Volatile Obsessions by Dee Garcia (44)

Dripping wet, he carries me through the house and up the stairs, his lips working against mine, tongue lashing viciously in and out of my mouth. It’s like he can’t get enough of me, desperate for another fix, another high. I can’t lie and say it’s not the same for me, ‘cause it is. God, it is. His mouth can do some deliciously wicked things and I want it all over me. Correction—I want him all over me; on me, in me, everywhere. I want him to consume me, to suffocate me in his darkness and embed me into the fabric of his being.

“That pretty little cunt better be ready for me, Lux,” he warns as we burst into his chamber, the doors slamming harshly against the walls. “Because the second I drop you on this bed, I plan on sliding my cock home and stretching you out all night long.”

“Sounds like torture,” I breathe, all but shivering in anticipation from the overwhelming sense of lust ripping through me.

“Oh, it will be.” He laughs darkly. “And you’re going to love every bloody second of it.”

No sooner do the words leave his mouth before he flings me onto his bed. His hands make quick work of yanking my drenched bikini bottom down my legs and shoving them apart, exposing me to his hungered stare.

The growl that rips free from his chest is so deep and predatory, I feel myself slickening in anticipation.

I want to taunt him, to show him what he does to me, but I don’t move, I don’t speak.

I can’t.

His reaction to my body leaves me completely hypnotized.

How his brow furrows, the way he licks his bottom lip, the way his chest heaves, how with every second he gazes a little longer his dick twitches and rises at attention.

The tiniest moan bubbles in my throat, snapping his attention up to my face. He must like what he sees because that devilish smirk plays on all his features as he sinks to his feet between my legs. With exquisite slowness, he grips my ankles and stamps featherlight kisses up my legs, first the right, then the left. They’re so soft, I barely feel them, and yet I’m trembling, pooling at the gentleness of his touch.

His eyes glow demonically in the dim lighting, literally glow, racking another pussy-clenching shiver down my spine. Like a beast stalking his prey, he comes for me, slithering his way up my body until I’m trapped beneath him with nowhere to go.

“I love you,” he vows, sliding into me in one fluid stroke. “I fucking love you.”

Balls deep in my own fantasy, I was sheer seconds away from falling over the edge within the confines of my shower, when my bloody phone started ringing.

Blaring.

The vibe harsh on the marble countertop.

Fingers freezing over my clit, I groaned frustratedly and shut off the water, rushing out to check the caller ID.

A quick scan revealed the last name I expected to see; Vic.

My stomach churned violently.

No doubt this had to do with Roscoe firing him.

Wrapping my towel around myself, I swiped the screen and connected the call, throwing it on speaker.

“You’re wasting your time if you’re trying to get your job back,” I answered, deciding my usual bitchy demeanor would probably be best.

Vic laughed weakly, but it was far from one of amusement. “Trust me, Lux—the last thing I want is my fucking job back.”

“Then what the bloody hell do you want?” I snapped, sauntering into my bedroom to get dressed.

I was supposed to meet Rome soon.

“To ruin you.” That’s all he offered, and he sounded deathly serious.

Goose pimples prickled my skin at the vengeful edge of his voice, an uneasy chill rapidly working its way through my being.

Rather than revealing my cards, than revealing the depth of my trepidation, I laughed out loud, pulling a tank top free from my dresser. “Is that so? Go on, Vic. Humor me.”

“He’s lying to you,” he deadpanned, stilling me in place.

“Who?”

“Your boy toy.”

His faint snicker widened my eyes.

There’s no way he knew about Rome and I. We’d been so careful…

“You must have me confused with someone else.” I tried playing it off, pulling the top over my head. “I don’t have a—”

“Cut the crap, Lux. I know all about you and Rome. I have for a while now,” he sneered. “Your little performance at Vybe was quite entertaining. Not exactly a convincing one, but very entertaining.”

I nearly swallowed my tongue.

Realization rushed me with such speed, my head almost spun.

He’d been at Vybe…and he matched the stalker description to a T…

“Apparently, the two of you thought I was a fool,” he continued as I stood there processing. “Turns out, the only fool here is you.”

My head reared back in ire. “How am I a fool?”

“I told you, he’s lying to you.”

“And what exactly is he lying about?” I pressed, sliding into my knickers and a pair of denim shorts.

“About me.”

“What do you mean about you?”

“Roman didn’t just magically decide to start a war with you, sweetheart. He came into your life because of me. Might be a newsflash for you, but I’d been planning to take you down for quite some time. Knowing how difficult of a task that would be, I enlisted Rome to lend a helping hand—you know, since we worked so well together on the streets of London as young lads.”

Forget his mention of taking me down—that didn’t concern me. Plenty of imbeciles had tried to overrule me before. All I heard, all my brain could focus on was the last bit.

“Young lads?” I hedged, shuffling over to my bed.

Something told me I needed to sit—stat.

“Indeed. Rome and I have known each other well over a decade.”

Well over a decade…

I let that sink in, let what it possibly meant sink in.

If this was true then…

No, it can’t be.

“So you mean to tell me, this whole time, you knew who Phantom was?”

“Knew who he was, what his next move would be, where to find him,” he chuckled darkly. “Watching you run around like a chicken without a head was quite comical.”

