you. Call me back, please. I’m here till five. After that, you can reach me on my cell phone.”

I heard Marnie’s voice after that. “Hey, Sophie. Just calling to check up on you. Look, forget what I said about Andrew. It was a long time ago, and he was likely too drunk to know what he was doing. Whatever you decide to do, know that I’m here to support you one hundred percent. I’m sorry it didn’t seem that way.”

Contrary to what she thought, I wasn’t mad at her. I would call Marnie back, but not yet. I wasn’t in the mood to talk about anything that had to do with Andrew. It was too painful.

Instead, I tried on my lingerie. At the store, I’d only tried on the bra to make sure it fit, but now I put on the thong as well. Wearing the two racy items, I paraded in front of my dresser mirror.

Perfect,
I thought. I looked good. More than good. I looked tempting.

How would Peter react if I appeared at his door wearing a light jacket and opened it to expose this naughty lingerie? For the first time since Marnie’s shocking news earlier, I actually giggled. I bet Peter would mutter something in Italian, then pull me into his apartment and have me naked in five seconds flat.

There was no reason I had to wait until night to pay him a visit. As the saying goes, there was no time like the present.

I had just the right jacket. The light coat was black and made of cotton, and had a belt that tied around the waist. And while the jacket reached me mid-thigh—certainly longer than the minis and short-shorts young women sported in Florida—I felt as though everyone who saw me would know I was dressed only in lingerie under my coat.

I exited my house and tried to hurry to my car without anyone seeing me, but no such luck. Mr. Warner, my elderly neighbor who lived across the street, was in his driveway. He raised his hand and waved enthusiastically. Was I mistaken, or was he smiling a bit more brightly than usual?

I returned his wave and hustled into my car. I officially lived in Kissimmee, home of Mickey Mouse, and it took me twenty minutes to drive into Orlando proper where Peter lived. Seeing the apartment complex during daylight, I noticed for the first time the vibrant green grass and colorful hibiscus. The fountain at the entrance to the property was more impressive at night, only because it lit up. The property was beautiful, but that was Florida for you. With warm temperatures all year round, lawns were always well maintained and gardens always lush.

I pulled up in front of building number nine and killed my car’s engine. I gazed up at his second-floor window, which had a view of the parking lot. I hoped he would sense me and look out.

He didn’t.

Waiting until I saw no one around, I got out of my Honda Civic and climbed the steps to the second floor. I would have to alter my plan somewhat. With it being daylight, I wouldn’t flash Peter until I was in his apartment and the door firmly closed.

I raised my knuckles to his door and knocked. Then waited. After several seconds, I knocked again.

No answer.

I frowned, disappointed. How stupid could I have been? I hadn’t even considered that he might not be home when I got here. It was barely after five. No doubt, the man had a job. He was likely still at work.

I don’t know what I expected, but when, at four in the morning, I’d had to pry his greedy hands off of me, I certainly hadn’t figured that he’d had to get up and go to work for nine.

I glanced around, looking for his vehicle. There were three black SUVs in the parking lot.

Of course, he just might be out. Shopping or something.

Or in another woman’s bed.

Making my way back to my car, I thought about the fact that I knew nothing about Peter other than his cock size and that he was great in bed. I didn’t know what he did for a living. I didn’t know if he made his own pasta. I didn’t know if he had any brothers or sisters.

He was a stranger.

And yet, I’d given him my body without any inhibitions.

And that was perfectly fine. I wasn’t trying to build a personal connection with him. My time with Peter was about one thing.

Sex.

When I was two feet away from my car, I heard footfalls and turned. A young man, early twenties, was walking on the sidewalk about ten feet away from me. His eyes went directly to my torso, as though he had X-ray vision and knew exactly what I had on beneath my coat.

I opened my car door and pressed the coat to my butt before climbing inside. I didn’t want to reveal any more of my body than I already was.

