His Obsession Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Thank you for reading!

  Backlist

  About the Author

  His Obsession

  By

  Maxine Storm

  Copyright © 2017 Maxine Storm

  All rights reserved.

  Chapter 1

  Armand

  With a single hand I held both of her wrists over her head. My body pressed against hers as she wriggled and tried to inch herself closer to my touch. I didn’t give a fuck who saw us.

  “Not yet,” I said, shoving her hips back against the wall with mine. I reached behind her with my other hand and firmly grabbed a handful of her ass, feeling her breath against my neck.

  I needed her right now.

  All of her.

  She’d been wearing that hip hugging black dress the whole night and it’d been driving me crazy waiting to rip her curvy body out of it.

  She opened her mouth – to beg me for more, or to moan, I couldn’t tell – the music in this damn place was too loud.

  At least it meant no one was going to hear how loud we’d get. I could feel the beats vibrating through her when I grinded all of my weight against her body.

  I glided my fingers up her side all the way to her mouth and traced her soft red lips, whispering in her ear.

  “You want this, don’t you?” I said, pushing my hard dick through my pants against her.

  Her lips tried to snatch mine but I grabbed her chin and pushed her head to the side, biting her neck and whispering in her ear again.

  “I’m going to lift up that little dress and take you right now, so don’t you fucking move.”

  She nodded, her eyes wide open, her lips babbling and shaking in anticipation as I unzipped and pulled my cock out.

  I held her hips and eased myself closer to her.

  This is what I wanted.

  And now I was finally getting to take it.

  I felt her body burning up as I neared her, as I reached closer to her, getting hotter and tighter, feeling herself around me, feeling like she was mine, yes, her breaths so loud that I could hear her, the whole club could hear her, grabbing her neck and pulling her in, feeling that she was mine, that she was…

  “Armand! Earth to Armand! Wake up, man!” said Brent Stevenson, my VP of marketing.

  I groaned.

  Damn it.

  I forgot I was at this bullshit party.

  Reality hit me like a slap to the face when I realized it was spent with this crowd.

  I looked around for the woman I was fantasizing about, but I couldn’t see her anywhere.

  Maybe she left the club.

  She looked too innocent for this scene.

  This scene was full of people who’d stab you in the back for the slightest of opportunities.

  It was full of people whose smiles hid a vicious soul.

  Stevenson tapped me on my shoulder after he noticed I was spacing out again.

  “Armand, I wanted to introduce you to Alex, a journalist at Global Eye Media,” he said.

  Another young woman looking for something from me, I thought.

  Blonde, tall, slim, with big breasts, I could tell she thought all she’d have to do was squeeze her boobs together and I’d fall for her.

  Not a chance.

  I look beyond the surface.

  “That’s nice,” I said, to no one in particular, but in neutral enough tone so as not to be considered rude.

  People around me like Stevenson were always trying to get on my good side, introducing me to women, expensive restaurants, resorts, whatever.

  I guess he thought that since it was a ‘party’ – and I use that term reluctantly – I’d be in the mood for his ass-kissing. That I’d be tipsy and not have my wits about me.

  That I’d let my guard down.

  No way.

  Not around people like this.

  The blonde – Alex – flashed a smile at me. She might as well have shown me every card in her hand, the way she was resting her hand on my shoulder, trying to get my attention.

  I shot back a smirk.

  Not because I was flattered, embarrassed, or turned on.

  But because she was so transparent to me.

  You don’t build an empire like mine without seeing beyond the surface.

  Stevenson put down his drink.

  “Alex was wondering if she could have some of your time to ask you a few questions about your thoughts on where the media business is heading – especially after receiving your award tonight,” Stevenson said, before winking at Alex.

  Stevenson was clearly trying to get on her good side, not just mine. He lost his head around women. Especially the type like Alex. And especially when he was drunk.

  “If you want my thoughts, read our company’s press release,” I said, getting up from the table.

  It wasn’t this little song and dance from her and Stevenson that bored me and made me leave.

  No.

  I saw the woman I had been fantasizing about from before.

  She was crossing back from the dance floor, looking out of place, but two guys in suits with their ties hanging loosely and shirts sweat-stained and untucked stood in her way like lumbering oafs.

  She looked delicious and my eyes traced the curves along her body.

  It was time to get her.

  Chapter 2

  Janet

  I wasn’t sure I really wanted to be here, but my co-worker, Britney, basically dragged me out. I don’t like big parties like this, especially when the crowd is full of big movers and shakers in a city-wide celebration of the media industry. If a normal party can make me anxious, imagine how much more this kind of place can.

  I found a space to stand in by myself, feeling distanced from everyone. The people here are those who I’d run into or work with at one time or another, though, so it was important I at least suck it up and show up.

