The Obsessed With Him Series: Complete Box Set (A Bad Boy Romance) (22 page)

“It will be ours,” he said.

I nodded. “I know.” He’d been very clear with me this whole time that everything that was his was mine, that both the apartment and the restaurant belonged to me, too. And yet I still wanted to build my own thing, wanted to have my own life, which was why I was planning on starting school.

“No, I mean, it will be half yours,” Colt said, tilting my chin up so that I was looking into his dark eyes. “Legally.”

I frowned. “You’re going to put me on the deed?”

He laughed, a deep laugh, and I loved the sound of it, loved that I could make him laugh. “Sure,” he said. And then he was serious, his tone turning husky. Even after six months, he still had a bit of a hard time showing emotion, but he was getting better. And I was getting better too, the two of us learning how to feel things. I hadn’t cut myself since I’d been with him. And then he was pulling away from me and the next thing I knew he was down on one knee and he was reaching into his pocket and pulling out the biggest diamond ring I’d ever seen.

“Oh my God,” I gasped, my hand flying to my mouth.

“Olivia,” he said. “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I want to spend my life protecting you, taking care of you, and loving you. Will you marry me?”

I was laughing and crying and saying yes and he was slipping the ring on my finger and then his arms were around me and he was kissing me and I couldn’t believe we were getting married.

“I love you so much,” he breathed.

“I love you, too.”

The sun dipped down low in the sky and I closed my eyes and let myself go.

W
e told
Marjorie the realtor to be expecting an offer on the restaurant the next day, then drove back to our hotel.

I couldn’t stop looking at my ring.

It was so bright and beautiful, sparking under the very last drops of sunlight that shone through the window of the Escalade.

When we got back to the room, Colt’s phone began to go crazy with texts.

“Who is it?” I asked.

“It’s everyone,” he said, looking down and frowning. “Apparently Cannon’s was written up in some magazine.”

I looked over his shoulder as he clicked on the link someone sent him. “Holy shit,” I said. “That’s Gourmet Magazine.”

My eyes scanned the article, picking up the phrases like
“delectable”
and
“blown away.”

Colt turned to me. “My dad,” he said. “He always wanted to be written up by Gourmet magazine.”

I nodded and squeezed his hand. “He would have been really proud of you.”

He swallowed. “I hope so.”

And then he turned to me, his eyes lingering over my body in the tiny sundress I was wearing.

“How did you get to be so sexy, Mrs. Cannon?” he breathed against my neck. His began to undo the straps of my top, sliding them down over my shoulders as I took a slow breath in.

“I’m not Mrs. Cannon yet,” I said.

“I want to marry you today,” he said. “Tonight let’s get married.”

I laughed. “I think that would be a little too last minute.”

“Tomorrow then.”

“But isn’t there… I mean, isn’t there anyone you want to invite?”

“No.” He brushed the hair from my bare shoulders and wound it around his hands, pulled me to him and kissed me, hard and deep. His tongue invaded my mouth, claiming me, letting me know that he might have committed to me emotionally, that I might have been able to break down some of his walls when it came to his heart, but that he was in charge of my body and always would be.

He continued his assault on my mouth, his hand still gripping my hair tightly, his other hand pulling down the front of my dress. I wasn’t wearing a bra, and he grabbed my breast roughly with his palm, his index finger and thumb finding my nipple.

I gasped and tried to pull away from the kiss as the blissful sensations roared through my body, almost too intense to take, but he held me tight, not letting me get away as we moaned against each other’s mouths.

When he finally let me go, my breath was coming in ragged gasps.

He grinned and lowered his head, sucking my hard nipple into his mouth.

“You like that, baby?” he murmured. when he finally unlatched.

“Yes,” I whispered.

“What do you want?”

“I want to fuck.” He loved when I said those words, loved when he made me talk dirty to him. And I loved it too, loved that he could take control of me, loved that he played my body and used it for his own pleasure.

He took off his shirt, letting his ripped body come into view, and I shivered at his six pack, his chiseled chest, his body carved from hard steel.

I ran my hand over his ab muscles, tracing them, but he grabbed my hand and pushed me down to my knees on the carpet.