“How do I know you’re not lying?” I pressed, praying like I’d never prayed before that it was all a lie.

Not for his sake, but for Rome’s.

“Why would I lie about knowing the wanker?”

“To fuck with my head.”

“Meh. I’m over that,” he chortled. “I’m just looking to even the score after he beat me to fucking a pulp over you.”

“I don’t believe you,” I gritted out, but deep down, knowing what Rome was capable of, a part of me did. “When did this supposedly happen?”

“An hour ago, maybe a little more. Motherfucker left me nearly unconscious with a few broken bones and a bullet graze to my side. I’m sitting in the emergency room as we speak.”

I cringed at the visual that unloaded in my mind’s eye. “I want proof,” I demanded, praying harder still.

The timelines added up perfectly.

Our dinner—the one cancelled last minute—was supposed to be at 7…it was now 8:23 and I’d still not heard a word from him.

A minute later, my phone pinged. “Check your texts,” Vic claimed.

Exiting the call screen, I tapped my way into my text messages and clicked on Vic’s name now bolded at the very top.

“Oh my god.” The image he sent was absolutely horrifying.

He was black and blue, dried smatterings of blood clinging to his skin. His entire face was mostly swollen, too, but the worst of it all was around his eyes. It looked like he’d been stung by a swarm of wasps. And the images of his body—I couldn’t even stomach them. They were gnarly.

“Mhmm.” Vic piped up again. “He did the same when he caught Leo and I with Liza.”

At the mention of their names, any hope I had just about shriveled away.

“You and Leo?” I asked, my voice suddenly clogged with emotion.

“Indeed—in the Milani’s office. Wasn’t the first time we’d fucked her, together or otherwise. That little bitch was a twisted, cock-loving whore. Not that Rome knew, of course. He was too busy playing King of the streets with her.”

Vic chuckled at the memory, meanwhile I sat there withholding an ocean of tears in disbelief.

It was true.

As deceitful, backstabbing, and despicable as Vic was, it was all true. There’s no way he’d know about Liza or Leo, or any of that otherwise.

Which meant Roman had been lying to me since day one.

The knot in my stomach tightened all the more, shooting bile up my throat like a bullet. I wanted to wretch all over the place.

How could he do this to me?

“I need to go, Vic,” I croaked.

“Mmm, I’m sure you do.” The bastard sounded so damned pleased. “Off to call to your King, I’m sure?”

Just the sound of that name wounded me all the more, the ache in my chest so piercing, I almost couldn’t breathe.

“I said I need to go,” I gritted out, a lone tear trickling down my face.

I didn’t wait for a response, or a fare well.

I simply ended the call and fell back on my bed as my entire world began crumbling into tiny pieces.

Everything suddenly made sense.

Ev-ery-thing.

How he always knew where to find me.

How he knew how to press my buttons.

How he always seemed to be two steps ahead of me.

How any mention of Vic always seemed to put him off.

Silent tears sprung free in raging streams as grief and an abundance of self-loathing dispersed through my being. How could I have been so stupid? So naive?

How had I not have caught onto it?

Really, the question I wanted to know the answer to was why?

Why would he fucking do this to me?

I thought he loved me…

Bringing my phone up to my line of sight, I typed out a simple message. It was all I could manage with shaky hands and a shattering heart.

I wasn’t so sure how’d I’d fare seeing him right now, but it had to be done. I had to know.

At the very least, I didn’t have to wait long for his response. It came through within a minute or so.

And he was.

When I made it to the Panorama, I spotted his Mercedes before I even parked myself. The entire walk to the lift and the ride up to the roof was beyond the point of simply nauseating. Every emotion possible seemed to hit me all at once, and with such speed, too, my head felt like it could spin 360 degrees.

How could he do this to me?

A choked sob grated it’s way up my throat, a sob so hard I found myself gripping the steel railing for support. My eyes watered as realization sunk it’s way a little deeper, clawing into my soul, slowly tearing it to shreds.

It hurt.

It hurt so much I couldn’t see straight. Couldn’t breathe. Never in my life had I felt anything like this before.

Ding!

My heart just about stopped as the lift came to a full stop.

This was it.

The end.

And yet, as shattered as I was about it, the second I saw him at the other end of the building, his broad back turned to me, red hot rage instantly thawed my despair. It took me over. Consumed me. Fueled me.

Like it used to when we first met.

This I could handle.

Hate was easy, welcomed at this hour.

Straightening my spine, I lifted my head high and stalked toward him with renewed purpose. Tears may have streamed down my face, but pure fire burned through my veins.

How could he do this to me?

How could he fucking do this to me?

Those incessant thoughts only made me angrier.

At the sound of my boots clipping against the concrete, he peeked over his shoulder.

A smile sat painted on his face...until he really saw me. Then his entire demeanor flipped. It ran ice cold. His face fell, dark brows bunching together as he spun around entirely.

“Who fucked with you?” he gritted out, skyrocketing my rage to capacity.

He had some fucking nerve.

“You, you lying bastard!” I roared.

And then my palm made perfect, unparalleled contact with his cheek, resounding around us above the sounds of the city.