  But there was one man I couldn’t keep my eyes off of.

  He stood tall above the other guy and blonde he was speaking with, commanding their attention. The blonde seemed like the type that could reel any man in. She was elegant and the other man was practically drooling over her, but her focus was on the taller man, whose muscles and build were clearly apparent through the blazer that hung effortlessly from his wide shoulders.

  The blonde played with her long hair but the tall man seemed unmoved, as if focused on something distant, while the other man looked at her like a puppy dog. She swayed her hips to the music.

  I wouldn’t really fit in next to her.

  I sighed.


  It was going to be a long night. I’m not a big drinker but maybe I’d need it to get through this.

  Before I could shuffle my feet to the bar, Britney grabbed my hand.

  “What are you doing standing out here, for, Janet? I love this song!”

  Britney pulled me into the throng of people on the dance floor, her light hair trailing behind like ribbons.

  “I want to dance!” she said, taking my hand and leading me in.

  For her, it was all about impulsive stuff like that. But she was down to Earth. I could see why guys went for her.

  As soon as I started dancing – awkwardly – two drunken guys came up to us. They circled me and started grinding on my sides, their smelly and gross sweat sticking on me as they bumped out of time with the music.

  I started to remember why I hated clubs again.

  I avoided eye contact, thinking they’d move on if I didn’t give any signals.

  No use.

  They probably took my silence as an invitation to keep going.

  They kept creepily getting closer and dancing – if you could call it that. More like drunken stumbling.

  Maybe they thought that because I was bigger than Britney or the other girls here like the blonde that I’d be an easy target. Someone who wouldn’t bat them away. Someone who they could have their ‘fun’ with.

  “Come on, baby,” one of the bros slurred.

  “Dance with us,” said the other, his speech uneven. He tried to touch my ass but I swerved out of reach.

  Britney could see I was uncomfortable. She tried to step forward and break me out but one of the bros put his hand to her chest.

  “Stay out of this, bitch,” he said.

  Just as he turned to her, I pushed the other bro back and he bumped into another guy dancing.

  “What the fuck is your problem?” shouted the other dancer at the bro.

  I grabbed Britney’s hand and we weaved back out through the dance floor.

  I thought we were finally home free when I felt a sweaty hand grip mine roughly and pulled me around.

  “Where do you think you’re going, sweetie?” said the same bro from before, his breath a odorous mix of every drink one could order at a place like this. His friend stood beside him, forming a wall.

  “Where do you think YOU’RE going?” said a booming voice from behind me.

  I turned around and saw the same powerfully built man I saw before from afar talking to the blonde. He was in a dark blue suit, standing 6’3”, his shoulders so wide they were blocking out the strobe lights behind him. It was like the DJ had stopped the music when he spoke.

  “Fuck off,” said one of the bros, trying to place his hand around me and back on my ass.

  “Don’t touch her,” said the tall man.

  “I said, fuck off,” said the bro, bringing his hand closer to my back.

  What a creep.

  But before the creep could grab me, the tall man gripped the bro’s wrist and clenched it so tightly a sharp look of pain crossed his face, and he dropped to a knee, reaching up with his other hand as if to free himself from the crushing grip.

  “I told you. Don’t. Touch. Her,” said the tall man, his eyes burning with anger.

  The other bro, seeing the tall man’s strength, walked back with his hands up, losing his footing by bumping into other dancers, before finally running deep into the club.

  The other bro tapped the tall man’s wrist, begging to be let go.

  “Please, dude, I’m sorry,” he said, looking up him.

  The man let go of his wrist and pulled him up. The bro limped out of the crowd, cradling his wrist.

  “Are you OK?” said the man, holding my shoulder.

  The same hand that only moments ago was making the bro wince in pain, was now softly resting warmly on my shoulder, slowing the madness of the whole club in my mind. My shoulder seemed tiny in his weighty but assuring grasp and I shivered at his touch.

  “Me? Yeah. I’m good,” I said.

  “You don’t look so good,” he said. “You’re shaking.”

  Maybe I was, but it was from the thrill of his hand, as if he created an island for us in the middle of the frantic dance floor.

  “I’ll buy you a drink,” he said, taking my hand, and leading me out.

  Britney walked beside me, her jaw dropped in surprise.

  “Holy shit,” she whispered in my ear. “It’s him. He’s hot.”

  I could only nod in agreement, thinking the man could hear her above the music, although that’d be impossible.

  Just then someone pulled Britney in the other direction.

  “Britney, please come with me. It’s about Global Eye,” the voice said.

  “I’ll find you later,” said Britney, moving away. “Have fun!”

