Red Hot Obsessions (226 page)

Read Red Hot Obsessions Online

Authors: Blair Babylon

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Collections & Anthologies, #Contemporary, #Literary Collections, #General, #Erotica, #New Adult

What? What? What? I screamed and screamed my lungs out, and I cried harder than ever because my heart hurt so bad. I gritted my teeth and slapped and knuckle-punched my dirty, filthy holes that made him do what he did. I’m slutty, I’m slutty, I’m slutty. She’s right. I got off on Tom Sawyer’s spank, and I spied on the neighbors for months. I
am
slutty. I’m slutty. I’m slutty. I’m bad.

“Addison.”

I fell, I drooped, I lost my mind. I was sobbing and screaming. I couldn’t tell if I was in light or dark. Hands were gripping me, and I clawed and squirmed. I broke free and ran, bursting through doors, but I was tackled into dirt and hay I think. I shrilled, “Don’t touch me, don’t touch me, don’t touch me. Don’t. Get your hands off me, you fucker! Don’t ever touch me again.”

Grabby hands were still after me, arms squeezed around mine, and my skin still burned with the bite of ants. But the beast who wouldn’t let me go, scooped me up and only held me tighter. He carried me somewhere, to his lair maybe, and laid me down on a mattress. He was rubbing me all over and kissing my face. I was too weak and broken to fight him off. I curled up in a ball and cried.

My mom was evil. My dead uncle was a monster. And I was a filthy, dirty slut, trapped in the clutches of a dragon who wouldn’t stop saying my name or touching me. Was he going to pinch me down there too, or worse? If only I had a prince. Wait. Don’t I?

Lights came on, but they hurt my eyes and exposed my ugliness. I covered my face. “No, turn it off, turn it off.”

“Addison, sweetie. You are scaring the shit out of me.”

The light disappeared. I was thankful for the blackness, the shield over my pain and shame, as well as the deep voice of my prince, slicing through the murk to find me. I wept like a baby, and he kissed my hair line and dragged fingers down my arm. This was not a dragon. He was my prince. My rogue. My Logan. He was here! I clawed at his skin. I got back! He smelled so clean and manly. He was rescuing me. I threw my arms around his neck and squeezed him so tight. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Don’t let me go. Please, just hold me forever. I didn’t mean it. I thought you were a monster. Hold me, hold me.” Moonlight seeped through the edges of the shade. That was enough light.

“Shit. You are tripping so hard. I don’t know what to do. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Just hold me.” I sobbed harder than ever. I couldn’t say it, put into words what I saw. Was it even real? If so, why didn’t I remember until just now? Why would my mom say that? I held him tighter and wrapped my legs around his body, “Just hold me, hold me, don’t let go. Please.”

He was crying himself, crunching back sobs as he kissed and caressed me. We hung onto one another and rubbed bodies in the dark for I don’t even know how long. Sadly, he stole his warmth from me when he knelt at the side of the bed and slicked my whole body, especially my backside, up with cooling cream. When he was done, he rolled back onto the braided rub and huffed into his hands. “Are you okay? I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you and trip you out like that. That’s never happened before, with the other girls I’ve flogged.”

I clicked my tongue on the roof of my mouth. I didn’t know what to say. “I don’t know what happened. I can’t breathe. I don’t know what’s real. I feel like I’m in a fog. I’m not all back yet. Will you come back to me please? I need you.”

“It’s close to 12:30, Addison. You need to get back.”

I huffed and sat up, then clutched my head. The room was spinning and a chill bit at my bones. “Whoa. Come back, come back to me, Sir.”

He stayed where he was, huffing like mad and shaking. Maybe he was dizzy too.

I shivered. My skin was way too cold and achy without his touch. Tears slid down my face. The thought of being away from him, even for a few hours to sleep, plunged pain deep into my heart. “I don’t want to leave you, Sir, but okay. Can we do breakfast?”

“Maybe. But don’t bank on it. I will likely sleep in.”

“Um...okay,” I blubbered and rubbed my face. “Um...” I was so totally weepy. After all he did to me tonight, the man deserved to fucking sleep in. What the hell was my problem? I couldn’t tell if he was being Dom-stern or curt. “Are you upset or something, Sir?”

“No. I just...I just feel bad. I didn’t know you’d crash like that. And don’t call me Sir.”

My stomach dropped and my heart started to race. “What? Why not? Are we out of the box?”

