Obsession (14 page)

Marnie arrived within the hour, carrying two cups of coffee from Starbucks. “Two grande Caramel Macchiatos,” she announced.

“You’re the best,” I told her, taking one.

“Aren’t you going to ask me why I’m on my third cup of coffee today?”

“This is your third cup of coffee?”

Marnie sipped her Starbucks brew and raised one eyebrow. “Mmm-hmm.”

I knew that tone. “Marnie!” I exclaimed. “Did you and TRULYACUTIE—”

“Spend most of the night fucking?” Her face lit up in a huge smile. “You bet we did.”

“You dirty girl,” I teased. Marnie just laughed.

“So things are working out with him,” I went on.

“He’s not crazy, at least not as far as I can tell. He’s actually very funny.”

“And the sex was good?”

“The sex was
hot.
”

I sipped my own coffee. “Nice.”

“His name is Robert, by the way. Not Rob, not Bob. And definitely not Bobby.”

“So when do I get to meet him?” I asked.

“Whenever,” Marnie said. “Maybe even tonight. Hey—you and Peter can go out with me and Robert. Make it a double date. Maybe we can find a drive-in theater where we can neck in the backseat and miss most of the movie.”

I was way beyond necking in the backseat, and what Peter and I would be doing later certainly had to be done in private.

“Well, tonight’s no good,” I said. “Peter gets back into town tonight, and no offense, but I want to keep him all to myself. But I like the idea of us all going out sometime. Maybe dancing.”

I was feeling as carefree as the teenagers I’d read about in books and seen in movies—the only things on my mind were having a good time and having lots of sex. I hadn’t been that kind of teen in reality, and maybe that’s what I liked so much about Peter—that with him I was experiencing the kind of sex I’d never had.

I may as well enjoy my free time with him before school started again. Maybe even beyond that…

“Speaking of things working out,” Marnie said, “you really seem to like Peter.”

“I do,” I said wistfully. “On one level, I’m not sure what we really have in common. Would he have been the kind of guy I’d talk to in college? Not really. I’ve always gone for the safe guy, the stable guy, and Peter definitely has a sort of wild streak to him. But on another level, do we ever connect when it comes to sexual chemistry! When we’re together, he makes me forget that anything else exists. That anything else matters.”

“I’m glad you’re having a good time,” Marnie said.

I led her to the bedroom, where we went into the closet. I’d gotten some boxes together before she arrived, so they were ready for our task.

“You can start with Andrew’s shoes,” I said.

“That’s a lot of shoes,” Marnie commented. “You don’t think he’ll need them?”

“He hasn’t come back for them yet. And if he does, they’ll be conveniently packed for him.” I bent to pick up a black dress shoe and tossed it to Marnie. She caught it. “Pack them all,” I told her. “I’ll start with his clothes.”

Marnie placed the one shoe in the box, then got onto her butt and positioned herself near the rack of Andrew’s shoes. “Speaking of Andrew—have you heard from him?”

“He called last night,” I said.

“Oh?”

“It wasn’t pretty,” I told her, pulling one of Andrew’s neatly pressed T-shirts off a hanger. “He was drunk, and out with Dave. He called after midnight and rambled on about how he missed me and stuff.”

“What did you say?”

I packed the shirt into the box, then took another one off the hanger, and continued that routine while I spoke. “Nothing, really. Except try to find out if he was there alone and might get behind the wheel. That’s when he told me Dave was there. So Dave comes on the line, and he starts going on about how much Andrew loves me, that he made a mistake, yada yada yada.”

I was surprised that I was relaying the facts casually, without feeling anxiety in my gut. Maybe I was actually moving beyond the hurt, or at least compartmentalizing it.

“It’s weird,” I went on. “I haven’t been thinking about Andrew at all. All I’ve been able to think about this past weekend has been Peter and when I’ll see him again.” I paused and rested my hands on top of the box, which was almost full. “Remember in the Bahamas, when you were with Soriano, and you said you’d never felt that kind of sexual connection even with your ex?”

