Obsession (20 page)

Trying to keep the hurt out of my voice, I fiddled with my hair. “Yeah, because why the hell would any guy actually like me and want to be with me?”

Wincing and scrunching up her nose, Joy held her hands up. “Okay, that came out really bad.”

“It did.”

Somewhere above us, someone flushed their toilet and our cheap ceiling did little to muffle the rush of water while Joy pondered. “Don’t get me wrong, you are a stone-cold fox and I’ve been telling you that for years, but he seemed so sophisticated and…um, worldly when he was here.”

“Joy, just spit it out.”

“Don’t get mad, his body is smoking and that hair is something else, but isn’t he a little…mature for you?”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“It’s just that, when he brought you home from the club that night, I couldn’t help but notice how different he was from us, how out of place he looked in our shithole. That gold watch of his was a custom job and it probably cost as much as a year’s tuition. I’m guessing from your new outfit that he likes to buy you things, expensive things. What kind of guy does that for a girl he barely knows? Does he want to be your sugar daddy or something?”

“No, he’s not my sugar daddy. I know it sounds crazy, but he really likes taking care of me. We went to some luxe golf club and got a couples’ massage,” I hoped she didn’t notice the way my cheeks were heating, “then had lunch and went for a walk through their gardens. He held my hand and talked to me, told me about growing up poor and how he loved being able to take care of his mom before she died.”

“Wow, he talked to you about his mom dying? That’s big.”

“I know.”

“Did you talk about your sister?”

“I did, and I cried a little, but not my usual breakdown. And he held me while I cried, didn’t say anything, just held me.”

I thought of his response when I’d sent him a picture of me in my new outfit, his praise and admiration, the way he made me feel so beautiful, so good.

Joy glowered at me.

“What?”

“You keep spacing out and getting this silly smile on your face like you’re high.” She gnawed on her lower lip while staring at me hard enough to make me squirm. “This is worse than I thought. You really like him.”

“I
told
you I like him.”

“He sounds pretty intense, Hannah. I’m not sure if you need that type of guy in your life.”

“What type of guy?”

“The type I’m not sure you’re ready for.”

Joy was a fixer. She liked to find broken people and attempt to fix them, which worked out pretty much never. I was her favorite project, a childhood friend she’d seen shatter before her eyes. Her almost maternal need to take care of me probably wasn’t healthy, but it made both of us happy in a completely dysfunctional, codependent way.

I knew this because she’d announced that revelation our freshman year after her first day of Psych 101. Yep, one psych class and she was an expert on the workings of the human mind. When I’d tried to argue with her about it, she’d simply waved my objections away and said our codependency was healthy, that it was my relationship with Kayla and the mental scars that my parents left behind that were the toxic issues in my life.

“You’ve always looked out for me, and I probably wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for you taking care of me, but you need to let go a little bit. I’m an adult, and I promise you, what I have with Leo is special and it is mutual. I’d appreciate it if you respected my decision, as crazy as Leo liking me may seem to you.”

The look on her face would have been funny if I didn’t see the hurt in her wide eyes. “I just don’t want to see you destroyed again. It’s painful, Hannah, to watch you emotionally harm yourself over and over again. It’s like watching you cut yourself and not being able to stop you from slicing into your skin.”

My stomach clenched at that brutal imagery—and I had a sudden revelation of my own.

Shit, why hadn’t I thought of it before?

Joy’s cousin had killed herself when we were kids, and Joy had taken it hard. I remember having long discussions with her about death, me trying to deal with losing my sister and Joy trying to deal with losing a cousin who’d been more like a sister than her own. At twelve, these had been hard conversations, and it had been a dark time in both our lives, but we’d gotten each other through it.