“Yeah. I don’t want to be all dominant right now. I need to unwind and think about shit.”

“Think about
shit
. Yeah, I’m right there with you.”

He helped me stand. “Wait here. I’ll go get the clothes I have for you.”

I seized his arm. “No! I don’t want you to leave me. Isn’t your house empty?”

He cupped my jaw and kissed my forehead. “It’s still raining. I’ll be right back, Addie. You can’t go back to the Manor in your birthday suit.”

“I have some clothes in my car,” I muttered, then gasped and lurched back. “What! Why did you call me that?”

“What do you mean?”

“You just said, ‘Addie’. Why? You’ve never called me that. Not even once.”

He shrugged and said, “I dunno. It’s cute.”

“Cute. Right.” If so, then why did it feel worse than ‘Bitch’? He called me all kinds of things, but not that, never that. It seemed so distancing, and it squeezed my heart to the point of pain. “Don’t
ever
call me that. Please. It’s a friend thing. We are way more than friends, aren’t we? We fucked.”

He paused for one second, before he puffed through his lips. “Yeah, of course. Don’t be silly. I love you, Babydoll.” He put on his damp clothes that were on the floor.

“Yeah. Love you too.” I squinted, watching him walk out and couldn’t help but cry when he left the carriage house. I cried the entire time, waiting for him to come back with my damn clothes. I turned on the bedroom light when the front door slammed upon his return.
He loves me. So why is he being so weird? I need him, I need him.

He was quiet when he reentered the room in a clean, dry outfit. He did help me dress and kissed my face, but I felt like we were losing something because of my damn freakout. I felt like I was back in the stranglehold of the black vines that were ripping me away from him. It was true! I was doused in terror, locked in a room by myself.

“Do you want me to drive your car back? I don’t think it’s safe for you to drive all the way home in your state. I’ll just walk back here.”

I nodded and cried into my fist.

“What’s wrong, Addison? Please don’t cry.”

Sniffing, I wiped my face and clutched my stomach with both hands. “I don’t know. I just don’t want to leave you. I feel so weird, shaky, sad and out of it. I don’t want to be away from you. I need to explain what happened, but I can’t get the words out. I can’t say it.”

“It’s okay. You can try and tell me tomorrow. All right?” He pulled me into his arms and stroked my hair. “I wish we had more time for loving and comfort, but we need to get you back.” He kissed my lips, slowly and softly. “I have some water for you and granola bars? Do you need any?”

“No. I only need you.” I sniffed again.

“I know, baby. I wish we had more time. You were out of it for so long.”

Holding my hand, he rubbed it with his thumb as he walked me to my car and helped me into the passenger seat. I was on the brink of bawling the entire time he drove me back. He parked the car on Victory Road. “I’m not sure what to do now. You can’t keep your car here. Can you drive the rest of the way?”

“Yeah. I’ll deal. It’s two turns. One and fifty hundred feet at most.”

He got out without another word, and I slid over and watched him walk away in my mirror. I was hoping for one more kiss, a lengthy one, or a stroke on my hair, or another, “I love you, Sweet Thing,” but I was too exhausted to chase him down and too terrified I’d get a huff or a moment of hesitation if I called him back. I was being ridiculous, such a damn baby. He did turn when he reached the corner to watch me maybe and make sure I got back safely. At least, that’s what I hoped. I drove the short distance without crashing into anything or hopping any curbs.

When I slipped into DG Manor with silence, I rushed to my room, praying no one would stop me because I knew I’d breakdown and crash right on the spot. In the clear, I smashed into bed in my clothes and button shoes and buried myself under the covers. Shayna wasn’t back yet, maybe she was in the Rec room, but Renee was in bed and already out cold. Great. The room smelled like her feet.

Sobs and sniffles pulsed out of me. What the hell! Did that actually happen to me? Did that fucker really pinch me like that? Did my mom actually say that?

I pulled my phone into my cover cave with me and texted, Call me, Sir...Logan. Please. I need you...even if it’s just to hear you breathe. Luv U.

I waited but I didn’t get anything. It was 2:18 when I finally gave up and stuck my phone on the desk beside my bed. My pussy was sore, deep deep inside. It felt cut and achy. But my heart hurt far worse and my mind was mush. Reliving my fuck in the rain, I fell asleep clutching myself between the legs.

