Page 20 of Hunted Obsession

Well, my windshield.

I don’t think he can see me from that distance. Thankfully. Because he’s looking right at me. I hold my breath again, thinking he can see me. When he closes his eyes and tilts his head backward, I know he doesn’t. He’s enjoying what she’s doing, and I hate myself for being turned on, not because of her, but just watching him.

He’s so beautiful, so sexy. And I remember that look on his face when I was on my knees for him. Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, I clench my thighs together and shake my head.

I need to get home.

Now.

Chapter Nine

LUCILLE

When I open my computer,I find my email app and click on it. Then I find the email from the background search and click on that. I put in my password and wait for the information to appear. It doesn’t take long, thankfully, because I am seriously on edge.

Asher Grant.

One divorce.

One daughter.

One nightclub… and ties to some men’s names that look seriously shady as hell. I don’t know who they are, but just their names make me think they are up to no good.

Not any good at all.

I write their names down, although if they’re tied to Asher, I’m assuming I won’t be able to find anything on them without paying for it, either, which makes me think they are into some gnarly shit.

But Emmie is his daughter. Right there, in black and white. Interesting. I’m thinking this could mean more than it should.I don’t know why, but it feels very intense. Standing from the computer, I walk to my kitchen and pour myself a glass of red wine.

I need something to deal with whatever this is. I need something to relax me so I can figure it out. Emmie and Asher are a puzzle, and I need to know how they fit together. My phone buzzes in my back pocket, and I take it out.

A notification for my fake social media page. I smile as I slide my thumb across the screen and look at the comment. It’s a reply—a reply to the comment that I made on Emmie’s picture of her hair.

So cute! Queen!!

She loves the comment, and her reply is below.

Thanks!!! My man LOVVVVVED it!

With a snort, I glance at the time. It’s only been thirty minutes since I left her place, and she was on her knees. He was fully clothed and hadn’t even touched her yet. I can’t imagine what they did in that short amount of time, but there is no way she had more than one orgasm.

What a shame because if I recall, and I do… every single detail, Theron usually gave more than two orgasms a night. We would have quick and intense sex, then we would slowly work ourselves back up again, and finally, we would clean up with one more for each of us. I understand that he’s older now, but I can’t imagine that man would ever lose his stamina.

Ever.

She’s not doing something right if he’s not staying with her for hours. Either he isn’t getting what he wants, or worse, he’sgetting everything he wants, and he’s not overimpressed, which bodes the question of why he’s with her to begin with.

Loving her comment, I shove my phone back in my pocket and make my way back to the sofa with my glass of wine in hand. I stare at the computer screen, tilting my head to the side as I shake thoughts of Theron and orgasms out of my head and attempt to focus on the task at hand.

Ruining Emmie Grant.

Clicking on her name, I read the information provided. It’s the same shit that I could find for free, but then something catches my eye. I pause at her school history. She didn’t go to college. In fact, she didn’t even graduate high school. And if she did, there is no record of it.

So, how does one get a job at a prestigious shishi lala art gallery with zero education? I mean, maybe her father created a fake education for her. It wouldn’t be unheard of. But something irks me about that.

Then it hits me.

Who the fuck owns that art gallery?

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