“Take off my pants.”

I reached up and undid his pants and took them off him, watched as he grabbed his cock at the base and guided over my lips and into my mouth. I sucked on him hungrily, loving the feel of his dick in my mouth. I swirled my tongue around his engorged head, tasting his precum, letting the salty acrid taste fill my mouth as my pussy instantly flooded with a hot ache.

“Shit, baby, your mouth feels good.” He held me by the head and pumped his hips, his cock hitting the back of my throat as he fucked my face. “Spread your legs, I want to see that pussy while you blow me.”

I squatted and rocked back on my heels and hiked my dress up, then pushed my panties over to the side, giving Colt a view of my spread pussy.

He made me suck him until my mouth was sore and his dick was rock hard.

Then he laid me down on the bed and finished removing my dress, his hands sliding down my stomach and over the side of my hips, causing me to shiver in anticipation as he slid my panties off.

He grabbed me under the ass and pulled me to the side of the bed and then laid his body down on top of mine, covering me and taking away the cold shivers I’d gotten.

He kissed me again, his tongue tangling against mine and his hand was pushing my legs open, and then he was inside of me, hard and fast, pumping, thrusting, and I gasped at how big his dick was, how deep he was going inside of me.

No matter how often or how much Colt fucked me, his cock was so big that he still left me stretched open and sore.

After a second the tightness gave way to a pleasant ache, which morphed into exquisite pleasure as he began to fuck me harder and harder.

“Look at me fucking you,” he commanded and I looked down at myself, watching his dick buried in my pussy as my tits bounced.

He held me tight, fucking me harder and faster, his balls hitting my ass and his shaft grazing my clit every time he thrust into me.

“Come on my cock, Princess,” he groaned and I did, my pussy convulsing and my body shuddering as he unloaded his seed into me.

When we were both finished and our breathing had slowed, Colt rolled me over on the bed until we were lying next to each other.

“Colt!” I squealed as he grabbed at my sides and tickled me. “Stop!” I giggled and tried to squirm out of his grasp and finally he let me go.

“You hungry, Princess?” he asked, reaching for the phone.

I nodded, because of course I was hungry, and he already knew it. He knew my every need, my every desire, and so when he picked up the phone and ordered room service, he didn’t have to ask me how I wanted my steak done, he already knew. And he knew I would want French fries and roasted vegetables and he knew that I’d drink Diet Coke with no ice.

I rolled over on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, running my hands over the comforter and then putting my hand out in front of me and staring at my ring. It was beautiful. Just like my fiancé.

When the food came, Colt pulled on a pair of loose cotton pajama pants and wrapped me in one of his t-shirts and we ate while we watched TV.

When it was finally time for bed, he pulled my t-shirt off and stripped off his pants so that he was naked, too, snuggling me close the way he did every night.

I turned over so that I was facing him in the dark.

He grinned at me, that sexy soft grin of his, half cocky, half sensitive, and I remembered the way he was the day I first met him, how he’d made me dance for him, how I had no idea he’d be the man I’d fall in love with and yet there had been something there, too, something simmering beneath the surface.

I’d been taken and attracted to him even then. But I couldn’t have ever dreamed of being as happy as I was in this moment.

“Hi,” he murmured now and he took my cheek in his hand, ran his finger over my cheekbone. “You are so beautiful, Olivia.”

I closed my eyes and let his words wash over me. I had never felt so happy, had never imagined that a love like this could exist in the world, much less believe that a love like this could exist for me.

I let my eyes wander over his face in the soft light of the room, the curve of his brow, his sharp chin, his cheekbones. There was a tiny scar below his eye now from the fight he’d gotten into with his uncle, and I traced it with my finger.

“Are you happy?” I whispered.

“I’m so happy,” he said. “I cannot wait to marry you.”

My eyes welled with tears. “I can’t wait to marry you, either.”

“I don’t need anything but you,” he said and he pulled me close so that two of us were skin to skin, making me feel safe and protected and taken care of.

“Me neither.”

“Actually, there is one more thing I need,” he said, and I pulled back and looked at him as he grinned and slid his hand down over my hip bone and grazed my stomach. Then he leaned down and whispered in my ear. “A baby.”

