Deadly Obsession (20 page)

Gage cursed as he pushed off the couch, grabbed a beer out of the fridge and headed for the front porch. He needed to be alone. Cool off so he could talk to Brooklyn later, though he doubted she’d want to talk to him.

Chapter Thirteen

Brooklyn
sat by the window, listening to the grandfather clock chime a single note. She’d holed herself up in the tiny room for four hours already, and it was starting to feel as though the walls were closing in on her. She glanced longingly at the bed. She wanted to sleep.
Wanted to ease the weariness clouding her head, clinging to her bones until it was almost too hard to move.
But he’d only be there waiting for her.

She sighed and looked back out the window. The rain had stopped, but the clouds were heavy and the window was streaked with moisture. Faint lights flickered in the distance, wavering out of focus as they passed over the glistening droplets. Brooklyn shivered, peering through the darkness. Was he out there, watching her? Smiling at the fear in her eyes, the nervous twitch in her lips? Could he see the way her hands trembled above the blanket she’d thrown across her lap, or how she jumped at the slightest noise?

She cursed, glancing back towards the bed. A dark silhouette drew her attention to the night table. She shuffled across the floor, carefully flipping the book over so she could read the title in the dim light.
Sarah’s Secret.
Brooklyn’s heart stopped dead as she stared at the cover, before she realised it was Sue’s copy. The woman had told her she was a fan, but Brooklyn didn’t take that stuff to heart. Everyone was a fan when you were in the room. It was only polite.

She flipped through the pages, wondering how many times she’d read the damn thing.
Too many
, she thought with a sigh. She turned back to the cover, and stared at the picture. Images of Sarah and Drake swept away in passionate embraces graced the page. It’d been her idea to superimpose discrete, shadowy silhouettes over the main one, each reflecting a different scene in the book. She’d been thrilled when Emma had shown her the final product. But now the pictures made her feel hollow.

“You bastard,” she sneered as she threw the book across the room. She didn’t bother to watch it slam into the wall, but simply smiled at the deep thud that echoed through the room.

“Are you talking about him…or me?”

Brooklyn
whirled, her heart racing, her eyes bulged wide. She nearly screamed before she realised it was Gage. He was standing inside the doorway, his broad shoulders wedged against the frame. He’d stuffed his hands in his front pockets as he watched her from beneath a veil of shadows and eyelashes. She curbed the impulse to yell and leant back against the chair.

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

A smile tugged at the edges of his mouth, uncovering just a hint of white beneath. “After the way I reacted tonight, I doubt it.” He walked across the floor and picked up the book she’d thrown, running his thumb across the cover. “Having second thoughts?” he asked, holding it up.

Brooklyn
shrugged, tilting her head over to one side.
“Just tired of looking at it.”

Gage nodded, scanning the pictures again. “It’s a good likeness, don’t you think?”

“You mean of Drake, or Sarah?”

“Both, I suppose. But then all your heroines remind me of you.”

“There’s a bit of me in every one. It’s the only way I know how to write.” She looked away, wondering if he knew who inspired her heroes. “It helps me feel connected to them.”

“What about the men? Do you feel connected to Drake?”

“The creep stalking me isn’t Drake.”

“No. But he thinks he is. He thinks the world you created inside these pages is real. That you’re his.”

“If such a place existed, he’d never play the part. Drake would never hurt Sarah. He loves her, and would rather die than raise a hand to her.” Brooklyn watched Gage’s face pale slightly. She knew he’d heard Drake’s threats, but she was too tired to care. She sighed and sank further against the chair. “He’s never going to stop, is he?”

“There’s always a possibility…”

She shot him a knowing look.

Gage sighed and ran his fingers slowly through his hair. “No. He’s not going to stop until we catch him.”

“Or he gets me,” she added.

Gage grunted and covered the short distance between them. “That’s not an option.”

“But a possibility, just the same.”

Gage cursed under his breath and kicked at the carpet. “It’s late. You should get some rest.”

“Maybe later,” she said.

