Page 44 of Carved Obsession
“Oh, spare me. I can’t believe the bastard sent his girlfriend to collect for him.”
She sighs before she continues.“I’m the last resort before he comes at you. He’s changing, Scar, and I don’t want you to be in the crossfire. And he and I...we’ll never be able to marry if he’s legally tied to you.”
Marriage? What the actual fuck.
“First of all, don’t ever dare to call me by my fucking nickname. You don’t deserve it. Second of all—let him fucking come. What’s he gonna do? Torture me to get his way?” I laugh. “We both know that’s not gonna work on me. And threatening my fucking parents with violence is just plain disrespectful.”
“That’s not why I’m calling, Scarlet. I want to warn you. He has something on you...leverage.”
Oh, give me a break.
“Fuck him and his leverage! We all have goddamn leverage on each other. Did he suddenly forget what he does for a living? I certainly didn’t. He’s not getting shit from me. He kissed my generosity goodbye the moment his lips touched yours. Now leave me the fuck alone, or I swear to God, when I’m done with him, I won’t need a divorce anymore and you’ll have to find someone else’s husband to fuck.”
I hang up, slamming my phone face down on the tray. Took some self-control not to throw that thing into the nearest tree and smash it to bits. Again.
“It was a good fucking day, and then they go and ruin it,” I scream at myself as I get out of the pond, grab my stuff, and storm inside the house.
I’m throwing everything as I walk to my bedroom, struggling to forget about that wretched word seeping like tar through my thoughts—leverage.
There’s no way he has something that can be proven. That can stick against me.
No fucking way.
“Ughh goddamn it!” I grab the closest thing to me and smash it against the wall in one swift move. It crashes and breaks into pieces that scatter all over the floor.
Shit, I liked that flamingo lamp . . .
I think it’s time to cheer myself up. And I have just the solution.
Chapter 12
Carter
Jonathan’s office in the back of his and his husband’s antique shop has always been an oddly comforting place for me. Being surrounded by gold-framed old paintings, antiques, and books weathered by time gives me a deep sense of calm. Peace.
Not now, though. Not after watching the camera feed from Scarlet’s bedroom earlier today. I’m biting the inside of my lip, I can’t stop tapping my foot, and I’m itching to get out of here to find out what got her so angry.
This flip in attitude holds my thoughts hostage from my current environment. And it’s been happening all day. The moment I opened my eyes, when the sun was still breaching the horizon, I picked up my phone to see what she was doing. I watched her sleep, sprawled right in the middle of the bed like she was taking advantage of every free inch the mattress had to offer.
While brushing my teeth, I still watched her. While I worked out in my gym. While taking my morning shower I used for much more than washing. Once again, with my hand firmly wrapped around my cock.
I couldn’t. Fucking. Stop.
Then I powered on my system and opened her camera feed there. Not on one of the side screens, but dead center in front of me. Thirty-five inches of Scarlet.
She woke up like the sun rose only for her. Throwing the covers off, she revealed her naked body to me, save for a delicate scrap of fabric that covered the most intimate part of her. She turned on music via the speaker by the bed, and then the madwoman danced.
And I stopped working.
It was a spell.
Dark magic laced with creamy skin and the hypnotizing mystery of a woman. She was a kaleidoscope of color splashed all over my screen. Ihad tokeep watching. It felt like a unicorn experience, one I hoped wouldn’t be unique, but I couldn’t blink in case its beauty never again graced my gaze.
Hair tied in two messy buns at the top of her head, she danced like the world was hers. She threw on some casual clothes, several times bumping, maybe a tad too hard, against the wood frame of her bed. It didn’t seem to faze her or slow her down.
She was in and out of the feed throughout the day, cheerful and bright.
Until later on, when she rolled through like a fiery storm with thunderous eyes and strained muscles, throwing everything in her sight. She changed into plain black, tightening the buns at the top of her head before she disappeared. Too much time has passed since, and I can’t fucking stop thinking about it all. About her.