I smiled as he kissed me.

I had everything I’d ever wanted.

Love.

Family.

Security.

I’d never thought it was possible, but it was.

And as I drifted off to sleep, for the first time ever in my life, I was right where I was supposed to be.

N
OAH

I
wanted
to fuck her as soon as I saw her. That curvy little body was all tarted up in a tight little black dress, and those nice round tits were practically spilling out the top. Her dark hair fell in loose curls around her shoulders, and she sipped on a drink, her full pink lips pretty and pouty and just made for sucking my dick.

I sat at the bar and watched her for a while, biding my time. She was at some kind of party – bachelorette from what I could tell, and it was almost enough to put me off the whole idea. Women at bachelorette parties were a particular kind of crazy, one I wasn’t sure I wanted to deal with.

A couple of blond women at the other end of the bar were staring at me, and I tried not to encourage them by making eye contact. Not that it was difficult. I couldn’t stop staring at that shapely little vixen on the other side of the room. Her dress hit just below the knee, and when she turned around, giving me a view of that gorgeous round ass, my cock got hard.

I was so transfixed that I didn’t realize one of the blondes had made her way over to me.

“Don’t I know you from somewhere?” she tried. I almost sighed out of boredom, but that was too rude, even for me.

“I doubt it,” I said, although it was entirely possible that she did know me from somewhere. Thankfully, I knew I probably hadn’t slept with her. She wasn’t my type – too blonde, too skinny, too much like a Barbie.

“No, I know I recognize you.” She motioned to her friend, another bottled blonde, to come over. “Alexa, isn’t this Noah Cutler?”

Apparently she didn’t think it would make more sense to just ask me if I was Noah Cutler. I took a sip of my drink and resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

From across the room, I watched as the curvy bombshell made her way to a table all by herself, peeling herself off from the rest of the party.

“Yes!” the blonde’s friend said. “You gave that speech at my graduation last year. I absolutely loved it.”

“I’m glad,” I lied. I didn’t give a shit if she loved my speech or not. College was bullshit, the kind of thing people thought they needed, when really, I hadn’t learned anything in college that I couldn’t have learned on my own.

I drained the rest of my drink and concentrated on the brunette. She turned toward me, pushing her hair back from her face, and I was struck again by her beauty. She happened to look up just at that moment, and our eyes met.

She turned away quickly, embarrassed.

I had to have her.

And then, just like that, I saw my opening.

Some dickhead guy was making his way over to her. Jealousy and possessiveness flooded me. She was mine. And I was going to make sure I had her tonight.

“Excuse me,” I said to the blondes.

And then I went to go claim my prize.

C
HARLOTTE

I
saw
the sexy stranger before he saw me.

He was standing in the corner of the bar, two beautiful blond women draped on his arm. One of the women was bent over, whispering something in his ear, and when she threw her head back and laughed, he glanced up and met my eye.

I quickly looked away, embarrassed that he’d caught me staring. Men like him – tall, dark hair, full lips, sexy stubble on his ruggedly handsome face –weren’t interested in women like me. Besides, I wasn’t here to meet a man. I was here for a bachelorette party.

Not that the party was anything to get too excited about. I hated parties as a rule, and bachelorette parties were a particularly heinous form of torture. Especially one where I didn’t know anyone but the bride, who was a fellow law student at Middleton University.

I thought coming to this party might help me meet some of my classmates – Cora seemed to know everyone in our class -- but all it was doing so far was reminding me how much I hated to socialize. Oh, and making me realize that Cora, even though she was engaged, apparently subscribed to the theory that whatever happened at bachelorette parties stayed at bachelorette parties, because she’d been throwing herself at different men all night. Right now she was out on the dance floor, grinding on a man wearing plaid dress pants.

I took a sip of my drink – ginger ale with cranberry, my usual, because it made me seem like I was drinking alcohol even when I wasn’t– and tried to look busy. The last thing I wanted was one of the party-goers to come over and try to drag me into their dance frenzy.

And then, suddenly, he was by my side.

No, not the sexy stranger I’d been trying to avoid staring at, but another man.

