Page 48 of Secret Obsession
Makes me wonder if it hurts.
But then I register her thong. Another one, black this time. I drag it down and off her legs, and it joins the pile on the floor. I roll her to her back again. Her arm grazes my leg, and my throat tightens.
How can I want her so much, and hate her so much at the same time?
Once I undo the bow at the top of the corset, the rest is easy to loosen. Easier than my skates after a hard game. The ties are soft ribbons, and I change my mind about just loosening it—I keep tugging until the ribbon is pooled in my palm, and the corset gapes open.
Her breasts short-circuit my brain.
Holy shit.
I’m glad the light is on and that she’s not hiding herself from me. Because they’re perfect. Her nipples harden now that they’re in the open. I reach out and drag my finger down the center of her chest, resisting the urge to touch her more. Although, for the first time, she’s completely naked in front of me.
My gaze goes from her body to the ribbon, and I nod to myself.
A plan forms in my mind.
First, a way to claim her.
Then, a way to save her.
And when I’m done with her, I’ll turn my attention on the football player who thought he could get in her pants—and everyone will learn that she’s not available any longer.
15
WILLOW
Sunlight blinds me, as it always does when I forget to put down the blackout shades. I raise my arm to block it, and my other arm is dragged along.
Confusion doesn’t help wake me up.
If anything, I sink deeper.
I roll over, into a warm body. My arms are lifted over my head, and I groan to myself.
It’s too early—although clearly not early at all—and I’m in no mood to deal with the guy I brought home from the bar. Although, as I try to figure out without opening my eyes who exactly that is, I become aware of something else.
A separate sensation between my legs.
Wicked heat curls through my abdomen, and I let my knees fall open. I don’t know what sort of guy I brought home, but it’s not often that they’re into giving. Most are takers, at least in the one-night-stand department.
I guess in the boyfriend department, too.
My heart skips as it automatically latches on to Knox. I don’twantto be messed up over him, but why is he who I think about when there’s someone beside me in bed?
There were countless times that I woke up in the middle of the night and found him gone. Drinking downstairs with his friends after fucking me, or whatever, until he finally came back to bed. That hurt—but what hurts worse is that I let it happen.
The body beside me shifts, climbing over me.
I finally open my eyes, and my breath stalls.
Miles is directly over me. One arm is stretched up, his fingers wrapped around my wrist and pressing it down to the pillow.
Am I dreaming?
Have I had this dream before?
No—because in the dream, Miles always comes to me in the middle of the night, in the absence of Knox. Because my heart seems to like forbidden things, and maybe Miles has always been my temptation in the dark.