Gage met her gaze. His eyes looked heavy, as if weighed down by the burden of having to protect her. She felt a stab of pain stake through her.

“You need to rest now. I have some medication if you need it. The good doctor gave me some pills to help you relax.”

“Great, so I can spend another few hours unconscious?”

“Asleep.”

“Against my will!”
She stood up, nearly knocking into his chest. “I won’t give up that kind of control. I can’t.”

“I can sit in the chair while you sleep. He won’t hurt you. Not tonight.”

“I don’t want you to sit in the damn chair. I want you to sleep in the bed…with me.” She sucked in a quick breath, not able to halt the words from springing forth. “No, that’s a lie. I want you to make love to me, first.”

Oh God. What the hell had she done? She could tell by the stunned look on his face her sudden confession was the last thing he’d expected. But the mixture of fatigue and fear had broken down her inhibitions, and somehow she’d blurted out the truth before she’d been able to rein in her tongue.

Gage placed a hand on her shoulder and drew her softly against his chest. She could feel the strong beat of his heart on her
cheek,
and the evidence of his arousal hard against her groin. She groaned, rubbing her hips gently across his crotch. He moaned, a deep, sultry sound that made her body weep, but there was
a wariness
in it she hadn’t heard before.

“You’re confused, and you’re only turning to me out of fear.”

Brooklyn
pulled back and looked into his eyes. They were cloudy with desire, like a mountain thunderstorm just starting to rage. “No.” The word came out as a harsh whisper.

“Brook.”

“Please.” She pressed her face into his chest, palming her hands against his shoulders. “I’m not asking for promises.
Just one night.”
She heard his breathing escalate, felt his erection harden further.

“You’ll hate me in the morning.”

The hurt edge to his voice had her curling against him, her hands wrapped around his neck. She pulled away just enough for him to see the honesty in her face. “I could never hate you. Not even if I tried.”

With that she raised her lips to his, softly slanting them across his mouth. She moved slowly, touching his skin as if any hard motion would bruise it. He was still hesitant, and she needed to allow him time to work through his concerns. His lips were warm and slightly wet, as if he’d licked them in anticipation. She pressed against them, savouring the feel of his breath mixing with hers, as she gently dipped her tongue into his mouth. He moaned at her soft intrusion, palming his hands on her back. She could feel his pressure increasing, slowly flattening her chest on his. Brooklyn closed her eyes, and let her heart lead her.

Gage was dying. And a damn willing
sacrifice
at that. He hadn’t expected Brooklyn to make a move, especially after the way he’d treated her tonight. As if she
were
responsible instead of the victim. She’d been right. None of what had happened had been her fault. Drake was proving to be a borderline genius, riding that fine line between insanity and brilliance with complete control. Gage knew if he didn’t find a way to stop the man, he’d eventually succeed.

He’d gone to her room as an afterthought. As if his heart needed to see she was safe even though he knew the bastard couldn’t track her down that fast. But the moment he’d seen her standing by the chair, cursing the book she’d spent months writing, he knew he’d only been fooling himself. He wanted her. Wanted to take her in his arms, kiss her as if he never intended on letting go. Make love to her with only the pale light from the window as his guide, using his hands and tongue to explore every inch of her body. He wanted to ease the pain he’d seen in her eyes. Replace Drake’s touch with his. He wanted to claim her.

“Gage.”

He moaned at the soft whisper of her voice, so deep and hungry he had to fight the urge to push her against the wall and plunge his cock inside her. He knew she was ready for him, the sweet scent of her arousal mixing with the flowery scent of soap from her skin. But that wasn’t what she needed. “Easy,” he whispered, kissing her neck as she arched against him.
“Nice and easy, darling.”

“So you’ll stay with me?” she asked.

His heart clenched at the pain in her voice. She’d thought he’d refuse her, distance himself as he’d done earlier. He should apologise, confess his undying love, give her the reassurance she needed that he had no intentions of ever letting her go. But his cock answered first.

“Couldn’t leave if I tried,” he mumbled.