“Of course.”

“Now I get it. Because I feel the same way about Peter. I don’t remember
ever
feeling like this with Andrew. This kind of all-consuming passion where every single part of you can’t wait to see a man again. I know my relationship with Peter is still new, but every time he touches me…” Just thinking about his touch was stimulating me. “Marnie, every time feels like the first time. Is it because it’s new? Maybe. But again, when it was new with Andrew, it never was as intense as this.”

“That’s because Andrew doesn’t like going down on you.”

“Marnie!”

“It’s true,” she said. “From what you told me about Peter’s tongue, it’s no wonder you’re hooked on the guy. You know how girls often fall for their first sexual partner?”

“I’ve heard. My case was different, of course.”

“I know.” Marnie’s face first softened in sympathy, then hardened in anger. “I still wish I’d cut off Chad’s balls for what he did to you.”

I waved away the comment, mostly because I didn’t want to allow myself to remember what had happened that night. Unfortunately, I’d learned firsthand that a stranger didn’t have to grab you from the bushes and force himself on you for your life to change forever. Someone who was supposed to love you could hurt you in ways you’d never imagine.

Like Andrew had.

For the most part, I was able to keep the pain of the rape locked away. No good would come from dwelling on it. But occasionally, the memory got to me. I supposed that from time to time it always would.

“Sophie?”

My head whipped upward. “Huh?”

Marnie’s expression was full of concern. “Are you okay?”

“Let’s not talk about Chad,” I said. “Continue with the point you were making. You were saying that women often form attachments to the guys who are their first.”

“Right. Well,” Marnie began slowly, “you’re experiencing great oral sex for the first time with Peter. That’s bound to have you a little attached.”

“Maybe that’s part of it,” I agreed. “But even if he didn’t like doing that—and he
does
—I would still be drawn to him. It’s like our bodies speak their own language. Know what I mean?”

“Yeah,” Marnie said dreamily. “That’s how I’m feeling about TRULYACUTIE—well, Robert. At least after the first night. Time will tell if the sex gets stale.”

Marnie continued speaking, telling me about the dinner Robert had cooked for her last night, and how impressed she was with guys who could cook, but I hardly paid attention. My mind was on Peter, and the fact that I couldn’t wait to see him. I wished he was here right now, that we were both naked and in his bed.

Sex might get stale with some people, but I had the feeling that Peter and I would never face that problem.

Hours later, all of Andrew’s clothes, shoes and toiletries were in boxes and stored in the garage. The place looked very different, and a little weird without Andrew’s stuff in plain sight.

It’s only in the garage,
I reminded myself.
Easy access, if necessary.

But as far as I was concerned, the boxes would be staying in the garage for a long time.

I hadn’t heard from him today, but assumed that Dave had gotten Andrew back to the hotel without incident.

I put him out of my mind and thought of my upcoming reunion with Peter. As the hours passed, I grew more excited. And more anxious. I couldn’t wait to see him again, but the minutes seemed to be dragging by with agonizing slowness.

At six-thirty, after eating a bowl of cream-of-broccoli soup, I started to get ready. I showered and washed my hair. I smoothed a coconut-scented cream over my skin.

And then I got dressed.

Well,
undressed
was a better description. Because I got into the skimpy bra and underwear I’d bought at Frederick’s of Hollywood.

I used more makeup than I normally did, with dark eyeliner and a smoky shadow, and two coats of lash-enhancing mascara. By the time I’d put on my glossy red lipstick, I looked like I could have been a pinup girl in a racy calendar.

I checked out my reflection in my dresser mirror and grinned devilishly at my sex-kitten transformation. “Oh, yeah. Peter, you’re not going to be able to resist me.”

The phone rang. I sprinted across the bedroom to snatch up the receiver.

“Hello?” I said breathlessly.

“I just got to my apartment.”

