Endless Obsession (14 page)

“Okay,” I say shyly with a smile, “Asher.”

It’s subtle, but it feels like the air thickens around us when I say his name. His eyes change from a bright green to a deeper forest color. The shift in the air has my thighs clenching and my stomach cramping. I stiffen in my chair, my hand crushing the phone in my hand, reminding me of the question I asked Sterling and the reply I still haven’t looked at yet. I’m conflicted. I desperately want to glance down at my phone, but I don’t want to take my eyes off Mr…
Asher
. Even saying his name in my head gives me shivers.

“How long have you lived in the Atlanta area?” Asher asks, bringing me back to the moment.

I take another sip of my wine before replying.

“All my life, actually. My parents moved here before I was born.”

Bringing up my parents causes a sharp pain in my chest. I rub my sternum to try to relieve some of the ache.

“Are you okay?” Asher inquires, concern evident in his voice.

I give him a sad smile.

“Yeah. It’s just…” I stop and take a deep breath. It’s always hard talking about my parents. I have no idea why I am now, with Asher.

“They’re both gone, and it’s still painful to think about them,” I tell him honestly.

Surprising me, Asher reaches across the table, places his hand over mine and gives it a gentle squeeze. Even through the seriousness of the situation, the warmth of his hand on mine has my body heating up.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” he voices quietly.

An odd sense of comfort washes over me with his words. “Thank you.”

His hand remains on mine, his fingers rubbing circles on the back of my hand. I watch the movement, unable to tear my eyes away. I don’t know what’s happening, and I’m not sure I want it to stop. Asher has always made me nervous, but my body is so aware of him. I like his touch on me.

The waitress comes back with our food, breaking the spell. I pull my hand back and immediately feel the loss. When I look up at him, he’s looking at me with the same expression he did earlier today. It’s the same look of desire I thought my mind conjured up, except this time, it seems to be more profound.

Dazed at what has transpired between us, I look away from him and down to my lap. Needing a distraction, I bring my phone to life to sneak a peek at Sterling’s message while the waitress places our food in front of us and refills our drinks.

It’s a simple one-word reply.

Sterling:
Yes.

My head automatically lifts to look around the room, noticing several more tables have been filled since Asher showed up. However, each table now has a couple, who are in their own worlds, talking in hushed conversations. No one is looking our way, and nothing looks out of the ordinary.

How can he stay hidden so well?

Is he watching right now as I sit here with Asher? Is he angry I’m having dinner with another man? I want to text him back, but know that it would appear rude for me to do so.

“Is there a problem?” Asher asks.

Feeling guilty for looking for one man while I’m having dinner with another, I stop my perusal of the room and focus back on Asher.

“No. Sorry,” I mutter.

We sit for a few minutes in silence as we both start eating. The quiet should be uncomfortable, but it’s unexpectedly not. This is my first time at this restaurant, and I have to admit, it’s very good.

“What do you do for fun, Poppy?” Asher inquires after putting his fork and napkin on the table beside his plate.

I wipe my mouth with my own napkin and set it down in my lap.

“Fun? Well, I enjoy reading. And taking walks in the park down the road from my house. I always bring a few pieces of bread to feed the ducks while I’m there.” I think for a minute, not really sure what he wants to hear. My life is pretty boring, so I wouldn’t really constitute what I call fun something he would enjoy. “I also like going to the drive-in theater. It reminds me of when my parents took me as a kid. We’d go and watch two movies in one night.”

Asher watches me as I talk, taking in every word I say. I like that’s he seems so interested in what I have to say.

“What about you?” I question, more than a little curious about him.

“I don’t have much time for fun anymore, but I enjoy working out. Sometimes, I go fishing as well.”

“Fishing? Really?” I can’t hide my surprise. There is no way this man enjoys fishing.

He chuckles at my shocked expression.

“What can I say? It’s relaxing.”

I laugh. “I just can’t picture you wearing a fishing vest filled with hooks and water boots.”

“No vest and boots, just shorts and a T-shirt. Or no shirt at all if it’s hot enough,” he remarks, and
holy hell
, he winks!

Images of him with no shirt on flow through my mind. What a sight that would be to see. The thought no sooner enters my mind when I feel my face heat and sparks shoot between my legs. Asher’s smug look says he knows where my thoughts went.

“Have you ever been fishing?” he asks, thankfully ending my embarrassment.

I nod. “My dad and I would go all the time when I was younger. He and my mom used to pick on me because I refused to put the worm on the hook. I could clean fish all day long, but putting that worm on the hook? No way.”

I shudder, then laugh in remembrance.