I decided to wait on Peter, because I certainly didn’t want to go back to my place. Not yet. But after ten minutes, I accepted the fact that I had no idea when he would be getting home, and I couldn’t stay in the parking lot all evening.

I opened my glove box and scrounged around until I found a piece of paper and a pen. Best to write him a note, and if he wanted to, he could contact me when he got home.

I made the way back to his apartment, where I slipped the note under his door. “Don’t keep me waiting,” I said softly.

At home, I made dinner and waited for Peter to call.

And waited.

When the clock struck ten, I came to the conclusion that Peter had already moved on to a new fuck buddy, or was the type of guy who didn’t want to bed a woman more than once. He certainly could have his share of women, and for all I knew, he did.

That thought depressed me a little, and I decided to call Marnie. I didn’t want a new day to dawn with her believing I was mad at her for what she’d told me earlier. One thing I didn’t doubt—Marnie was my best friend, and she would never do anything to hurt me.

Marnie picked up on the third ring. “Hello?”

“Hey, hon. It’s me.”

“Sophie.”

“I just wanted you to know that I’m not mad at you, okay?”

“Good.” She sounded relieved, as if she’d been waiting to hear me say this all day. “Like I said, Andrew might have been so drunk, he didn’t know what he was saying.”

So Andrew’s come-on had been verbal. I hesitated, tempted to ask exactly what Andrew had said. But I didn’t. It didn’t really matter. What mattered was the fact that he had cheated on me, confessed to that, and that was the issue I needed to deal with.

“The bottom line is that I have to be careful,” I said. “I need to figure out if I can really trust Andrew to be a faithful husband from here on in.
If
I decide to take him back.”

“And just to set the record straight, that’s exactly what I hope. If you guys can work this out and have a happy marriage…more power to you.”

“I know you want what’s best for me,” I said, a faint smile forming on my lips.

“I do, Soph. You’re the best friend I’ve got. You’re closer to me than my own sister.”

“I know that. And you’re the sister I never had.”

The call-waiting beep sounded in my ear, preventing either of us from getting too sappy. “Marnie, hold on a sec.” I glanced at the phone’s display and saw the name P. Bacchio.

Italian.
Peter.

“Marnie, I think that’s Peter calling on the other line.”

“Oh, okay. Night, sweetie.”

I clicked over to the other line, paused for a moment to wipe the grin off my face, then said, “Hello?”

“You came to see me.”

I curled my legs beneath me on the sofa. “Yes. Yes, I did. But you weren’t home.”

“I was working.”

“Until now?” I asked.

“Until half an hour ago, yes.”

“What do you do?”

“Why don’t you come see me and I’ll tell you?”

I grinned from ear to ear. It was an offer I couldn’t refuse. I didn’t care if Peter had been making a buck, or if he’d been in bed with a harem of women. We were only fucking.

“Right now?” I asked.

“Works for me.”

“Then I’ll see you soon.”

I went as I was, in a simple sundress, as opposed to changing into the sexy getup I’d worn to his place earlier. Changing would have taken more time, and I wanted to see Peter already.

En route to his place, I found myself feeling nervous. How would Peter react to me this time? Would it be with the same level of passion as before? The second time around, would we connect with the same intense electricity?

The question was answered when I got to his door. As soon as he saw me, his face lit up and his eyes darkened with lust.

I felt a jolt of raw heat—especially when I realized that Peter was wearing only a towel.

“Hello,” he said.

“Hi.” I maintained eye contact with him, acting as though I hadn’t seen his naked chest and the beads of water glistening on his skin. The man oozed pure sex. Already, my libido was in overdrive.

“It’s okay to look,” Peter said, clearly picking up on the fact that I was deliberately not ogling him. “Okay to touch.”

I cracked a smile. “I figured it’s better that I wait until I’m inside your apartment.”

“Whenever you want me, I’m yours.”

God, but the man was irresistible. He stepped backward, and I walked into the apartment, letting my eyes fall lower to his impressive chest and six-pack abs. Obviously, he worked out to keep his body in such amazing shape.