It had been Joy who’d been there for me when Tiffany had finally died after spending months in a coma. It had been a hard, bitter process, made all the more difficult by my parents’ inability to face reality. At twelve, I felt more like an adult than they did as the doctors argued that they were merely prolonging Tiffany’s suffering by claiming they had faith she’d wake up cured. When their faith had failed them and they went insane with grief, it was me who’d ended up talking to the funeral parlor on the phone when they’d called, needing details for the ceremony. Thankfully, Joy’s mom took over and dealt with the arrangements after I asked her what I should dress Tiffany in for the funeral.

My heart briefly ached, the remembered pain of attending my little sister’s funeral, of watching her go into the earth, still had the strength to wound me all these years later. Then again, I guess you never really got over that kind of loss, and it would pop up when you least expected it. A song would remind you of them, or a joke they’d find funny, and you’d think about them like they were alive for just a moment, just a taste of what life used to be like when they were there to light your world.

Then you’d remember they were gone and your heart would die all over again.

“Look, I swear to you, Leo is a good guy. I got to know him this weekend and I really like him. Please, just give him a chance. It’s not like we’re getting married or anything, we’re…” I couldn’t think of how to put my complicated feelings into words. “We’re building something good.”

Once again, that familiar protective look came into her eyes, but without the fire. “I don’t know if a weekend fuck-fest really counts as getting to know him, but I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt. After all, he could have easily taken advantage of you at the club, or just tossed your ass into a cab, but instead he personally drove you home then carried you to bed. And the look he gave you as he left after bringing you home…my panties combusted just from being in the same room as you two. I figured he’d come back, I just didn’t expect you to disappear for three days when he did and return dripping in diamonds. Then again, you are a sweet young thing. Bet he hasn’t had pussy as tight as yours in years.”

Not liking the thought of Leo being with any woman, I chucked a throw pillow at Joy’s head. “Shut up!”

Wiggling her fair eyebrows in an obscene manner, she giggled. “Mmm, yeah, nice, fresh college girl snatch. Bet he ate it like a fat kid left alone with a hot batch of his favorite cookies.”

“Knock it off, weirdo, I have to get ready for Leo.”

“I bet you do. He’s gonna be all, ‘Oh, Hannah, I’m so glad you trimmed your beaver for me.’”

“That is a horrible impression of the male voice; you sound like a drag queen with a sinus infection.”

Picking up the pillow, Joy stood and said again in an artificially deep voice, “Oh, Hannah, it’s so goooodd, your pussy is so tight I could hook a hose up to it and use it as a vacuum.”

“Shut up!” I scream-laughed. “You are so deranged.”

Joy smacked around her imaginary dick before humping the pillow.

“Your pussy is so tight, you must use a needle as a dildo,” Joy fake moaned as she tried to keep from laughing.

“Stop, you’re going to make me pee my pants!”

“Oh baby, take that big, beefy blood sausage of lust in your tight, wet hotdog bun.”

“That’s just disgusting.”

When she began thrusting into the pillow, I couldn’t help but fall back into the sofa, laughing. “What is wrong with you? Seriously, knock it off, you crazy hooker.”

“Now tell me, you naughty little slut bucket. Who. Is. Your. Dad. E?” Wiggling her hips like Elvis on steroids, she yelled, “Who owns that tight pussy? Take that big ol’ porn star Daddy dick. Oh baby!”

A knock came from the door and I managed to lurch up from the couch, Joy still too intent on fucking our throw pillow into submission with exaggerated manly groans and excessive of use of the word “cunt” to even hear that someone was here.

When I peeked through the eyehole, I felt a heady rush of tingles from the pit of my belly explode into my bloodstream. Happiness filled me at the sight of Leo standing on the other side wearing a dark gray t-shirt that lovingly hugged his muscular frame, his hair pulled back in a tight man-bun.

Hell yes he was older, and hell yes he was out of my league, but if he seemed as into me as I was him, then I was just going to thank fate and accept her gift instead of questioning everything to death. Damn, it was kind of refreshing to let all that useless fretting go. Liberating even.