I texted my fifth message at breakfast.
Why aren’t you calling me, Logan??? WTF! I need to sort SHIT out myself. Please call me!!!!
Probably the fake kind you pour out of a carton, the scrambled “eggs” the morning cook made tasted like paste. I gagged them down, but at least she’d kept up with the shopping this week. The berry salad she tossed together wasn’t too bad though and perked my taste buds a little with the tart bits of citrus.

Gloria, the house mother, asked if I was hung over. Yeah, she’d know all about that.

I just told her I felt queasy.

I sleepwalked through all my classes. I couldn’t say what happened in them or what any prof said. My body was shaking most of the day and my mouth was all dry and my fingers itchy.

With Logan not calling or texting me, I felt severed from him, torn in half and totally gutted.

I miss sucking your cock
, I wrote, hoping that a more sexual text would nudge him to write back. He didn’t. Maybe my whining was annoying. Maybe he needed space.
Space
was the very last thing I needed though. I wanted to crawl into his skin. I was still foggy and feeling weird and dizzy and now, abandoned and despised.

Can I worship you at some point today? I’d like to, but you’re not checking in. Were you hit by a car or something on the way back??? You are freaking me out! Seriously.

What the hell was going on? As soon as my last class was up, I tore over to his house and punched in the code at the gate. It said, ERROR. Error? I tried again and got the same message. He changed it? Already? That did not bode well. My nerves crackled and a boulder of anxiety landed in my gut and it made my body prickle. Not giving up that easily, I scaled brick, climbed over and landed on my feet then butt with an “Oooff”. I got up, dusted off and ran for the door, pounding it with all my might when I got there.

Geoffrey opened it with a sneer and a nauseating elevator gaze.

“Where’s Logan? Is he home?”

“Yes, but the Master of the house asks not to be disturbed.”

“I don’t fucking care what he says. Get out of my way, you goon.” I tried to bypass him and he twisted my arm, shoved my ass out the door and slammed it behind me.

“Ow. Fuck!” After pounding the door to no success, I scanned the estate and followed the mansion around to the back where Logan’s room was. I cupped my hands around my mouth as I shouted at his window. “You are a fucking coward, Logan. If you have something to say to me, then be a man about it and get it done. Don’t leave me in a lurch. If you are
un
-claiming me, then do it already. Release me, so I can move on and find another Dom. But I don’t want THIS to be over. We’re so perfectly fucked-up together. I miss our boxes. I need you. Please!”

I waited and got nothing. My heart burst, and I fell to my knees and cried and pounded the dirt. “I hate your guts, I hope you know. Errr. I hate you. You totally suck!”

My screamfest didn’t matter. Nor did the passage of time. Three days later, I still hadn’t heard from Sir, or idiot Logan, whatever the hell he wanted to be called now. Not a text, not a phone call, nothing. I tried to stalk him on Friday and catch him after his afternoon classes, waiting outside the doors like a teen with a crush on a teacher, but he skipped.

I was trapped in my bedroom with a goddamn pink light that was all whirl-whap with bars over the windows. I couldn’t get out and go back to my bliss. And a monster was in there with me, sitting in a chair in the corner, just waiting to pounce and pinch my clit in a vile, disgusting way. I needed Logan’s touch badly to override that horror. I needed his kiss, his commands, his sexy body.

Shayna was worried about my atypical moping, always looking at me like a homeless puppy and asking if I was okay.
Hell, no, I’m not okay.
But I didn’t tell her about my boxes with Logan nor about the monster with the book who may or may not have molested me. I lied and said my parents might be getting a divorce. They should. They weren’t even a couple anymore, if they ever were.

As much as I wanted to be brave and strong and push past my misery, Logan was all I could think about, and the lack of contact from my Dom weighed me down like a pallet of cement blocks. I still did the things he asked me to do on Monday for his list of expectations for the week, like fingering myself to the brink every time I went to the bathroom without allowing myself come, walking around with no underwear, buying a new toy—
licorice
of course—,wearing anal beads for at least two hours every night. And I sent him journal entries daily, especially regarding our scene. I didn’t tell him about how and why I crashed though. I wanted to work through that in person because I couldn’t tell what was real and what wasn’t. I really think it happened though and that my mom is bitchier than I ever realized.

I felt so robbed and crushed that Logan took my virginity and didn’t even have the consideration or heart to call to see if I was okay, if I was hurting, or if I still had marks from the flogger or the paddle or the crop, which I did, thank you very much, all over my ass and thighs, though they were sadly fading away and so close to gone.

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