He felt Brooklyn smile against his chest as she moved her fingers down his torso, pausing at the edge of his shirt. Her hands trembled as she slipped her fingers beneath the cotton, palming his chest. She cooed at the intimate contact, running her fingers across his abdomen, squeezing the tight muscles. She moved slowly, tracing each band as if she had all the time in the world.

He groaned. She was going to kill him. It was that simple. His control was hanging by a
thread,
his need to possess her so strong it was all he could do not to rip off her clothes. Start up a rhythm guaranteed to have them both screaming before she could utter a protest. Yet, she was teasing him as if they’d never spent a night apart.

“Darling.”

He heard her chuckle at his voice. It was raw and impatient, a direct order to speed things up before he took control. But she paid it no heed, running her fingers along his ribs, circling his nipples until they burned for her touch. He sucked in a breath through clenched teeth as she lifted his shirt up, tugging it forcefully from his shoulders. He smiled, determined to remove her shirt as well, when she placed her lips around his nipple and sucked.

Fire seared his body, the feel of her soft, wet lips on his chest stoking the flames higher. She had a way of curling her tongue and sipping his nipple into her mouth that sent a rush of blood to his cock, tightening it painfully inside his jeans. He groaned, clenching her hair in his hands. He needed to sate some of his hunger before he hurt her in the process.

“Enough,” he said, pulling her away.

“But…”

“You’re playing with fire here, darling, and if you keep up this pace, you’ll get burned.”

He watched as she bit her bottom lip. God, she was beautiful. Even with fear creasing her face, nights of sleeplessness bunched in her shoulders, she was the loveliest creature he’d ever seen. He moved quickly, pulling the large sweater off her as he ground her body against his. She gasped at the sudden movement, before sinking into his embrace. He loved how her body moulded to his. How her breasts pressed against his ribs or how her hips cradled his erection. He was even harder and knew if he didn’t release his cock soon, he’d come in his jeans.

“Pants.”

He had no time for lengthy phrases. One word to convey his thoughts was more than enough. He felt her fumble with the button before easing it free. Then he heard the faint hiss of the zipper as Brooklyn lowered the fly, finally releasing some of the pressure. She moaned at the feel of his cock against her fingers. He was hard and thick and he knew she was imagining how tight she’d feel as he thrust inside her.

Don’t think about it, or it’ll be over before it starts!

He listened to the voice in his head, trying to ignore the way Brooklyn eased his pants down his legs, taking his socks with them. He couldn’t concentrate on the gentle caress of her fingers as she retraced her steps, finally taking his erection in her hand. She squeezed.

Gage cried out. Over six months without sex and Brooklyn wanted to torment him. His control vanished, a fleeting thought along with any reservations he had left. He picked her up, crossed the four steps to the bed and practically threw her onto the mattress. He watched a smile light across her face as he grabbed the bottom of the sweatpants and pulled them off, tossing them to the floor. Then he removed her socks, pausing just long enough to suck each toe into his mouth. She moaned in need, spreading her legs as if trying to tempt him with the evidence of her arousal.

Gage looked between her thighs. His heart skipped then raced. She hadn’t been wearing any panties, and he could see her moisture coating her velvety lips and the inside of her thighs. It glistened in the pale light, begging him to lick it away.

He growled, grabbed her ankles and pulled. Brooklyn laughed as he dragged her across the bed, positioning her ass on the edge. He met her gaze, loving the way the shadows had eased from her face, replaced by a mischievous smile that was pure minx. He looked down the length of her body. She was gloriously naked. He gazed at her breasts. Her nipples were hard, the deep pink colour not quite distinguishable in the soft light. The skin around them had puckered slightly and he longed to run his tongue across the tiny bumps. Her ribs were showing more than they should, a reminder of the trauma she’d suffered. He ignored the searing pain at the thoughts that flashed in his mind, and focused on the sleek line of her abdomen.
The way her belly button formed a perfect little pool in the centre of her body, or how her hips flared out gently from her waist.