Page 71 of Endless Obsession

I feel almost obsessed with talking to Venom, with finding out what outrageous fantasy he’ll tell me, how far he’ll push it, how far I’ll let him. As I come down from the high of my orgasm, the fact of that obsession hits me, and I feel a wave of post-orgasm clarity and regret.

I send Ivan away for this. He was a gentleman today, a perfect date, everything I could have asked for and more. I felt how desperately he wanted me, rode his erection to a mind-bending orgasm, and then left him hanging. I could have taken him up to my apartment instead, had real, undoubtedly incredible sex, for the first time since Nate and I broke up. I could have him in my bed right now.

Instead I’ve been online, with a faceless man who could actually be anyone, digging deeper into a darker side of myself that I can’t seem to stop exploring. It makes me feel freer than I ever have before—but I also feel ashamed. Not of what I’m finding out that I want, but of the fact that I chose it over Ivan. He’s real, and this man isn’t. Not in any way that matters.

On impulse, as I come back from cleaning up, I grab my phone. It’s late, and I’m not sure Ivan will be up, but I call him anyway. To my surprise, he picks up almost immediately.

“Charlotte?”

“Hey.” I sink back onto my bed, unsure of what I’m doing, or why I’m doing it. “I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

He chuckles. “You don’t need to worry. I’m a night owl. What are you doing?”

“Thinking about that apple pie we never actually tried. It’s on the counter—I felt bad trying it without you.”

“Is that your way of asking me out on another date?”

I bite my lip, toying with a loose thread on my duvet. “Maybe.”

“What if I said I wanted that date tomorrow?”

“I have brunch with my girlfriends on Sundays,” I tell him quickly. “I can’t ditch them. They’d never let me live it down, if I canceled on them for a man.”

“As well they should.” His voice is deep and rich, teasing, with that hint of a Russian accent that makes me feel shivery. “Is brunch all day?”

Something tightens in my stomach—I think I can hear something in his voice, a need that I can’t help but think I must be imagining. A man like Ivan wouldn’t need to see me again, but that’s what it sounds like. Like he doesn’t want to wait.

“No,” I say slowly, almost hesitantly. There’s something pinging in my head, a sense of alarm, something telling me that there’s danger here. But I think I know what that danger is.

I could lose myself to Ivan. My body, my emotions, my heart—they’re all in danger, because he’s something I’ve never encountered before. A man who seems to be everything I could possibly want, and it all feels too good to be true. “Maybe, like—until one or two in the afternoon?”

“What about a hike afterward, then? And dinner? Someplace more casual than the last dinner I took you to, since I know now you like that more.” There’s warmth in his voice as he suggests it, but I can still hear that need, as insane as it seems. “Maybe I can convince you to let me come up for a taste of that apple pie for dessert.”

I bite my lip, a jolt of heat going through me. I’m not sure he’s really talking about the pie. But that doesn’t stop me from whispering yes. It might even be part of the reason why I do.

“Yes,” I repeat. “That sounds nice. I can text you where we end up going for brunch tomorrow, so you can pick me up afterward. An easy hike, maybe,” I caution with a laugh. “I don’t know if I want to do anything crazy after mimosas.”

“Nothing crazy,” he promises. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

I stare at my phone for a long time after we hang up. I can’t help wondering if I should have agreed to the date, if I should have made him wait longer, if I should have made myself wait longer. I feel another jab of guilt as I think of Venom, and I wonder if I’m stringing Ivan along by doing this without committing to a relationship. I can still hear him in my head, telling me that once I figure things out, that will be it for us both. It was such a bold declaration, so final, like nothing any man has ever said to me before. No one has ever wanted me as much as Ivan seems to.

It’s what I thought I wanted—but it’s also terrifying, intense and scary, and it makes me want to run towards him and away from him all at once.

I wanted to give myself a chance to indulge this wild side that I’m discovering before I commit to a relationship again. And it’s not as if I’m stringing Ivan along with something that could ever be anything real. Venom will only ever be what he is—a name on a screen, a fantasy typed out a handful of words at a time.

Ivan said he’d let me do this at my own pace. That he’d be patient with my uncertainty.

Now, I’m starting to feel like I’m counting on that.

—

When I pick up my phone in the morning, getting ready for brunch, it’s not Ivan’s name that I see on the screen first. He’s there, his name followed by a quick good morning, sweetheart, I can’t wait to see you later—but it’s preceded by a string of texts from Nate, each one making my stomach drop further than the last.

Nate: I can’t believe you haven’t texted or called. Did five years really mean nothing to you?

Nate: It was just fucking sex, Char. Just sex with a whore I didn’t care about. And you threw our whole fucking relationship away over it.

Nate: You’re pathetic, honestly. Acting like a child, throwing me out of our apartment because you couldn’t handle me treating you with respect. Like a woman I wanted to marry instead of a fucking slut.

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