Page 26 of Obsessive Cravings

“He had her sneak around behind our back,” Tyson said. “Kept it secret until he was ready to strike. Lured her out of town and held her hostage. He turned on her, then on us. We found her…” He looked over at Mason, who nodded for him to continue. “Bruised and bloodied. He used her as a shield so we couldn’t kill him.”

My anger was rising as I tried to keep my reaction from showing. He’d done what I’d set out to do. Exactly what I’d wanted to do—manipulate her and throw her back at her brother to weaken him, then kill them both. Only I’d become distracted, my plan taking a backseat to what Riley did to me.

“He stabbed her and in trying to save her, we lost him,” Mason finished for him.

“Smart man,” I said, hiding the vile hatred I had for Clint Randall. Mason may not have killed him, but I would, and I would make him suffer for daring to lay a finger on Riley.

“Consider him dead,” I said, loosening my hold on the folder, which had ripped from the pressure I had on it. I turned away and walked back to my car. “I’ll send you his body when I’ve suitably tortured him.”

I didn’t look back, signaling for Den to drive off. I couldn’t have stayed or said anything more because the anger was spilling over.

“Fuck!” The dashboard buckled from the force of my punch.

Den stayed quiet, and I stared at the file for the rest of the trip, angry at the fucker who’d hurt Riley. Angry at myself for not knowing, for doing the same things he’d done and causing her more fear, more pain. I’d stalked her, broken in, tied her up…although she’d given me consent, trusting that I wouldn’t hurt her for reasons I still didn’t completely understand.

Regardless, I’d brought up memories she was running from, and I hated myself for it. Hated that I had intended to do exactly what I now regretted because I was falling for Riley Brinks. And that was a place I had never expected to be, one that made me vulnerable, one that left me confused. I was tired of the game because I wanted Riley Brinks to be mine completely. That way, I could protect her and keep Clint Randall from ever touching her again. Mason may have failed at keeping her safe, but I wouldn’t.

Chapter Fourteen

RILEY

Ihadn’t seen Greyson Tides in days. I searched for him every time I entered the office, glanced through the lobby, or made an excuse to get coffee from the client coffee bar to catch a glimpse of him walking through to his elevator. He’d left me disappointed each time, as had my stranger. After that last night of pleasure, he hadn’t returned. His gifts continued, however, surprising me every morning.

Returning to my apartment, I absently fingered the more extravagant bracelet he’d left me. It was beautiful. The emeralds in it matched my eyes, and I wondered if he’d chosen it for that reason. If he had, it meant he had seen my eyes in the daylight. I shrugged away the disturbing sense that thought brought to me, rationalizing it just as I did the fact that this man somehow gained access to my apartment daily without me knowing. The word stalker tried to seep into my consciousness, but I was too far into the fairy tale I’d told myself this was to give it any notion.

It was likely good that I hadn’t seen Greyson. The claim he’d laid on me in his office still tingled through my veins, the feel of his hand on my skin still as prominent as my stranger’s touch. When he made his next move on me, I’d have to reconcile the need I had for my mystery man with the one I had for Greyson. I fingered the bracelet again, pushing the worry away and smiling as I walked into my apartment, my eyes falling on the beautiful dress draped over my table. The Christmas party was tonight. I’d said I wasn’t going, but Sherry had visited me before leaving the office and reminded me that Greyson expected me. Her words had sent a jolt of currents soaring through me. Greyson Tides wanted me there, and I had no doubt he’d make his next move, whatever that might be.

I closed the door and moved to the table, fingering the satin navy dress. It was so delicate, something that seemed foreign to my life now. I ran a finger over the sparkly silver shoes that sat upon it, noting the designer brand label. There was a note tucked in one and I picked it up.

I expect a dance with you tonight.

My stranger. He’d left me the dress and would be at the party this evening. I shivered in anticipation, my mind going through all the possibilities of finally finding out who he was. And of having both him and Greyson in one room. I didn’t know what to expect from that situation. Greyson had staked his claim, but my stranger had his own claim on me. Sure, it was one that was built on a very sketchy foundation, but it was one I couldn’t deny.

A necklace lay on the dress, the diamonds shimmering, and I absently touched them. Diamonds? Emeralds? Dresses that looked like they cost a fortune? My stranger had money, and that thought stirred something in my mind along with the other nudges that had flitted in and out of my thoughts the past week. There was something I was missing—the scent that lingered in the air, the firm and familiar touch, the lavish gifts.

I glanced around the apartment at the expensive furnishings Greyson had given me. I knew the difference between luxury brands and bargain brands. Mason had been my guardian long enough, and everything he bought me was high-end. Greyson Tides had money at his disposal, time on his hands, and a smirk that burned through me like the tongue of my stranger on my skin.