This one was paunchy, slightly balding, and had hairy knuckles.

“Let me buy you a drink, sweetheart,” he slurred. I sighed. Men like him always tried to hit on me. They thought that since I was considered a “bigger girl” they’d have more of a chance with me. What they didn’t understand was that just because I was carrying a few extra pounds didn’t mean I was desperate.

“No, that’s okay,” I said politely. I indicated the drink I was holding. “I already have one.”

He frowned, like he was trying to work out a particularly hard math problem. Then, brightening, he reached out, took the drink from my hand and
poured it onto the floor.
“There!” he exclaimed, proud of himself. “Now you need another one.”

I was so shocked, I wasn’t sure what the appropriate response was. The man leaned in and slung his arm over my shoulder. “Come on,” he said, his breath smelling of alcohol and garlic. “Lemme buy you a drink.”

“Leave her alone,” someone growled, and before I knew what was happening, the sexy man from across the bar had grabbed the back of the pudgy man’s shirt and had tossed him to the side.

“Hey!” the man protested. He stumbled for a few steps, almost hitting the table behind us, then readjusted his suit coat. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

But my knight in shining armor gave him a menacing look, and after thinking about it, the man slunk away, back to his to group of friends.

“You okay?” the gorgeous stranger asked. Up close, he was just as sexy, although less polished than I’d first thought. He wore an expensive suit, but his white shirt was unbuttoned at the top and rumpled, like he’d spent the day getting into fights instead of behind a desk.

“I’m fine.” My throat had gone dry. This man was big – tall, at least six foot three, with broad shoulders and huge hands. I was five ten and carried more weight than I probably should have – most men made me feel big and oafish around them, but this man made me feel tiny. I imagined him grabbing me with those big hands of his, and heat flooded my core.

“What were you drinking?”

I was way too embarrassed to tell him I was drinking cranberry and ginger ale. “Um, vodka and cranberry.”

He frowned, like this was unacceptable. He reached his hand up and motioned for the cocktail waitress. His sleeve slid back for a moment, revealing a beautiful silver watch and a strong-looking forearm. Not that I was surprised –Cora had chosen this bar precisely because it was supposed to be height of sophistication. But she must have gotten something wrong, because even though the clientele
did
seem sophisticated – mostly young professionals, out after work on a Friday night –a lot of them were already sloppy drunk. Not this man, though – this man was completely in control of himself and his surroundings.

The cocktail waitress appeared as if out of nowhere. “What can I getcha?”

“Two Manhattans,” the man said. He set his empty glass down on the waitress’s tray. I didn’t know what a Manhattan was, but I was pretty sure it had whiskey in it. Whiskey sounded dangerous and scary, the kind of thing you shouldn’t be drinking unless you had sophisticated tastes and a high tolerance for alcohol.

“Oh, no,” I tried. “I’ll just have a – ”

But the suited stranger flicked his wrist, sending the waitress away before I could finish.

He turned around and gave me a smile. “It’s good to try new things.”

“I try new things.” My tone was more defensive than I’d meant, but it was kind of a sore spot for me. I wasn’t known for being adventurous – in fact, the most adventurous thing I’d done lately was taken a hot yoga class – but this man didn’t know that. He didn’t know anything about me. And yet he was surveying me with a certain familiarity, like he could tell I was the kind of person who didn’t try new things. It was unnerving.

The man’s eyes raked up my body, like he was trying to decide what, if anything, he should do with me. Instantly, I felt self-conscious, and I shifted on my chair. “You here by yourself?” he asked.

“No.” I swallowed. “Bachelorette party.”

“Fun,” he said, sounding like he knew it was anything but. He gestured to the candy bracelet I was wearing, another one of Cora’s bright ideas. “What’s with that?”

“Oh,” I said, fingering it. “It’s … it’s kind of game. You know, for the party.” I gestured to the dance floor, where most of the party guests had morphed from dancing to completely over-the-top, crazy gyrating. Men, sensing their chance to possibly get lucky, had jumped into the mix, creating a colorful blur of sweaty bodies.

My companion didn’t even turn to look. “And?”

“And what?”

