Page 92 of Blades of Obsession

I almost want to facepalm. Does she think I’d drive six hours simply for tickets to a show? I mean, yeah, I probably would’ve for her… but still. “No.” I point to the dress forms in the corner. “Look over there.”

Her gaze follows my finger, and she gasps, her mouth hanging open. “What are my dresses doing here?! Is this my new workspace?”

“You must put all your brain power into fashion because you sure aren’t great at putting two and two together,” I tease.

A lightbulb goes off in her head, and her eyes light up with realization. She spins to face me, nearly toppling over, and I reach out to steady her. “Nuh-uh. You didn’t! I… I’m in the show?!”

Before I can even answer, she throws herself into my arms, wrapping them tightly around me. I can feel her infectious excitement as I gently rub her back through the hug.

“Wait…” She pulls away. “Did you force them to show my designs? Because I know you.”

I chuckle. “That does sound like something I’d do, huh?”

“Aiden!” She smacks my chest, and I relish in the sound of her saying my name. It erases all the bad memories of my mom saying it and replaces them with a sound that I’d love to hear until the day I die. “You shouldn’t have made them do that! Oh my God, I have to go apologize. They’re gonna—”

“I didn’t,” I stop her rambling. “That was a joke. I showed the coordinator some of your dresses. She loved them and said she had to show them. But just FYI, if she had said no,thenI would’ve forced her.”

Her eyes sparkle and well up with tears as she kisses my cheek. “Thank you. No one has ever… done something so nice for me before. You always do these grand gestures, sometimes I feel unworthy.”

Unworthy?

She deserves everything—the moon, the stars, the entire fucking universe in the palm of her hand. For nothing more than simply existing. But since I can’t give her those, I’ll give her everything I have, my unwavering support, every beat of my heart, every part of me, hoping that’s enough for her.

I lift her chin. “And sometimes I feel unworthy to be with a kind, beautiful, perfect girl like you. So I spend my time proving that I deserve you, and if that means getting your fashion designs into a show, so be it.”

She’s about to say something when Anna, the coordinator, comes up to us with a bright smile and a clipboard. “Hello. I’ve been meaning to meet you, Amelia.” She shakes her hand, and then gives her a few papers from the clipboard.

“Nice to meet you.”

Anna and Amelia talk for a little while, and she fills Amelia in about the show. It’s set to happen here in about five weeks, with some of the best-scouted fashion designers in the country. There’ll also be plenty of talent agents, looking to sign deals with up-and-coming designers.

A minute after Anna leaves, my phone buzzes with a text, and I glance down to check it.

Anna: The payment of $200,000 has been received for your wife’s placement in the show. DO NOT file it on your taxes. Thank you.

I put my phone away and suddenly get an idea.

“You have a meeting with an executive here in—” I check my watch. “—seven minutes. Remember our game from the mall and how we postponed it?”

Amelia bites her lip, nodding. “I’ve already picked out my reward too.”

“Oh, really?” I can feel my pupils dilating. “You have seven minutes. We’ll see.”

I lead her to a nearby coat closet, the memory of that day from the mall flashing through my mind—making her come all over my fingers, covering her mouth with my hand, forcing two orgasms from her. My dick twitches at the thought, already getting hard.

The closet is dimly lit, but there’s just enough light filtering through to make out facial features and find our way around.

She wastes no time. Dropping to her knees, she pulls out my growing cock. My breath hitches as her cold hands palm my balls, making my hips jerk, but she holds me steady, her other hand pressed firmly on my thigh.

She starts slow, swirling her tongue around the tip while stroking the base. Then she gets more into it, taking me inch by inch into her wet, warm mouth. As her lips wrap around me, I tangle my fingers in her hair, gripping tighter with each passing second. Her tongue slides over the head, wicked, teasing, and the pressure of her sucking me in makes my vision blur.

Fuck.

The pleasure builds, and I can’t help the low groan that escapes. I bite my bottom lip, trying to keep quiet—if they catch us, they’d probably return the money and cancel the deal—but the intensity of her mouth makes it impossible.

She sucks my cock down her throat like her life depends on it, keeping a steady pace, bobbing her head over the entire length. Taking me all in, then going back out, and all in again.

I stumble forward, barely catching myself on the wall in front of me. She removes her mouth with a ‘pop’ sound so she can lick over my balls, spit drooling down her chin before she takes me back in.

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