I rushed to my cabinets, pulling open the drawer where I kept every note the stranger had left me. And the note from Greyson. Holding tight to the newest note, I held Greyson’s up to it, inhaling sharply as I saw the similarities.

Dropping the notes, I backed up. Greyson Tides was my stranger. I should have seen it earlier, never understanding how my stranger could enter my apartment and forgetting that Greyson had decorated it while I wasn’t there. He had to have a key. My stranger had never broken in. There was never a sign of forced entry. That was why his touch was familiar and the scent that filled my senses when he came to me. It was Greyson all along.

I sat on my bed, trying to reconcile the fact that both men who infatuated me were the same man. Greyson had been the one to bring me to ecstasy each time. His touch was the one I was craving every night. Chewing my lip, I looked back at the dress. He was playing a game, and I wondered why he’d gone to so much trouble. Maybe he just had strange fetishes…but he’d stated I was his in his office. Claiming me. I thought of the way he’d lifted my skirt, his hand running up my thigh, and how familiar his touch was. It had been a blatant show of power, a sign he expected I wouldn’t see. All this time, he’d been toying with me, letting me crave him while taking a taste of me. Watching me, knowing my every like and dislike. I thought of the first time I’d met him, thinking it was a coincidence. It hadn’t been. He’d been following me even that early, claiming his stake on me that first day.

Standing, I picked up the dress. If Greyson wanted to play a game, it was time to play along with him. I should have been angry, but everything about this situation went against my rational thoughts. Greyson Tides went against them. I’d wanted him from the moment his blue eyes met mine. I’d wanted him when he’d claimed I was his and that he’d kill anyone who touched me. I’d wanted him when he had me tied up and writhing against his tongue. I still wanted him, but this time, I wanted him on my terms, and I wanted all of him. The game was about to become mine.

I took my time getting ready, thinking through my plan as I did. The dress fit perfectly. It flowed to cover my feet, leaving just the sparkly tips of the stilettos showing. The back dipped dangerously low, and I was glad my breasts were small because I couldn’t wear a bra. I could have used something for support, but Greyson had started a game I intended to play. Seeing his reaction to my free breasts seemed like something worth risking. I piled my hair up in an elegant bun, leaving long wisps free. I looked like a princess from a fairy tale…my fairy tale. If only I could show Ava…shit, wait until she found out Greyson Tides wanted me. I hadn’t told her about my stranger. I wasn’t sure how she would react, and the fact that I’d continued to let him play was warped beyond any understanding I could attribute to anyone hearing the story.

If Greyson desired me, he was going to have me. And after tonight, if I had my way, he’d have me completely because when I was through, I would own Greyson as much as he wanted to own me.

I was matting my lip gloss when my phone buzzed.

Greyson Tides.

Damn, how had he put his number in my phone? And how had I not noticed? The message simply said a car was waiting for me. A car? He’d even sent a car for me. I rummaged through my closet for something pretty to cover my shoulders from the cold. I had nothing that would work, but my scarves caught my eye. Their extra-long length had made them perfect for tying me up, an act that juxtaposed the memory and delicate beauty of them. They’d now come to represent a forbidden affair, one that toed the line of criminal only because I had invited it. To anyone else, it would be grounds for prison time. But I wasn’t anyone else, and neither was Greyson Tides. Shrugging, I grabbed them and layered them before draping them elegantly around my shoulders. They hung the perfect length down the front of the dress, as any other wrap would. I touched the top one, noting how the rich red hue complimented the blue in the dress. My heart beat at the overt sign, and I wondered if he’d play along or if my boldness would make him step back. He didn’t strike me as the type of man to back away so easily from a game he’d brazenly started, one he’d determined he’d already won.

Giving myself a last glance in the mirror, I rushed from the apartment and down to the black sedan that was waiting on the curb. The driver nodded to me and opened the door. I felt like a princess on her way to the ball. He’d even cleared a path in the snow so my shoes wouldn’t get wet. As I settled into the seat, I wondered if that had been Greyson’s instructions or just a thoughtful gesture from the driver.

I rested my head against the seat, my stomach a bundle of nerves. Thoughts of Greyson and everything he’d done since I first arrived filled my head. From saving my purse to decorating my apartment to sneaking in my apartment and pleasuring me. Anger should have been the emotion I was feeling, but he’d done nothing to hurt me. I knew hurt. I knew betrayal. I knew fear. And nothing he’d done had brought me any of those emotions. Once I trusted that he wouldn’t hurt me, I’d invited him to touch me. I’d invited him into my life.

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