Peter’s voice. I smiled. “I’m on my way, baby.”

I hung up the phone and within five minutes, had a sexy pair of black heels and my coat on. I opted for a higher-heeled strappy shoe this time as opposed to the lower-heeled slingbacks I’d worn with the outfit the first time.

This pair was much, much sexier.

Well, sluttier.

Oh, yeah, Peter and I would have some serious fun tonight.

Ready for a night of illicit fun, I left my house. Twenty-two minutes later, I was parked outside Peter’s apartment. Unlike the first time I’d worn this outfit to surprise him, I didn’t head to his door uneasily, but strutted there with confidence, knowing that within moments, I would be giving Peter one wicked surprise.

He opened the door before my knuckles hit the wood, his face lighting up when he saw me. Then desire darkened his gaze as his eyes settled on my coat.

“Interesting outfit,” he commented.

“I was feeling a little chilly,” I lied.

“I can help warm you up.” He curled his fingers around the collar of my coat and pulled me inside.

He kissed me, and every part of my body grew instantly hot. I reached between us to loosen the tie on my coat, so Peter could see what I had on underneath, but Peter’s hands came over mine.

“No,” he said.

“You’re going to like what I’m wearing underneath this,” I told him. “Promise.”

“I’m sure I will. Which is why I cannot allow myself to be tempted.” He ran his hands down my arms and took a step backward, leaving me confused. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving,” I replied, sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, leaving no question as to what I wanted to feast on. As much as Peter enjoyed oral sex, he clearly preferred giving as opposed to receiving, and wasn’t particularly interested in me sucking his cock.

But I wanted to feel the same measure of power he must feel over me when he had me quivering against his tongue.

“I’m starving too.” As he spoke, he took another step backward, and now I narrowed my eyes as I stared at him. “They didn’t feed me on the plane, and I was running late so I didn’t eat at the airport. Why don’t we go out for a bite to eat?”

“You’re joking.”

“Don’t be disappointed. I assure you, I will ravish your body—but to do that, I first need some food. For energy.” He trailed a finger down the front of my coat. “Good things come to those who wait.”

“Why don’t we just order a pizza?” I suggested. “You don’t realize what I have on under my coat.”

A smile danced on his lips. “I think I have a pretty good idea. And that will be the best part. Me looking at you as we eat, knowing what I’ll be having for dessert.”

My eyes widened. “You’re not trying to say…I mean, you don’t actually want to go to a restaurant? I thought you’d go through a McDonald’s drive-through or something.”

His finger went from the tie on my coat to the base of my neck. Every time his skin touched mine, I felt an electrical charge.

“
Bella,
I would not take you to McDonald’s.”

“Then what do you have in mind?” I asked, suddenly uncomfortable. “Because if you want to go somewhere nice, I can go home and change.”

Slowly, Peter shook his head. “This is exactly how I want you. Just let me put on my shoes.”

I wasn’t convinced about going out—not while I looked like a stripper—but I followed Peter to his doorway nonetheless. He slipped into a pair of black flip-flops. There he was, wearing blue jeans, a T-shirt and flip-flops, and I was dressed in a coat, high heels, and practically nothing underneath. We couldn’t have been more mismatched if we’d planned it. One look at us and people would have to wonder if I was a prostitute Peter had hired for the evening.

“Think of this as an adventure,
bella,
” Peter said, taking my hand. “A naughty adventure.”

Suddenly, I was no longer apprehensive, but turned-on. Excited. Hand in hand, we walked to Peter’s car, and I no longer cared that we looked mismatched.

We were a perfect fit in the only way that mattered to me.

Peter clearly walked on the wild side, a side I wasn’t familiar with. I sensed he was the kind of guy who didn’t care what others thought and who played by his own rules.

I liked that about him. Found it intriguing. Andrew was so straitlaced that he was predictable—with the exception of his affair, which I’d never seen coming.

