Obsession (Stalker #1) (3 page)

Holy Mary, Mother of God. My head is spinning. Abby is my new drug of choice. Was there an old drug of choice? Perhaps some weed here and there, but nothing serious. Fuck me, who knew pussy could taste this sweet.
You know what that is? Million dollar pussy right there, folks!
And it’s going to be mine. Fuckin’ mine.

I pull her into me, spoon her, and she fits me like a fuckin’ glove. I didn’t know anything could feel so good. I kiss all along her back, which makes her squirm her tight ass right into my cock again. Oh,
he
thinks it’s time again, but Abby is clearly spent. She’s never had an orgasm like that before and I’m pretty sure she’s in shock it even happened, considering she was trying to rush me a bit. I need to take more time with her. A woman needs to feel like the man she is with believes her to be a goddess and Abby Osborne is that woman for me.

Why did I wait so goddamn long to be with her, anyway? Oh, that’s right! My fuckin’ cunt of an ex-wife, that’s why! I don’t normally refer to any woman in that capacity, but Tiffany is a downright bitch and is unfortunately the mother of my daughter, Isabelle.
Oh shit, I wonder if Abby even likes kids.
I’m sure she knows I have a daughter. So many conversations to be had, but I think for right now, I’m going to spoon this kick ass beautiful woman and fall asleep holding her.

And that’s exactly what I do.

         I fall into the best dreamless sleep.

I watched them fuck. I heard her screaming his name. He has some skills.
FUCK ME!!!
How can regular guys even compete with that? Abby actually passed the fuck out! I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like this in my years of watching.

I’ve been watching Abby a lot longer than the others because she is a fascinating creature. A body built of pure sin. I’ve seen Abby fuck before, but this was different. I think she might even like this guy Jake.
‘Jake, Oh God, Jake, please don’t stop,’
keeps echoing in my head. I want her to scream my name. I want to make her toes curl, make her body quiver and squirm by my own doing. I don’t know how I’m going to accomplish this feat. If I have missed my opportunity, I’ll be pissed. I can’t think about this anymore and I don’t want to watch her sleep comfortably in Jake’s arms. This is only making me angry and I’ve never felt this angry before.

I pace around my apartment running my fingers through my hair deciding I need another drink. I refill my glass and fucking down it. I’m not sure what I’m going to do, or how, and I need to figure it out. I have something in mind that might work and need to figure out the logistics of making it happen. I need one more drink and then I’m going to bed. As much as I hate it, I also fucking love watching Abby get fucked. I love watching the girl of my dreams writhe, squirm, and scream in pleasure all the while jerking myself off to it.
What?
She’s a goddess and I can hardly contain myself, so of course, I jerk off. I try to come at the same time I hear her scream. Fuck, I want it to be me that makes her scream like that. I want it to be my hard cock inside her sweet, fucking pussy. My patience is running thin and I need more contact. I just need to sleep on it.

I’m sure I’ll have a plan tomorrow.

I’m so sore and my body hurts in the most delicious of ways.
Why am I so hot?
Jake is still here spooning me. He didn’t leave? What. The. Fuck. Oh my God, what have we done? This is going to change everything. How could I be so careless to fuck a guy from work? One of my superiors, no less. Why am I always in a situation? Fuck it, let’s roll with it and see what happens.

I turn in bed to face Jake and he is so, so, I don’t know what the word is, and it’s killing me. I don’t want to call him beautiful, except that he really is beautiful. Nobody has ever made me pass the fuck out or orgasm that quick in all my twenty-nine years. EVER!!! I’m staring at him. I don’t want him to pass out from my morning breath. I need to brush my teeth, pee, and check to make sure I don’t look like Medusa.

I slide out of bed and pad over to the bathroom and get my first glance, and it’s so obvious that I was thoroughly fucked last night. I look down at my toes and see the little bite marks he left and I shiver.
Toes. Who fuckin’ knew?
A weakness I didn’t even know I had. I do my business in the bathroom, brush my teeth, and brush my hair a bit, and head back to bed. I see Jake is awake now.

“Good morning, Abby, how did you sleep?”

How did I sleep?! “
I don’t think I’ve slept that well ever, Jake.”

