Page 9 of My Wildest Obsession

I’m so fucked.

“And two bottles of water,” Clara finishes. “Perfect. Thanks.”

She hangs up and I spin around in my chair, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Thirty minutes. I charged it to your card.”

“Of course.”

“Want to watch a movie or something?” She asks as she starts to flip through the channels.

“No, I have a lot of work to do.”

“Uh huh,” she says, distracted.

I go back to my work, the only sound in the room coming from the TV and Clara occasionally giggling on the bed behind me.

I don’t get a single thing done.

When the food comes, I give up on trying to get anything done and tuck all of my papers back in my briefcase for the night.

“Looks good,” I comment, and Clara nods, taking a bite of her chocolate cake.

I bite back a smile as I grab my own plate and join her at the table. We eat in silence, but it’s not uncomfortable, at least not for me.

No, the uncomfortableness comes once we’re done eating.

It’s time for bed and all I can do is stare at the king size mattress. Clara is busy brushing her teeth, and I shake out my hands, trying to calm my nerves.

The door opens behind me and I push past Clara and slam the bathroom door closed before she can see how worried I am about us sleeping together.

I stare at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, resting my hands on the vanity as I take a deep breath.

Okay, I can’t deny that I want her. I always have. I’ve always been able to control myself though and tonight isn’t going to be any different.

My phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out, smiling when I see Anson’s name on the screen.

“Hey, what’s up?” I ask as I answer it.

“It’s nice to hear your voice too,” he deadpans.

“You never call me.”

“Yeah, because our calls go like this.”

“Fair enough. What’s up?”

“Your aunt called me. Wanted to know how you were doing.”

“Yeah, she called me too.”

“Oh, so you’ve already talked to her then.”

“No, I ignored her call. Clara talked to her though.”

“What the heck is wrong with you, man?” he sighs, and I push away from the sink.

“How much time do you have?” I ask wryly.

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