I didn’t need a psychic to tell me he’d done his fair share of working out on women. With his stamina and strength, it was no wonder he had such great abs and quite likely the world’s greatest ass.

I reached for Peter as I stepped into the apartment, but he moved backward before my fingers were able to graze his skin. I moved forward again. He moved away from me again. A teasing smile danced on his lips as he continued to take slow steps backward, as though he enjoyed being just out of my reach.

“You know how sexy you are, don’t you?”

“I know how sexy
you
are,” he replied, but he didn’t stop moving. He rounded the sofa, and the glint in his eye told me he wanted me to chase him.

“I get it,” I said. “You want me to prove that I want you.”

Peter winked at me. I lurched. He ran.

I paused to consider my next move. Then I took a few steps, stopping in front of the sofa. Peter matched my steps until he was directly opposite me behind it. I kicked off my shoes, because the low-heeled sandals would only hinder me.

And then I sprinted around the sofa. Peter sprinted as well. His towel flapped with each of his strides, but stayed in place.

I stopped behind the sofa. He grinned at me from the other side. “I imagine you are not used to being the cat,” he said. “Only the mouse.”

“Don’t you worry about me,” I told him, feeling competitive. “I can catch a mouse or two.”

And then I charged. It didn’t look like he’d expected me to run when I did, and he had to move extra quickly before I reached him. I chased him for two laps around the sofa before I finally stopped.

Perhaps I should cheat.

I gave chase again, and this time, when I was behind the sofa and Peter in front, I dove over the back. My fingers skimmed his legs as I landed on the cushions, and he laughed.

When I got to my feet, I saw that he wasn’t standing directly behind the sofa, as I’d expected, but about halfway between the sofa and his bedroom door. I was slightly winded but tried not to let it show.

Slowly, Peter loosened the towel from around his waist. Revealed himself to me completely. Even though his penis wasn’t erect, it was still impressive.

He balled the towel and tossed it toward me. It landed on the floor behind the sofa. “How badly do you want me?” he asked.

He didn’t give me a chance to answer, just ran toward his bedroom. I ran after him. The lights were off in the room, so I paused when I crossed the threshold, trying to see where he was.

In the moment I realized he wasn’t on the bed, a shadow lunged at me from behind the door. Though I knew it had to be Peter, I screamed and instinctively turned away. Then giggled as his arms came around me from behind.

My giggles turned into moans as he pressed his lips to my neck and began flicking his hot tongue over my skin. While his tongue worked magic, he took my hands in his. Raised my hands high in the air and walked with me like that until I was at a wall.

His tongue dipping into my ear, he guided the palms of my hands to the wall. I pressed them flat, my moaning growing louder as the sensations of pleasure became more intense. Peter moved my hair out of the way and planted a slow, wet kiss on the back of my neck.

Then both his hands and mouth moved lower. His fingers stroked my back, his tongue my spine. My dress was in the way as his mouth ventured lower, but I felt the heat of his lips nonetheless.

Suddenly, I felt nothing. Not his fingers. Not his lips. It was odd to feel nothing when you couldn’t see and know what was coming next. Seconds ticked by, and my heart began to beat faster as I wondered exactly what Peter would do.

Then his hands were on my thighs, pulling my dress up to my waist. My dress went up, my thong went down, and Peter sank his teeth into my ass.

He groaned. I gasped.

His teeth pulled at my skin. His tongue flicked over it. He sucked it hard, and I knew he was going to give me a hickey on my ass like he’d done on my breast.

I flinched when I felt his fingers on my pussy. Then groaned when his fingers began to stroke my clit. They fondled me, dipped inside me, wiggled around and stretched me.

Peter withdrew his fingers, and I could hear the soft sounds of his tongue lapping at my essence.

The sound made my pussy throb.