We talk for a few more minutes. Overall, not much is said between us, but it still feels like a lot because we’ve never talked about anything other than work. I’m taken aback when I realize for the last half hour, I’ve felt comfortable in his presence, something that’s never happened before. Although he’s still a very intense man, my nerves finally calmed, and I was able to relax and enjoy myself around him.

The waitress discreetly slips the folder with the bill on the table. I reach out to grab it, intent on paying for my portion, even though Eric said he told them to put it on his tab, but Asher seizes it before I get a chance.

“I was going to pay—”

“No,” he says, handing a matte black card and the check back to the waitress.

“No?” I ask, dumbfounded by his abrupt tone.

It softens as he looks back at me and says, “It’s my treat. You kept me company instead of letting me eat alone. It’s the least I can do.”

I don’t know why, but his words bring me happiness in knowing he enjoyed the time he spent with me.

He puts his signature down on the receipt and we both get up to leave. I don’t want the day to end. I’ve really enjoyed sitting with him and hearing him talk. Disappointment sets in when I realize I never really got the chance, or rather, I never worked up the courage to ask him any questions.

A sigh escapes my lips when I realize I may not ever get another opportunity.

“Something wrong?” Asher asks as we make our way out of the restaurant.

“No.” I smile up at him.

“Where did you park?”

I look around, pointing to the end of the block. “Just around the corner there.”

“I’ll walk you.”

“Oh, you don’t need to do that,” I protest. “It’s not that far.”

“I realize that, but I’d still like to walk you to your car. It wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of me if I didn’t.”

Well, okay then.

“Okay.” Not sure what else to say, I start walking in the direction of my car and he falls into step beside me.

“Nice car,” Asher compliments once we’re standing in front on my Monte Carlo.

“Thanks,” I say proudly. “It was my dad’s.”

When I turn to face him, his eyes show sympathy.

“You miss them a lot, don’t you?”

I look down at my keys in my hand before bringing my head back up and looking to the side.

“I do,” I say quietly. “Don’t get me wrong, I loved my mom with my whole heart, and I miss her every day, but my dad and I had a special bond.”

I grow quiet, thinking about my dad. It’s been five years since he died, but it feels like it was yesterday. The hurt hasn’t lessened; I’ve only learned how to cope with it better.

I push the depressing thoughts aside and turn back to Asher, forcing a smile. He has his hands in his pockets, watching me pensively.

“Thank you for dinner. I have to admit, I wasn’t looking forward to eating alone.”

“The pleasure was all mine. A beautiful woman such as yourself should never eat alone.”

I smile shyly at him, pleased at his compliment.

“Good night, Asher. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Night, Poppy.”

For some asinine reason, I don’t want to leave, but I force my body to turn and unlock my door. It was nice talking with Asher tonight. I saw a side of him I’ve never seen before. For the first time in a year, I actually felt comfortable around him, something I never thought would ever happen.

I slide into my seat and start my car. I wave good-bye to Asher one last time and watch a beautiful smile cross his face. It sends flutters straight to my stomach. I’m not under the illusion that things will be different between us. I mean, that would be stupid. But I can’t help the pleasure that flows through me at spending time with him. He was different tonight—still intense, but not overly so.

I look in my rearview mirror as I pull away and feel a twinge of disappointment when I no longer see him standing there.

I’m finishing up a few last minute things before I leave work for the weekend. I’m exhausted, and am looking forward to two days off. The last couple days have been tough. I haven’t been sleeping and it’s starting to wear on me. I’ve woken up several times drenched in sweat with my body on fire with need.

Sterling came to visit that first night, tormenting me with his faceless figure. Each time he came close to revealing his face, I’d wake up. Frustration kept me awake for the rest of the night. I’ve chatted with him a few times over texts, but I haven’t heard his deep husky voice again since the night he called, and I desperately want to hear it again.

Surprisingly, he never brought up my evening in the restaurant. I know he had to have seen me eating with Asher, and I wonder why he never asked about him. All I received from him that night by way of a text was a “Good night, Beautiful. Sweet dreams.” I would be lying if I said I wasn’t a little disappointed. That night I dreamed of him.

The next night I dreamed of Asher. We were once again in his office. I was looking out his floor to ceiling window when I felt him come up behind me. From the reflection in the glass, I saw his eyes focused solely on me.

He dipped his head, nipped my ear, and whispered, “Put your palms on the glass.”

My body shivered with the whispered words, and I did what I was told.

“Good girl,” he murmured. He settled his hands on my lower thighs, and started to slowly hike up my tight skirt. His hands felt warm and rough, and oh so good. I arched my back, thrusting my ass back, and moaned at the sensations he was causing to travel through my body.

