Page 10 of Obsession

I rested my forehead against the screen. The spray off the water soaked into my skin and the faded cotton tank I wore to bed.

They’d turned the gas off this afternoon and air conditioning was a thing of the past. I should count my lucky stars about the warm snap. All too soon, the cold would settle in, and I’d be layering up with fisherman’s sweaters to survive.

If I didn’t get kicked out first.

My nipples tightened as the cold front battling with the warm won out. Was that because of the air or because the idea of getting kicked out ended in thoughts of Blake Carson?

His hazel eyes had chased me into dreams for the few hours I’d managed to sleep. The first crack of thunder had saved me from whatever shenanigans my subconscious was trying to start.

He was the enemy.

I had to remember that.

No matter what my poor, neglected breasts thought aboutthatsubject.

The mist turned into an all-out downpour, and finally, I had to step back. My clothes stuck to me, and I shivered against the brutal wind. I crossed my arms, and again, my breasts reacted. Where was the fairness in this? Even an innocent brush against the tight tips made me moan.

I could count on one hand the number of times I’d been wound up like this. To the point that I’ve often wondered if something was wrong with me. I’d never had that indefinable pull to get horizontal with anyone. The moments of lonelinesshad pushed me into accepting a few dinner dates, but the lack of chemistry had fizzled any action I’d been tempted to take.

One lover in college and one since I’d graduated had been enough to convince me I just wasn’t a sexual woman.

Ten minutes with Blake Carson was not the kind of reassessment I was looking for. In fact, it was dangerous. I had to remember that today when I reported for work. I flicked on the light switch as I entered the kitchen.

Nothing.

“Fuck.”

Evidently, they’d cut the power now too.

“Dammit.” I ducked through the narrow hallway to the maid’s quarters. I’d been staying in my studio most nights, but it looked like that was going to be out of necessity now instead of insomnia.

I slipped out the side door and held my hand up against the rain ripping at my cheeks. I had to pray there was kerosene in the generator.

My hands fell to my sides as I glanced around. What the hell? The larger generator was gone.

When had that happened?

I tipped back my head and swiped back my hair. I rushed to the garage, my bare feet currently blocks of ice thanks to the dropping temperatures. My fingers shook over the access panel and finally, the stupid thing opened.

Thank you, battery power.

The smaller generator was still in the corner, but it was way too heavy to carry. I spotted my old Red Flyer hanging from a hook. I monkeyed my way up onto a shelf and managed to get it down.

Perfect.

Getting it onto the stupid wagon was a bit more of a challenge. Three broken nails and a swollen toe later, it wasbalanced on the lip. The trip across the driveway was slow and the puddles were growing into small ponds. The sandy incline couldn’t hold up against the relentless rain.

I was ankle deep in water by the time I’d pushed it up the small incline to the side of the house. I’d bought the generator for my workshop before we’d upgraded to the bigger model. Either it had been stolen, or my grandmother had sold it.

Just the idea of her having to actually put an ad in the paper or spread the word that she was selling such a pedestrian item made my stomach hurt.

Why hadn’t she come to me?

I wasn’t sure when the rain had blended into tears, but I was sniffling as I found the old hookups and connected them. The skyline was lightening when I finally got the stupid thing to start. All I wanted was a hot shower, and that was definitely not going to happen. There was no way I could wait for the ancient water heater to warm up.

I turned the taps on the hottest setting and prayed that the tepid water would last through a shower. I’d take the room temperature water over the cold, at least.

Luck was not with me.

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