  Chapter 3

  The man led me to a table near a wall, away from the club chaos and peaceful in comparison.

  “I’m not one for dancing, especially in places like this” he said. “You can see why.”

  “I was having fun,” I lied. “My friend wanted me to join her.”

  “Do you always do what your friends say?” he said, staring at me. His eyes were a dark blue, like a powerful deep wave rising from the ocean. I caught myself staring back and fidgeted.

  “It’s fun to do stuff like that sometimes. Fun girl stuff. It’s not a big deal.”

  “You’re saying ‘fun’ a lot,” he said, smirking. “So I’m sure you’re telling the truth.”

  Who was this guy? It’s like he could read me completely. He could tell how I was lying and what I was really thinking instead.

  He waved down a server to our table.

  “Two martinis,” he said. “Dry.”

  “I’ll just have a beer,” I said.

  “Make it two martinis. No beer,” he said.

  The server smiled and walked to the bar, turning her head to grin at the man when she was further away.

  Too late for me to say anything. I felt like a little kid being corrected like that.

  I wanted to yell after the server to change the order but I felt he could just silence me with a wave of his hand if he wanted. He just seemed to take control.

  The lights in the club changed with the song and I finally got a good look at the man.

  His jaw was wide and strong but shaped perfectly like a model’s, and his skin was covered in light stubble that I couldn’t help but imagine brushing against my cheek. His hair was short, dark, and wavy, and led down to an unbuttoned collar shirt sticking out from his blazer. He rested his hand on the table and I touched his fingers and palm where he had held the bro like it was no effort.

  “Is your hand OK?” I said.

  “It was nothing,” he said. “Simple martial arts technique – extremely painful when used on someone but basically harmless.” He flexed his fingers in a wave from the pinky to the thumb, tapping them against my hand inside of his. “I don’t tolerate any man bothering a woman like that.”

  “Well, thank you,” I said. His touches sent shots of electricity up my arm. I can’t believe I never thanked him for rescuing me until now. He must have thought I had no class.

  He rubbed his thumb along the back of my hand. There was a bite to the texture that suggested a life of tough work. It wasn’t like someone who was behind the computer all the time like in my company, like the people invited to the club tonight.

  “You don’t need to thank me,” he said. “Not when you look as sexy as you do, right now.”

  I blushed and felt heat running through my veins. I hadn’t even had a drink.

  He stroked my hand again as if to say it wasn’t the alcohol speaking.

  The way he held himself up was in stark contrast to the rest of the people on the dance floor now, drunkenly moving back and forth like passengers on a sinking ship.

  “I don’t like big crowds like this,” I said. “But it’s nice to go out sometimes and get dressed up.”

  “A girl likes you needs to be careful
when she ‘goes out,’. Especially when you’re ‘dressed up’ in a delicious looking outfit like that” he said, his voice husky.

  I turned to look at the dance floor again out of nerves, trying to escape from his eyes, but he fixed his gaze upon me.

  “There are a lot of dangerous men out there, and I don’t mean those drunken bros only.”

  “I can take care of myself,” I said, trying to steady my voice, and pulling my hand back from his. “I’m not afraid of any stupid bros.”

  “Uh-huh,” he said, taking my hand again, and rubbing it gently but firmly with his thumb.

  There he did it again.

  Making me feel like I didn’t know what I was doing and had to follow his lead. My hand relented and I felt his strong palm envelop mine.

  The server arrived and gave us the two martinis. She seemed to linger, as if to wait for some kind of acknowledgement from the man, but all he did was nod his head and say a calm “thank you.”

  The man raised his glass and took a sip. His calm enjoyment of the drink was in stark contrast to the stumbling men in suits standing far behind him.

  I raised my glass to my lips and tried a bit of the martini.

  My lips puckered and I felt woozy for a brief second.

  The man laughed and helped me put the drink back down onto the table.

  “It’s good, you’ll enjoy it,” he said.

  I shook my head. Martinis, fancy suits – I felt like I couldn’t keep up. Around him, I was like a kid trying to speak for the first time.

  The DJ changed the music to something slower. Finally, something that wasn’t a constant pounding of bass and drums. It was a song I remembered dancing to from elementary school. A little cheesy, but something everyone knew.

  The man held my hand and tugged.

  “Come over here,” he said.

  “I had enough dancing for one night,” I replied.

  “That’s an order, miss,” he said, gently smacking the top of my hand.

  I hadn’t slow danced in ages. It wasn’t something that was cool, anymore, I guess. Dancing these days meant grinding up on someone and seeing if they’d like to go home with you. It was a kind of connection that was lost in our superfast world. A connection where you had to be vulnerable, to not be afraid of the vulnerability we hide every day.