OBSESSED

37

JARROD

Leah's body was an uncharted territory of erogenous zones and freckles.

I didn't know how I earned the privilege to touch her, to memorize each of her buttons and take full advantage of them, but I lived for very second of it.

Pleasing her was like obeying a law of nature. I was compelled to make her moan and writhe under me beyond reason.

Our chemistry felt natural yet compulsive. I couldn't stop myself around her. Each little cry she uttered while on my cock only spurned me on.

I stared longingly at her soft figure while she slept, naked and damp from the shower we'd taken minutes before. I was exhausted, too. Once we started, we couldn't stop until our bodies became physically undone.

I'd never experienced anything like this. Leah was her own breed of woman. She was my breed. From the moment I laid eyes on her, I knew she was going to save me.

She didn't know how beautiful she was. I honestly hadn't known either until right this very moment.

She became more and more beautiful to me every day. Each encounter we shared showed me how stunning and powerful she was. I felt like I was on a cloud just thinking about her and about this thing between us.

When I'd gotten out of my car earlier tonight and she'd said that we needed to talk, her face had shattered me. She looked so wary and confused.

I never wanted to see her that way again. She needed to know that I would never lay a finger on her and that I never had before.

Even when Tiffany had done her worst to me, I never considered it.

Tiffany.

Stifling a groan, I pressed my hands against my face.

I couldn't believe she knew about Leah. I couldn't believe that she had harassed my sweet little blonde.

My blood raced at the thought of anyone threatening her. The only reason I could think of Tiffany doing that was to get back at me.

For what? I had no clue.

She got her happy ending. She ran off with the man she was supposedly in love with. It must not have been so happy if she was dedicating this much effort to stalking my girlfriend.

If I didn't know better, I'd call that bitch myself and give her a real reason to be afraid of me. I would never call her, though. That's what she wanted and I was done giving her anything.

I'd been young and naive when we met. She was the epitome of sex, physically beautiful with a wicked tongue.

She made me realize that I liked control in sex, that I wanted to overpower my partner in every exchange. I never realized that she had the upper hand every time. She'd played me over and over and I would've let her until the end of time if she hadn't left me.

Part of me would always love Tiffany, as much as I despised her. She'd devoured my soul with her reckless, overwhelming love.

I would like to believe that she did love me once in her own way. She was a tumbleweed, loving each second as it happened and letting it go in the next.