Once my skirt was over my hips, showing off the tiny panties I was wearing, he flattened his front to my back. I felt the hard bulge of his cock rub against my ass. He wrapped one hand around my hair and pulled my head back until my eyes met his.

“You’re mine,” he growled, then took my lips in a bruising kiss.

I woke up to my body aching and nearly desperate for release. I was tempted to play with myself to relieve some of the pressure, but I didn’t. Having sexy dreams about my boss is one thing, but bringing myself to orgasm from the thought of him is entirely different. Instead, I got up and took a cold shower until my body settled down.

The next morning when I saw Eric at work, he apologized again for missing dinner and asked me when we could try again. I may have fibbed a little when I told him that I was busy for the next several nights, but would let him know when I was free. He couldn’t hide the disappointment my words caused. I felt awful, but it would be even more terrible to lead him on. I know I need to come up with a more solid answer and tell him I’m not interested, and I will. I just have to work up the courage. I hate hurting people’s feelings.

I lift my head from rummaging through my desk, looking for Ibuprofen, when Asher walks out of the conference room, along with Eric, Mr. Maverick, and several others. The morning after our dinner when I walked into his office for our daily morning meeting, I called him Mr. Knight. He looked at me sternly and insisted I call him Asher. The other night, calling him by his first name was one thing. We were out of work and having a personal dinner. But here at work, it just doesn’t seem right, even though his name still feels good coming from my lips.

He’s stopped and talked to me a few times over the last couple days; not saying much, just asking how my day was going. The first time he did it, I was shocked. Dinner was a fluke thing. We just happened to be in the same restaurant at the same time alone. His eyes twinkled while he waited for my answer.

After he left, Liv looked at me curiously. I hadn’t told her about the dinner. I don’t know why, but I wanted to keep it to myself. I just shrugged and looked away from her.

Asher walks to my desk and drops a file on top.

“I need you to log this into Mr. Maverick’s file before you leave today, Poppy.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll get to it right away.”

The memory of Asher’s hands on me last night from my dream has me blushing and looking down at the file. My core starts tingling, and I have to shift in my chair.

“What are you thinking about?” Asher’s quiet voice has my head jerking up to find him eyeing me curiously.

My eyes go wide and my mouth goes dry.

There’s no way in hell I’m telling him what I was just thinking.

“Nothing,” I mutter. I scoot the file to the side and move the cursor on my computer to bring it back to life.

“Ah, Miss Lexington. It’s so nice to see you again.”

I look up to see Mr. Maverick making his way over to my desk. He’s smiling with his hand outstretched. I glance briefly at Asher out the corner of my eye and stand to take Mr. Maverick’s hand.

“Hello, Mr. Maverick. It’s nice to see you too. I’m surprised you remember me.”

His eyes flicker to Asher for a second, and something passes between the two before their focus returns to me.

“I never forget a pretty face.”

“Thank you.” I smile and feel my face heat at his compliment. As you can see, I don’t generally do well with compliments.

Mr. Maverick is a good looking man with his short brown hair and deep green eyes. He has on a dark gray suit that brings out the color of his eyes.

“How do you like working for my old friend Asher here?” Mr. Maverick asks.

“Mr. Knight has been very nice. I enjoy working for him.” I return his smile.

“Asher,” Asher says from beside Mr. Maverick.

I turn my attention back to him. Why is he so intent on me calling him by his first name, even in front of business associates? He stands there, holding my gaze, not letting me look away.

“Asher,” I say softly, and watch as something flares in his eyes. My breath catches for a moment at the look. I reach out to the table when my legs turn to jelly. I wish he’d look at me like that all the time.

Someone clears their throat, reminding me we aren’t alone. I look down with embarrassment.

“I’ve got to get going. It was good seeing you, Miss Lexington. Asher, walk me to the elevator, would you?”

“Sure,” he tells Mr. Maverick, before turning to me. “I’m headed out. Do you have everything here?”

“Yes, sir.” I tap the file on my desk. “I just need to put this into Mr. Maverick’s file and then I’ll be done for the day.”

“I’ll see you on Monday, Poppy.”

“Okay.”

I watch as the two men walk to the elevator, then shake my head as I sit back down. Asher has been acting strange all week, and I’m unsure as to how to take it.

I open the bottle of Ibuprofen and shake out two into my palm. After downing them with some water, I get to work. Fifteen minutes later, I glance down at my phone and note that it’s five after five. I look over to Liv’s desk and see her grabbing her purse. I close down my computer, grab my water bottle, my purse, and stand, just as she stops by my desk.

“I am so ready for the weekend,” she sighs.

“Me too,” I agree, hearing my shower calling my name.