“And what are you supposed to do with it?” He reached out and tugged on the bracelet. His fingers against my skin sent an electric current flying up my spine. The elastic bracelet zinged back and hit my wrist.

“It’s too embarrassing to mention.”

“Try me.”

The waitress returned with our drinks, and the man grabbed them off the tray in one fluid motion and handed one to me. I hesitated. I didn’t usually drink. In fact, I’d just turned twenty-one.

“Well,” I said, taking the glass he was offering. “We’re supposed to get different men to bite one of the candies off, and then have them sign our arms.”

He laughed. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“I know.” I shrugged. “But how could I really say no? Everyone else was doing it.”

“Do you always do things just because everyone else is doing them?” A brief look of amusement crossed his face, like he couldn’t imagine doing something just because everyone else was. Then he reached out and took my arm, turning it over to inspect my wrist. “You don’t have any signatures.” His finger slid over my pulse point, then moved slowly up my elbow before he finally let go. His hands weren’t what I would expect from someone wearing such an expensive watch – his fingers betrayed something else, a hard past or maybe manual labor. They were manly and slightly rough, not the kind that came from typing briefs all day and dialing an Iphone.

I took a sip of my drink. It was definitely whiskey. Or, at least, what I imagined whiskey to taste like since I’d never actually
had
whiskey before. It burned going down, but I was glad. The sensation kept my mind off what was happening.

The stranger reached out and took my arm again, turning it over gently in his hand before raising it to his mouth. Then he reached down and slowly, deliciously, bit one of the candies off my bracelet. His lips were hot and soft, and I felt the quick flick of his tongue against my skin as he took the candy into his mouth.

Then, with a flourish, he picked the pen up off the table where the waitress had left our bill, and put a big X on my arm. It was like he was marking me, taking ownership of me, and the thought filled me with a weird little thrill.

“There,” he said.

“You’re supposed to sign your name.”

“But that would ruin the mystery.” He grinned, and I felt myself melt. I’d never understood how women could end up hooking up with guys they’d met in bars, but I was shocked to realize that if this man had asked me to go home with him right now, I would have done it.

“Charlotte! What are you doing over here all by yourself!” Cora’s voice came trilling through the crowd, and then she appeared at our table. The strapless dress she was wearing was hanging down over her chest, and you could see the outline of her strapless bra. Cora had a great body – tiny waist, long legs, perfectly proportioned – but somehow, her clothes never seemed to fit quite right.

“Oh,” she said when she saw the man standing next to me. “I didn’t realize you had company.” She held her hand out. “I’m Cora.”

I took another sip of my drink as disappointment flooded my body. Now that Cora was here, I would be left in the dust. I knew it was ridiculous – I’d just met this man, after all. And to be perfectly honest, I didn’t have time for a relationship, or even a hook-up. I was in my first year of law school, and it was demanding and crazy – I loved every minute of it, but it didn’t leave me much time for a personal life.

“I was just leaving,” the man said. He didn’t offer an introduction of his own. In fact, he didn’t really look at Cora at all. He just drained the rest of his drink, then turned around and returned to the blondes who’d been patiently waiting for him.

“What a jerk,” Cora said, obviously offended by the fact that the man hadn’t fallen for her charms. She looked down at my drink and wrinkled her delicate nose. “What are you drinking? Whiskey?”

“Yes,” I said defiantly, and took another sip, even though my throat was still burning from the last one.

“Well, come on, you need to dance.”

She grabbed my arm and pulled me onto the dance floor, where I spent the next hour dancing and trying not be obvious about the fact that I was looking for the man who’d drawn an X on my arm. But I didn’t see him again. He must have left the bar soon after Cora interrupted us.

Finally, at around nine o’clock, I decided that I’d had enough.

I told everyone I had to be up early the next morning, which wasn’t a lie. The library was waiting for me.

“Are you sure?” Kristin, another girl from our class, asked. She was drunk and slurring her words. “You should come with us to the next place.” She turned to Cora. “Cora, we’re going to the next place, right?”

“Yes, in just a minute,” Cora said. She’d found a man with a shaved head who’d eaten a candy off her bracelet and had decided to sign her ample cleavage instead of her arm as the instructions had indicated.