Bringing my hands down from the wall, I turned around. Peter was on his knees, one finger still in his mouth. He really did love to eat pussy. I bent to meet him and trailed my tongue along his strong jawline. His mouth sought and found mine, and we necked as fervently as a couple of teenage kids in the backseat of a parent’s car.

As we kissed, Peter lowered himself onto the carpeted floor. I held my dress up and tried to straddle him, but my thong being partway down my legs prevented that. Realizing my predicament, Peter wrapped his fingers around the side of my thong and snapped the fabric.

Then he urgently curled his hands around my ass and pulled me downward while he kissed me.

His cock rested beneath my pussy, and I savored the feeling. I wanted nothing more than to have him enter me. But I managed to whisper “condom,” knowing we couldn’t risk sex without one.

Peter groaned, sounding a little disappointed. I slid off of him. He rose and went to his night table, where he fumbled around until he found a condom. Moonlight spilled into the room through the partially open blinds, allowing me to see his imposing erection. I touched my clit, finding it hard the way Peter had described that first night.

I couldn’t wait to feel his cock inside me again.

While Peter hastily opened the condom wrapper and began to roll it on, I started to take off my dress.

“No,” he said. “Leave it on.”

My hands stilled. “Okay.”

The condom in place, he moved toward me and got down on his knees to meet me. As he held my gaze, he lightly trailed his fingers over the spaghetti straps of my sundress. Then he dipped his fingers beneath the material and drew it down.

He pulled on the halter part of my dress, which was made mostly of elastic, freeing my breasts. Moaning as if he’d discovered the world’s greatest treasure, he lowered his head to one breast and began to suckle me.

Unlike the night before, when he’d suckled me hard, this time he did it gently. He suckled, twirled his tongue around my nipple, then gently grazed my hardened peak with his teeth.

He did the same to the other breast, sucking exquisitely until the delicious vibrations tingling my skin had me panting. He was stroking the pad of his thumb over my other nipple, heightening my pleasure.

My clit was pulsing wildly. “Fuck me,” I rasped. “Please, fuck me now.”

With a primal-sounding grunt, Peter flipped me onto my back and landed between my thighs. The move was surprisingly gentle. I eased my legs back, Peter adjusted his position, and then he was inside me.

Pure sexual bliss shot through me. This was the absolute best moment during sex, that first moment when a cock plunged inside your pussy. Even though I’d had Peter for hours the night before, the moment he entered me again I knew that this time would be a new, thrilling experience.

“Hard and fast?” he asked, his breath warm on my ear. “Or nice and slow?”

I kissed his neck. I wasn’t sure my vagina could withstand the same kind of energetic fucking tonight. “Nice and slow.”

The moan that escaped his throat sounded like one of appreciation, and locking his arms behind my knees, he burrowed himself deep inside me. Burrowed and stayed there. Kissed me. Then pulled back slowly, thrust slowly.

My entire body filled with sensation. Even if Peter didn’t move, I bet I could come like this. Just having him inside me made my body feel amazingly incredible.

“Yes,
bella,
” Peter said, and planted his lips on mine. We kissed the entire time his cock was inside me. Our tongues tangled as he moved his cock with slow skill.

This was intimate sex. Slow and sweet and personal.

So when my orgasm seized me with the strength of a category five hurricane, I didn’t expect it. Not given the pace we’d been maintaining. It spiraled from my center and spread to the tips of my fingers and tips of my toes, the depth of the pleasure indescribable.

I tried to tear my lips away as I gasped, but Peter kept his mouth on mine. He continued to kiss me as I moaned, swallowing my cries as if to make them a part of him.

Only when my orgasm subsided did Peter free my lips. I turned my head to the side and gulped in a deep breath.

“I love how you tremble in my arms. I love the taste of passion on your lips.”

I met Peter’s gaze, thinking that there was something special about him. He had his own brand of passion that was entirely addictive. Andrew never talked to me this way, but I liked it.

Liked it a lot.

“Did you come?” I asked.