Page 19 of King of Obsession

Her slender fingers touched the ignition, coaxing the engine to life.

My eyes locked on her as she pulled out onto the dirt track, gravel spraying. I leaned back and fixed my eyes on her, my Sig tight in my hand.

The road unspooled ahead of us, the dense forest giving way to rolling hills painted in the hues of a dying sun.

Exhaustion tugged at me, but I resisted its siren call.

I tried to focus on the landscape. But my eyes kept straying to her profile, flicking over the elegant lines of her nape.

To the stray wisps of hair curled against her neck and how the fading light caressed her skin.

Up close, she was the most fuckin’ beautiful thing I’d ever seen, regardless of her being disheveled and splattered with my blood.

I tamped back the desire to reach out and pull her into the backseat with me and plumb her senselessness until we both forgot our names.

Damn, I was torn.

On the one hand, I wanted to tear off her clothes and bury my cock in her.

On the other, once Franco was taken care of, I’d need to walk away from her.

The fuckin’ problem was what I was going to do with her afterward.

My mind whirled, but truth be told, I needed to close my eyes.

Fatigue was claiming me, the blood loss and shock taking their toll.

I slipped into unconsciousness, my Sig slipping from my bloodied hands as I slumped into my seat, and everything went black.

Chapter 5

CLEO

It was him.

It had always been him.

In the shadows and folds of my life.

Since his power-driven arms had wrapped around me that fateful night in Naples, I’d felt his presence with me, haunting me.

Those golden, unyielding, blazing eyes, that dark blonde mane, and his leonine gruff aura had remained on the periphery of my senses, just out of reach.

In some moments, I’d sensed him in the street or about a corner, those flaming eyes on me.

I’d thought it a figment of my imagination, but then again, he’d appeared so real.

But never had I come so close to his fullness and manhood.

For he wasall man.

6’2, hard, muscled, lean, and angular, with thick thighs and tapered legs.

My eyes flickered over his shoulder-length, salon-styled dark gold, lustrous hair highlighted in amber and copper, groomed mustache and beard, and the bulk of muscle he carried.

Freakin’ like the devil himself in a snug inky tee, black jeans, and feet in high-spec hiking boots.

But those eyes made my breath hitch, recalling them from so long ago.

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