He grins, stretches out, and I notice how tight and toned his body is. He really looks so good under my covers. I move to put some clothes on.

“I’m going to go make us some breaky. So move that fine ass down to the kitchen when you’re ready. I hope you like French toast!” I holler, sashaying my ass down the stairs.

I know we need to talk about what happened and what this all means and blah, blah, blah. Talking about my feelings is not my strong suit at all. My words get jumbled. I say random shit that pops into my head because, as I have mentioned before, I have zero head to mouth filter.
Hey, at least I’m honest.
I start gathering the stuff to make my French toast; eggs, bread, milk, cinnamon, and vanilla. The tiny dash of vanilla is what makes them killer.
Seriously, try it!

I put orange juice on the counter and I get the kettle going for some tea. I’m setting out our plates when Jake comes down the stairs wearing his jeans from last night with no shirt. His feet are bare.
Oh, fuck me gently with a chainsaw, how am I supposed to function when he looks like a God in the morning?
I go back to minding the French toast. Jake comes up from behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. He starts kissing my neck.

“Jake, I’m going to burn breakfast if you keep that up.”

He squeezes me a bit tighter, whispering in my ear.

“Abby, I can’t wait to eat you- err, I mean eat your French toast. It smells delicious, as do you, baby.”

Man, oh man, am I ever in trouble!
Breakfast is ready and he pours himself some juice and then makes me tea.

“Jake, we need to talk.” I sit across from him at the table and wonder how the hell he knows what I like in my tea.

“I know we do, baby, and I’m going to make this super easy for you. I like you, Abby. I have for a while now. I’m not sure what made me so bold last night, but I’ve had my eyes on you and I’m pretty sure you know it. I need you to know that I have a daughter. She’s three years old and her name is Isabelle. She is the light of my life and will always come first. I’m not sure how you feel about kids and you mentioned something about endo-whatever and a Mirena. I’m not sure what you meant by all that, but, I know this; you and I are probably going to be a complete complicated mess, but I can handle it if you can.”

Well, there you go. Nothing like laying all your cards on the table. He starts diving into breakfast like this is the most natural conversation we could be having.

Well, all righty then, let me hit him with my shit and see how this goes.

“Jake, I know about Isabelle and think she’s adorable. I could squish her face, she’s so cute. I’m not ready to meet her yet and hope you understand that. I need time to process what that means for me. As for my endometriosis, the short of it is basically I have an insane amount of tissue that grows all over my reproductive organs. It’s literally everyfuckinwhere. I’ve had four surgeries and I have been a guinea pig for medications like nobody’s business. It runs in my family and it started affecting me when I was twenty-two. Fuckin’ genetics… Anyway, I’m twenty-nine and have never been pregnant, Jake. Like ever. I had thought I wanted kids one day, but it seems my uterus hates me and won’t cooperate. I’ve come to terms with it and so has my family. Right now, the endo is under control, but can come back at any time. Hence, the four surgeries. The last one seemed to work and I’ve been ok for the past three years. I’m not in pain anymore, thank the uterus gods. The doctor says the hormones from the Mirena, which is a form of birth control called an IUD, will benefit my condition. So far it has, and I feel better than I have in years. You are actually lucky you missed all the shit I had to go through.”

I look down at my food, trying not to look pitiful. I don’t want pity.

“So you can’t have kids and that’s just that?” Jake asks, looking a bit confused.

Was I not clear?
“Nope, not in the cards for me, I guess.”

We finish our breakfast and I go to clean up when Jake stops me.

“Abby, I’ll clean up. Your French toast was amazing and the cook should never have to clean.”

Who am I to argue with that!
“Thanks. If you don’t mind, I am going to take a shower. Oreo! Come get your breakfast! Jake, whatever you do, don’t touch Oreo’s ears or tail.”

I start the shower to give the water some time to heat up, and then head to my bedroom to strip. Talking with Jake isn’t nearly as hard as I thought it would be. I know our lives are about to flip upside down and inside out, but hey, sometimes life is about taking chances. I go to the shower and stick my hand under the water to test the temperature. It’s just right. I hop in and let the water pound on my back. I have a massaging shower head and it feels so good. I could stand under here forever. Instead, I replay my conversation with Jake over in my head and wonder if I can handle what is about to come my way.