Hearing Joy still yelling in the living room—once she got on a roll with something that amused her it took her a while to wind down—an evil impulse came over me and I quietly opened the door.

Leo’s thick, light brown eyebrows rose up as I whispered, “Shhhh, follow me.”

He did as I asked and I was practically choking on my laughter as we snuck up on Joy, who was now either pretending to have a screaming orgasm, or having a seizure while grinding against the pillow like a stripper on payday.

I waited for a pause in her theatrics, right after she moaned out about how good it felt to fill my pink taco up with her man mayonnaise, then cleared my throat. “Excuse me, Joy, this is Leo. I believe you’ve met before?”

She froze, completely, then I swear the only part of her body that moved was her wide eyes as they rolled to look at us. “Uhhhhh…”

Leo merely smirked while he looped an arm around my waist, drawing me closer. “Nice to see you again, Joy. Hannah thinks very highly of you.”

Rolling over, she flipped her wayward curly blonde hair out of her face as she awkwardly clambered to her feet. “Uh, hi. This…this wasn’t…”

Laughing, I leaned into Leo and hugged him tight then looked up at him, giving Joy a chance to pull herself together. “You’re early.”

“I was in the neighborhood and hoping you’d be home.”

“What were you doing in the student ghetto?”

“Hoping you’d be home.”

To my delight, he cupped the side of my face and slowly brought his firm lips down to mine, the merest brush of his skin tightening my internal muscles as my pussy began to grow more sensitive. My mouth parted on a gasp and he swept in with delicate and controlled strokes of his warm tongue that devastated me. A small, sexy-as-hell groan escaped him when he buried his head against my neck then took in a deep inhalation against my skin, the warmth of his gusting breath feeling like silk against me.

“I missed you,” he murmured.

Smiling, I held on to his broad shoulders as he brushed his lips over my banging pulse, my eyes closed to better absorb the feel of him. “I missed you too.”

Joy cleared her throat. “Can I offer you anything to drink, Leo?”

He stiffened then moved the slightest bit away from me, a serious look coming over his face as he gently said, “It’s Mr. Brass. Only Hannah gets to call me Leo.”

“Are you serious?”

“Completely.”

She blinked a couple times and I could see she was equal parts scared and irritated. “Okay, Mr. Brass, would you like something to drink?”

“I’m afraid I’ll have to decline. Hannah and I have plans.” He grasped my hand in his own then raised it to his lips. “If she has no objections, I’ll be keeping her until her finals on Wednesday.”

“I’ll need to study,” I said in a breathy voice more suited for the bedroom than my living room.

He ran his knuckles down my cheeks and I noticed fresh cuts on the back of them. Grabbing his hands, I examined them and they also appeared swollen. Concerned, I looked up to find him watching me with that stupid void expression of his that I hated. His mental walls went up and I couldn’t get a read on him at all. It was like I’d been receiving his signal loud and clear, only to find nothing but static where he’d once been.

“What happened to your hands?” I raised one to my mouth and kissed his poor knuckles.

“Hard workout,” he muttered. “Got carried away while I was fighting.”

I could just picture him in some kind of silky shorts, prowling around a boxing ring, but I didn’t like the way he was so casual about his body suffering abuse. “Well, try to be more careful in the future. Seeing you hurt, it bugs me.”

The connection between us blazed to life as his dark gaze lightened, turned to milk chocolate and filled me with happiness as warmth and happiness encompassed me. “That’s sweet, baby, but don’t worry, I’m fine. Grab your stuff, especially what you need to study. I’ll help you.”

“You’ll help me study?” All kinds of debauched images came to mind and I pressed my legs together to ease the sudden ache.

Chuckling, Leo gave my ass a little smack. “Yes, now go get your things. Don’t bother with clothes. I have plenty for you at the house.”

“Leo, you didn’t have to do that.”

“I know, but I want to. There’s a difference.” He smacked my ass again, “Go.”