Page 69 of Obsession

“Huh?” I raised my eyebrows.

He reached out his hand and touched what was left of the red dot on my arm with his fingertip. Suddenly I remembered the dizziness that seemed to have disappeared due to the aphrodisiac effect he had on me.

“I need another dose,” I whispered and closed my eyes.

I didn’t want to test my resistance again.

Without another word, he opened the glove compartment and pulled out a few items. A spoon, a lighter and a wrapped syringe. He fished a small packet filled with white dust out of his jeans, then tore open the plastic with his teeth, poured the contents into the spoon and lit the lighter underneath.

I watched in fascination as he prepared my drug, the poison which I readily accepted.

“How long have you been using?” I asked, watching the dust turn into a brownish liquid.

Did I need to mention that he was doing all this with his shirt off? It was fucking hard to concentrate because of it.

“Five years,” he replied without hesitation.

My mouth fell open.

“Have you ever tried to… quit?” I continued.

Five years, but he didn’t even look like a drug addict.

“Yeah, but I’m not really an addict. I have plenty of ways to get my adrenaline pumping when I need it.”

I stared at him; my eyebrow arched questioningly. What other methods were there? His gaze drifted to the dashboard of the car. I blinked in shock. He was already driving like a maniac; I didn’t even want to imagine how he drove when he needed adrenaline.

“That and other things, but let’s just say speed is the best drug for me,” he admitted with amusement, winking at me as he sucked the liquid into the sterile syringe.

I was glad he wasn’t using an old needle. Most drug addicts didn’t give a damn about such things. The syringe was tiny, and there couldn’t have been more than ten drops of poisoning energy in it. He shook it gently and carefully checked the brown liquid.

My mouth went dry as I watched him.

“Can you get dressed already?” I blurted out in frustration.

He grinned.

“And stifle all those hungry looks you’re giving me?”

I pressed my lips together to keep from cursing him and his damn muscles.

He reached for me, grabbed my arm, and lightly stroked the spot with his finger. He looked into my eyes, almost as if he was waiting for confirmation, and I nodded. The needle pierced my skin and pumped life into my veins, even if it was just deceiving death.

I felt nothing as his hands were surprisingly gentle. To distract myself, I examined his tattoos, apparently tribal markings of some kind. Then my attention went in a whole different direction, a wrong one.

Those fingers were so incredibly sexy.

I wanted them in… fuck! I bit my lip and shook my head.

His eyes darted to me.

“Does it hurt?” he whispered.

I denied.

If you only knew what goes through my mind.

“Then why are you shaking?”

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