He seemed really sad about the fact that I can’t have kids of my own and I hope that’s not a deal breaker since I have zero control over my uterus. I always took it as a sign that maybe I was never supposed to be a mother. I don’t know how people do it. I mean, it’s hard enough taking care of myself most days. Now that I’m thinking about it, none of my friends have kids yet. Weird…  I think Nikki, or was it Nat, who dated some dude with kids. I’m not sure, but I do know it didn’t work out. Things to think about at some point I suppose.

I finish up and make my way to the bedroom.

How can a woman like that not be able to have kids? Abby would make a kick ass mom, no doubt. She says she’s ok with it. My Spidey senses tell me she’s ok with it only because she’s got no choice but to be ok with it. I finish up the dishes and set them to dry on the mat on the counter. Abby can cook, too. Bonus! I mindlessly organize things in her kitchen, my thoughts are interrupted when I hear her phone chirp. It’s in view on the counter and I see a text from Dallas
.

Hey, you twat waffle whore! Are we still on for tonight?

What in the fuck is a twat waffle?
I shake my head because Dallas is always calling The Shelter to talk to Abby. Dallas is quite the chatterbox and speaks at super human speed. I usually don’t understand half of what she says. I always hear Abby telling her to slow the fuck down and speak at a speed of Mach two instead of Mach twenty. I overhear Abby talk to her cousin all the time and know that Abby is the Maid of Honor in Dallas’ wedding. It’s in February, which isn’t all that far away considering we are in September now.

I fucking hate weddings with a passion, and if I could take back marrying that bitch, I surely would. Except, I love my daughter with all my heart. She is my princess, my light, my heart. Actually, I need to call Tiffany to make sure I’m still picking Izzy up later, since it’s my night with her.

I hear Abby as she emerges from the bathroom. I want to see her dripping wet, so I make my way up to her bedroom.
Fuck me- did my heart just stop?
Abby is wet, naked, and on the bed with a come hither look in her eyes.
Oh, I’ll hither all right.

“Jake. Jeans off. NOW.”

I’m not one to argue and strip my jeans, chucking them to the floor. My cock is gravitating towards her all on his own.

“Baby, spread your fuckin’ legs and lie the fuck back down.”

I literally dive into the bed like I’m going swimming in her freshly washed million dollar pussy. I spread her legs further apart and am staring at her cunt, when it hits me.

“Abby, what in the fuck is a twat waffle?”

Abby starts shaking and the laugh that comes from her is quite ear deafening.

“Oh my shit, Jake! Why are you nose deep in my pussy asking me what a twat waffle is? Bahahahahahaha!” She starts to squeeze my head between her legs, screaming that she’s going to pee.

“FUCK NO! ABBY! Don’t pee with my face down here, let me go!” She loosens her legs from around my head and I peek up at her red face. Swinging her legs over my head, she falls off the bed. She laughs harder.
Is this chick ok?
Abby runs to the bathroom. Thank fuck, because I’m not down with drinking pee. I can still hear her laughing as she’s peeing.

“Oh my shit, Jake, where the fuck did you hear that?” She’s still giggling.

“Your phone chirped while I was cleaning up and I saw Dallas calling you a twat waffle whore.” I hear her flush and she laughs even more.

The sink faucet turns on, and I hear her muttering, “Fuckin’ Dallas is the twat waffle whore.”

“Abby, what in the fuck is it? Is it gross?” She can’t even keep a straight face.

“Well, Jake, remember my books you were also fingering last night, hmmmm? Well, Dallas and I both read mostly the same books. Tara Sivec is where we heard it from and now it’s kind of stuck with us. So, if you’re going to be my man, so to speak, you better get down with the lingo,” Abby says, pulling on her jeans.

This chick is whacked and I’m pretty sure I’m in love with her.
Fuck Me. “
You are something special, Abby Osborne. I hate that the mood is ruined, but I have to make arrangements to pick Isabelle up a bit later. I was hoping I could see you tonight.”

Let’s see how this plays out. The worst she’ll do is tell me to fuck off and say she doesn’t want to be anywhere near Izzy. She did mention that she’s not ready to meet her yet. The words are already out there.

I need to be ready to shake it off if she says no.