We make idle chitchat as we walk across the lobby. Jared and Nathan are at their stations as we pass by. Jared is on the phone but waves at the both of us. Nathan is standing at the bank of computers, but he’s not watching them. Instead, he has his eyes planted firmly on us.

“That guy gives me the creeps,” Liv says, not lowering her voice. Nathan’s eyes narrow on her.

I elbow her in the side. “For goodness’ sake, Liv. I think he heard you.”

“I don’t give a shit if he did. He needs to learn to keep his eyes to himself,” she says, and glares over her shoulder at Nathan.

I wince with her harsh words and look over at him, intent on apologizing for her, but stop when I see the way he’s watching us. The look in his eyes is purely carnal. Not in the appreciative way, but in a way that says even as he’s watching, he’s imagining doing very dirty things to us. Things I don’t think either of us would be interested in. Things
he
knows we wouldn’t be interested in, but he does them anyway
because
he knows we wouldn’t enjoy them.

Nathan catches me watching him, and literately rakes his eyes down my body, slowly, landing on my ass for several seconds before bringing them back to mine. His lips tip up into a sneer. I whip my head back around, disgusted.

I may not know Nathan that well, and from what I just witnessed, I don’t want to. He’s never looked at me that way before. Yes, he’s been quiet, and I’ve felt his eyes on me before, but I’ve never seen that lewd look from him before.

Maybe Liv is right in her assessment of Nathan. I definitely got the creepy vibe from him. I’ll make sure to keep an eye out from now on.

I pull up to my house an hour later and grab my purse and the takeout bag from the small Chinese restaurant I sometimes stop at on my way home. The smell makes my stomach rumble, so I hurry along the walk leading to my door. Throwing my keys on the counter, I go straight for a plate and scoop some of the shrimp chow mein on my plate, then grab a water bottle out of the fridge. I lean back against the counter with my plate in my hand while I eat.

I’m three bites in when there’s a knock on my door. I’m startled at first; I never get visitors. Thinking it may be a neighbor or something, I set my plate down and check the peephole before opening the door. A man in a white dress shirt and tie, with some type of name tag is standing there holding a small brown package.

I open the door. “Can I help you?”

“Miss Lexington?” he asks, looking up from the clipboard in his hand.

“Yes, that’s me.”

“I have a delivery for you.”

“But I didn’t—”

He thrusts the clipboard and pen at me. I look over the invoice, but it gives nothing.

“If I can just get you to sign right here,” he says, tapping the bottom of the page.

Confused, and a little dazed at what the package could possibly be, I numbly scribble my name across the signature line and hand him back the invoice. He flips the page over and rips off the sheet beneath it and hands it, along with the package, over to me.

“Have a good day, ma’am.”

I watch as he turns and walks away. I look down at the package in my hand, absentmindedly closing the door and walking to the kitchen. I try to rack my brain to see if I bought anything recently and come up blank.

I set the package down on the counter and look at it cautiously. It’s in plain brown paper and about the size of a small laptop box. I scoot it around and see no return address. I don’t really have any friends besides Liv, and she would have told me if she had sent me anything. Is it normal to receive packages out of the blue? What could it be?

Oh well, I guess there’s only one way to find out.

I turn it around so the end is facing me and slide my finger beneath the tape. Once the tape is loose, I pull a white box out. I suck in a sharp breath when I see the words
Cosabella
across the top. It’s one of my favorite lingerie brands. It’s also very expensive.

Nervously, I lift the lid and put it to the side. Pink tissue paper lays across the top. I lift it away and see a small white envelope resting on top of a sheer piece of fabric. I pull out a cream postcard size piece of paper.

Wear me tonight.

Sterling

That’s it. That’s all there is.

Does this mean he’s going to show himself tonight? Warmth and excitement hits my chest at the possibility, then nervousness and uncertainty set in. Am I really ready to meet him?

I carefully slide the card back inside the envelope and put it on top of the lid, then reach out for the sheer material. It feels so soft and smooth in my hand. I’ve always had a thing for expensive lingerie; it’s my guilty pleasure. I know it’s a habit I shouldn’t have, since it’s such an expensive one, but it’s one thing I refuse to give up. There’s no better feeling than having the softest silky material against your skin all day. The contents of my underwear drawer are probably the most expensive thing in my house.

What I lift out of the box has me gasping in delight. It’s a white Juliette babydoll with a lace-covered satin bodice and short flowing sheer skirt that I know will show more than hide. There’s also a pair of satin white low-rise bikinis that would barely cover the curve of my ass, and a piece of soft scarf-length material. I pull the long piece of fabric out and run my fingers over it. It’s just as smooth as the babydoll.