Page 48 of Grave Obsession

I turn and run after Nox, screaming his name. His truck jolts to a stop and he rolls down his window.

“My stuff…it’s all in my car,” I pant out. Clearly I need to up my cardio. A sinister smirk pulls at his lips.

“Mhmm,” he murmurs

“Nox this isn’t funny, I don’t even have my car. I have to work in the morning!” The bastard has the audacity to chuckle at my meltdown.

“I guess we will be seeing each other again real soon then, hmmm?” he utters through a full mouth smile.

“Was this your plan all along?” I accuse and he just fucking beams at me. Oh, this asshole.

“While this is a completely over-the-top adorable way to ensure that you’ll see me again, I don’t even have my keys or phone.”

“Oh…” he ponders for a moment before saying, “Do you need my help, sweetheart?”

“I’m not having you drive me all the way back to the hotel,” I reply

“Did you get an alarm system?”

What kind of question is that? “No, just cameras.”

He nods, seemingly deep in thought. “I can pick the lock for you,” he says matter of factly.

“Breaking and entering? Now that’s not a very good look for a cop,” I tease.

“I told you, messed up past, remember? Now, do you want my help or not?”

“Yes, please.”

I hear the truck shift into 'park' as he rummages through the glove box, then he exits the beast of a vehicle.

“Good girl,” he whispers against my cheek and he plants a quick peck on it. My insides melt and drip out into my leggings. Why does he have to be so damn delicious?

He strides up to my door and pulls out a small kit full of tools. Why the fuck does he just carry that around in his truck? Lock picking kits can’t be legal…right? I opt to not ask. He’s very focused on what he’s doing, green eyes honed in on the keyhole, he’s holding his breath as silence engulfs us. Then there’s a click and he smiles. He turns the knob and the door swings open. He extends his arm, welcoming me home, and bows like some extravagant castle greeter. He’s so quirky sometimes and it just makes me fall harder.

“My hero,” I joke. His head rises, eyes darkening as they lock with mine.

“Always,” he growls.

Then he’s on me. Pushing me against the door frame and smashing his mouth against mine. This isn’t soft and sweet, it’s a total devouring. His passion tangles with mine as his hands grip my hips and pull me against him. He consumes my very being as his mouth moves against mine. That predator I got a peek at before has reappeared in full force. Finally.

My cunt is so fucking thirsty for him, she’s crying. I grab his belt and start to undo it. I get his zipper down and palm his enormous cock over his underwear. He groans into my mouth as he absorbs the pleasure I bring him. Then he pulls away as if I’ve burned him the second I get the head of his dick out from under the band of his shorts.

Awkward silence threatens to smother me as his rejection sets fire to all of my self confidence.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I forgot.”

“You’ll get my cock…just not tonight, sweetheart,” he says as he rights his pants. He won’t even look at me. His dismissal of my advances sting. It’s comparable to ripping off a scab of a healing wound, reopening the laceration of something you thought was healing.

I don’t know what to say or do so I choose silence instead. I want to be alone.

Nox leans down to kiss my forehead, “See you in the morning, babe.”

“Bye,” I whisper. I shouldn’t dread the morning to come, but I do.

I stand on my doorstep long after he has left, gazing out into the night, waiting for Ghost to appear, but he doesn’t. I’ve been effectively rejected by both of them tonight.

I lock the door and trudge my ass down the hall to my room. Every inch of this house is crawling with memories of them. Even after this very short amount of time, I see them everywhere. A quiet groan turns into a cathartic shriek as I expel all my emotions. Feelings pour out of me in torrents as I collapse into a bed that smells like Ghost. He’s fucking everywhere and it makes my head spin. I rip every sheet, pillowcase and blanket off my bed and spray my perfume onto the mattress. I redress my bed in things that don’t smell like my stalker. I glance to my floor and see my favourite blanket that undoubtedly smells like him. I sigh, bummed out and frustrated.

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