Or maybe Andrew was the type who liked to play by the rules because he cared what people thought, and therefore wanted to create the illusion of being the good guy. Which is why his affair had blindsided me so.

But Peter…there was something wickedly sexy about his intensity. Something wickedly sexy in his simple touches that conveyed so much desire. I loved the way he always made eye contact with me. The way his lust for me was obvious in his gaze.

I’d meant what I’d said to Marnie—even when love had been new with Andrew, I never remembered feeling like this. I’d felt safe, yes. Deep affection, yes.

But not this burning, uncontrollable passion.

“What are you thinking about?” Peter asked, his question pulling me from my thoughts. I saw that we were at his gold Lincoln Navigator.

“You,” I replied simply.

He gave me a brief but wet kiss, then opened the passenger-side door for me. Moments later, we were both inside. Peter took my hand and brought it to his lap.

It was nice, the way he always wanted to be touching me.

“So,” he began. “Where would you like to go?”

“I don’t know. Surprise me.”

“How about The Venetian Room?”

The Venetian Room was a fine-dining establishment. “You must be kidding.”

“Why not?”

I chuckled uneasily. “You’re not dressed for that. And neither am I.”
Especially not me.
“Besides, I thought you said you were hungry. It’ll take two hours to get through all their courses.”

Peter leveled a charming smile on me. “I’m kidding. But how about Bahama Breeze?”

“No.” Not after Andrew had been there last night. Besides, it was far too close to where Andrew worked. We might be separated, but I didn’t want to run into him by chance.

“How about Denny’s?” I suggested. “The one on Orange Avenue isn’t too far from here. I don’t know about you, but I can have breakfast any time of the day. It’ll be fast enough, tasty.”

“Grand Slam?” Peter asked.

“I tend to go for pancakes smothered in strawberries and syrup.”

“Strawberries and syrup. Hmm.” As he said the words, Peter moved my hand farther up his leg, until I was touching his groin. He was hard.

I looked at him. “Are you sure you want to go out? I’ll be happy with a Big Mac and fries.”

Peter’s lips curling playfully, he drove out of his parking spot. “A naughty adventure, remember? Let’s enjoy it.”

As we approached the restaurant’s door, I glanced around nervously. And it wasn’t just because I was wearing hardly anything. I suddenly realized that I might see someone I knew. A parent of a student in my class. Or worse, a colleague of Andrew’s who would report back to him about my being out with another man, and dressed like a stripper, no less. I’d been excited by Peter’s talk about a naughty adventure, but now I wondered if this was a bad idea.

Peter tightened his arm around my waist, and as desire took hold, some of my concern ebbed away. Why did I care if someone Andrew knew saw us and told him about it? Surely everyone knew that Andrew had screwed someone else by now. Why the hell was I concerned that word might get back to him that I was seen with another man?

Besides, Andrew and I were separated, and whatever I did was no one’s business.

“You all right?” Peter asked me.

“Fine,” I replied. “And hungry.”

We made our way into the restaurant. The lights were so bright I felt like a spotlight was on me. The curious and disapproving eyes of a middle-aged couple on their way out locked on me, and I shifted from foot to foot, uncomfortable. Even the hostess eyed me from head to toe with a probing gaze, as though she could see exactly what I had on underneath my coat.

“You’re nervous,
bella,
” Peter whispered.

I looked his way and shrugged slightly.

“You are in good hands. Trust me.”

“Table for two?” the hostess asked. Her jaw smacked as she loudly chewed gum, something I’m sure she wasn’t supposed to be doing while on the job. And right then I had a lightbulb moment. She could size me up all she wanted—her opinion didn’t matter.

“Yes,” Peter replied. “In a corner somewhere if possible, away from everyone. My girlfriend and I enjoy our privacy.”

The hostess studied us for a moment, as if the “girlfriend” comment baffled her. She blew a bubble, then sucked the gob of pink gum back into her mouth. I expected her to start pulling on it with her fingers, that’s how annoying she was.

