Page 34 of His Secret Obsession

He gives me an incredulous look. “What kind of monster do you think I am? Of course.”

Shaking my head, I laugh before slipping out of his bedroom and into the shower. The warm water feels so good pelting against my back that I close my eyes and moan. I squirt a handful of soap onto my loofah, my thoughts wandering back to the feeling of his erection pressed against me this morning.

I wonder what he would have done if I had wrapped my hand around his cock. What if I had turned around and thrown my leg over his hips? Would he have woken up and ground his erection against me? Slipped his fingers under the waistband of my borrowed sweatpants to find out if I was wet?

The loofah tumbles out of my hands and lands on the shower floor beneath me. The white, sudsy soap swirls around my feet before sliding down the drain. I make no move to pick it back up. Instead, I let my fingers trail down my breasts, where I lightly scrape my fingernails around my pebbled nipples. After a few minutes, when I can’t ignore the light throbbing of my clit anymore, my hand glides down my belly and between my thighs.

A quiet hiss escapes me at the first brush of my fingers against my slippery clit. I pretend that it’s Jax’s fingers doing all the work. His warm, naked body is pressed against mine as his arm snakes around my front to dip between my legs. His index finger strokes around my clit in teasing circles, and I buck my hips.

“Jax, please.”

His throaty chuckle against my ear is deviant and wicked. The sound sends a wave of tingles down my spine, and I lean back against him with a demanding whimper.

“You’re being such a good girl for me, Maddie.”

“Oh god,” I gasp the words, my breathing coming out a little faster as my fingers speed up. A low, simmering heat gathers in my belly. With each stroke against my throbbing clit, it grows.Biting my bottom lip, I stifle back a moan. The exquisite pleasure continues to build and build…

In no time at all, my pleasure reaches its crescendo and my pussy clenches as my climax washes over me. My mouth falls open on a silent cry as I ride the waves. My eyes pop back open, my hands still between my legs as my pounding heart slows back to normal. From downstairs comes the faint clatter of a frying pan as it tumbles to the tiled floor.

Even though the water is turning cool, I’m reluctant to get out and dry off. Part of me wants to stay inside my little fantasy, the one I just created where being with Jax won’t hurt anybody else. It won’t pull apart a family, destroy what’s left of a friendship, or make the entire town stare at us with their silent judgment.

But I want him—the real him—in a way I never have before.

“I’m so fucked.”

After running a towel over my wet hair, I decide to let it air dry. It’s not like the snow is going to melt enough to leave the house today anyway, right? Shrugging, I slide my brush through the tangled strands and don my own clothes again. Then I pull on my favorite t-shirt—a worn gray shirt that says ‘Crestwood Heights University’—and a pair of soft, leopard print joggers.

Peering out my bedroom window, I pause at the piles of snow blanketing the yard. Something about the wintry landscape makes the world feel radio silent. It’s impossible to guess from here, but it looks like we got at least three feet. Other than a few tire tracks in the driveway, it’s completely undisturbed. The fluffy clouds overhead block out the sunlight, while the branchesof the nearby trees sag from the weight of its accumulation. Alongside the house, icicles adorn the edges of the gutters.

I tense, waiting for the inevitable panic to consume me. For my heart to begin racing and my breaths to stutter. For my mind to conjure up images of that wretched day.

Only…it doesn’t come.

I blink, remembering again how Jax came to my rescue last night. How tenderly he took care of me and how utterly safe I felt. Maybe something inside me healed a little bit when I had my own accident and nothing bad happened. When I let him help me through my panic attack and take care of me afterwards.

The corners of my lips tug into a smile at the thought.

I’m not naive enough to think that the sight of snow will never incite panic again, but it feels damn good to stare at it now and not be overwhelmed with the urge to cower.

“Breakfast is ready!”

Jax’s voice yelling at me from the kitchen pulls me from my thoughts, along with the gurgles of the coffee pot. Still feeling relaxed after my shower, I slowly make my way into the kitchen where a plated omelet awaits me. Pouring a cup of coffee, I carefully balance both and move towards the table. My feet pause as sounds from the living room TV reach my ears. I nibble on my bottom lip, warring with my indecision. Should I join him? Would he even want me to? Is spending more time with him asking for trouble?

The sound of his soft chuckle makes my decision for me, and I move into the living room. Jax’s head pops up as I approach, and his smile slips. The heated, appraising look he gives me has a shiver racing down my spine. I ignore it.

“Can I sit with you?” I shuffle awkwardly, resisting the urge to cringe. God, how stupid and needy did that sound? Did I just say“can I sit with you?”like a hormonal teenager pining after her crush in the school cafeteria?

He smiles softly, giving me an affectionate look before jerking his chin toward the empty spot next to him. His lips wrap around the edge of his coffee mug, his throat working as he swallows. One arm is thrown along the back of the couch, his knees spread apart. I swallow, heat infusing my cheeks as those emerald irises’ casually study me from the corner of his eye.

I clear my throat. “What are you watching?”

He rubs the back of his neck, his attention returning to the TV as the pet food commercial transitions back into the showLove it or List it.

My fingers tighten their grip on my fork, my eyes darting towards the TV. Nostalgia washes over me at the familiar sight of Hilary Farr and David Visentin, the best friend duo who compete against each other on the HGTV reality show. David, a realtor, attempts to find unhappy homeowners a more suitable house on the market while Hilary, an interior designer, attempts to spruce their home up so that the couple won’t want to leave. Heat tickles the corners of my eyes, and I rapidly blink away the impending tears.

Not right now, Maddie. Don’t ruin the moment.

“Maddie?” The concern in Jax’s voice has my gaze snapping towards him as he leans forward with furrowed brows. “What’s wrong?”

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