OBSESSED

26

"Just don't say anything," I hissed, running a hand over my hair. It felt wavy and wild. God, I probably looked like a mess.

"What—?"

I pulled the door open and smiled at Jarrod. "Hi."

Jarrod's warm smile evaporated at the sight of the man behind me. His eyes darkened.

"You again," Danny muttered.

Jarrod's jaw ticked. "Yes, me again," he growled. "I'm her fucking boyfriend. What the hell are you doing here?"

I pushed the door open wider and faced Danny. "You got your jacket. Please, just go."

Danny turned his scathing from Jarrod to me, his face reddening by the second. Then he strode out, clipping Jarrod with his shoulder on the way. Jarrod turned to grab him but I threw my arms around him, pinning them to his side.

"I'm sorry," I said quickly. "I'll explain, just let him go."

Jarrod was visibly fuming and I feared for a second that he was going to shove me off and chase Danny. Fortunately, his gaze met mine and some of the fury dissipated. 

I took his hand and dragged him inside. His nostrils were still flaring as we settled in the kitchen, taking opposite sides of the island. I went directly for the coffee pot. It was too early for this shit, especially without caffeine.

"What was he doing here?"

When I peeked a glance at Jarrod, his eyes were narrowed on me.

I took a deep breath and leaned my back against the counter, folding my arms. "He came over to grab his jacket. I know that looked bad, but I swear that's all it was."

"Why did you have his jacket?"

"Well, I got a flat tire last night after I left your place. I tried to change it myself, but I didn't have a car jack," I explained. "I called everyone—obviously except you since you were working—and nobody could help me. He was my last resort." I sighed. "I was in that dress and it was cold, so he offered me his jacket."

His mouth twisted as he shook his head. "You should've called me."

"You had just got called into the hospital. Bothering you would've been pointless," I said.

"These are the kinds of things we're supposed to tell each other, regardless," he seethed.

"I'm sorry." I hesitantly met his gaze again, a shiver running down my spine at his burning stare. He looked like he wanted to eat me alive. "I can assure you that even if we weren't seeing each other, I wouldn't mess with him. He broke my heart."

Jarrod rubbed his face and took a deep breath. "I believe you. I just have some trust issues from when I was with my ex. When I saw him behind you, in your house while you're in a robe—" His face contorted with pain. "My mind just assumed the worst."

"Jarrod," I said sadly, walking around the island to reach him. "I'm sorry. I swear I would never do anything like that to you. I've never cheated on anyone before—it's never even crossed my mind."

He didn't resist as I slipped my hands around his waist and buried my face in his shoulder. His body remained tense before he relaxed with a sigh.

"I'm sorry, too." Resting his cheek on the top of my head, he embraced me back. "I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. You're too kind to break my heart like that."

My heart throbbed at his words. I wished I could make this entire situation go away like it never happened. I hated feeling like I let him down.

"My feelings for you make me a little irrational," he admitted, chuckling softly. "The thought of someone else touching you doesn't sit well with me—to put it mildly."

Tiny bolts of lightning bounced around in my stomach. I flushed again for a different reason.

"I want you all to myself," he husked in my ear. His hands slid down my arms to settle on the cradle of my hips. "This uncommitted shit makes me nervous. Let me make you mine already."

I pulled away to shoot him an offended look. "I thought you were my boyfriend?"

His chest vibrated with a guttural humming that resonated between my legs. I lazily trailed a hand up his chest.

"I want to be," he said.

I was all gummied mush from the waist down. When we were together, I couldn't help but want to make things official, too. He was sweet and generous and thoughtful. His protective and possessive tendencies, while frustrating, were endearing.

If I thought about him approaching another woman, I felt a spike of discomfort and jealousy in my chest. Ignoring such strong feelings seemed wrong.

I knew I had a lot of internal work to do in bracing my self-confidence and trust in others, but I was coming to realize that Jarrod could help me with that. 

Jarrod fiddled with the sides of my kimono until the ribbon holding it together slipped apart. His breath hitched.

"You're naked under this," he growled.

"I wouldn't have bothered with the robe if I had clothes on."

His stormy eyes snapped to mine. "Did he know?"

I quirked a brow, heat pooling in my tummy. "Would you prefer me to answer my door in the nude?"

He wrapped his hand in my hair and used his grip as leverage to pull my head back, leaving my lips and neck at his mercy. His eyes glinted with intent. Desire and the aching tension on my hair follicles left me breathless to complain,

"Your body is mine to look at," he snarled. "All of you is mine. No one else's."

Then he plundered my mouth with his lips, tongue, and teeth. He turned my head to the side and began sucking and biting on my neck. I hissed, toes curling, as he sank his teeth into my throat and sucked hard, undoubtedly leaving a mark.

His vicious lashing and nibbles all made his intentions clear: he owned my body.

"Is that clear?" he snarled, kissing the hickey. "Hm? Answer me."

My voice came breathily and soft. "Yes. Yes, I understand."

"Good." He pushed the robe apart and cupped my sex, threading his fingers through my folds. I jerked against him with a moan. "Now I'm going to make my pussy come."