“Sure. Table for two, for you and your girlfriend.”

I leveled a “don’t mess with me” look at her, and she flashed a syrupy smile before turning to head onto the restaurant floor.

I glanced at Peter, hoping he’d be annoyed by this girl’s attitude or at least her gum-smacking—enough to change his mind about eating here. But instead, he followed the hostess without so much as a disapproving look. Thankfully, the restaurant wasn’t all that crowded, and an entire section to the far left was completely unoccupied.

“How about right here?” Peter asked.

“No one’s working that section,” the gum-chewer said.

Peter ignored the hostess and took a seat at a booth. “Tell whoever takes care of us that we’ll make it worth her while.”

He fished a twenty out of his wallet and passed it to the hostess, whose attitude warmed considerably. She smiled genuinely. “Oh, certainly. I’ll take care of that for you.”

The hostess trotted off gleefully, and I rolled my eyes. I said to Peter, “She thinks I’m a hooker.”

In response, Peter extended his hand to me. “She only wishes she could be as sexy as you. Come.”

I hesitated, acting a little perturbed. Though Peter was right. I didn’t care what the hostess thought.

“Come,” Peter repeated.

I took his proffered hand and slid into the booth beside him. As soon as I was sitting, he drew me to him and kissed me deeply.

Far more deeply than people should kiss in public.

The kiss lasted no more than five seconds, but when I pulled away, I quickly looked across the restaurant to see if anyone had been watching.

“Sophie, are you ashamed of the passion we feel?”

I turned back to Peter. “No. No, I’m not ashamed. I just…wish we had more privacy.”

“Get up,” Peter said.

“Hmm?”

“Actually, you can just slide across my lap.”

Before I could ask what he was talking about, he took me by the waist and pulled me onto his lap. He groaned softly as my ass settled over him, but the next moment, he urged me to his right, and I landed on the soft seat of the booth.

“What are—”

“Now, you are on the side away from the rest of the room. My body is blocking yours.” He paused. Kissed my cheek. “We have more privacy.”

I got what he was saying, and warmth spread through me. “What exactly do you have in mind?” I asked.

“Nothing you won’t enjoy.”

“Peter…”

He placed his hand on my lap, brushed his fingers against the skin on my thigh.

And even here, in a Denny’s restaurant with bright lights, I found my body yielding to temptation.

“Did you miss this?” Peter asked, his eyes locked on mine. He was gently stroking my skin.

“You know I did.”

His fingers went beneath my jacket, stretching the short distance to reach my pussy. Then he pulled his hand away when we both noticed a waitress walking toward our table.

I ordered pancakes with whipped cream and strawberries, and Peter ordered a Denny’s Grand Slam breakfast. We both ordered orange juice as well.

The moment the waitress was gone, Peter slipped his hand between my legs again, this time not stopping until his fingers stroked my panties.

“Lace,” he said, sounding intrigued. “Black?”

“You’ll see.”

He moaned softly. “I wish I could see right now.”

“
That
will have to wait for later.”

“At least I can touch.” His fingers fiddled with the lace on my panties, pushing the fabric aside so he could touch my skin. “Oh, yes,” he whispered hotly in my ear. “Touching is the best part.”

I shuddered from the pleasure.

“Open your legs for me,” Peter said.

I glanced across the restaurant. The closest person was probably thirty feet away, and had his back to me. Anyone who looked this way wouldn’t be able to tell what Peter was doing unless they were brazen enough to stare, and I didn’t think that was likely.

“Peter…”

“Open your legs,
bella.
”

I couldn’t deny him. Didn’t want to. I opened my legs a little, giving him more access. He stroked me with abandon, and I had to bite down on my bottom lip to keep my moan inside.

When he slipped a finger inside me, I instinctively pressed my legs together because of where we were, but that only heightened the pleasure.

“Peter,” I rasped. “Every time you touch me…oh, shit. I see the waitress coming.”