Lavish Obsession

by Charlotte Byrd

A knock at the door sends my heart into my throat.

  I’m more scared than I thought.

  Who am I going to see on the other side?

  I refuse to let his name pop into my head, but sometimes our thoughts get the best of us.

  What if it’s Abbott?

  What if he’s here to have a private conversation with me?

  I look around the room for a sharp object or an escape plan.

  I kick myself for not looking for either earlier.

  And now it’s too late.

  Another knock on the door.

  “Come in!” I say, reluctantly.

  My voice cracks in the middle. I clear my throat.

  The door swings open.

  It’s him.

  A lump forms in the back of my throat, the kind that sends tears streaming down my face.

  He runs up to me and takes me into his arms.

  He whispers something into my ear, but I can’t quite make out any of it.

  I wrap my arms around him and bury my head in his chest.

  Then he lifts up my chin and places his lips onto mine.

  Chapter 20 - Everly

  When I can’t believe it…

  It takes a while for us to pull away from one another.

  We lose ourselves in each other’s arms and spend a few minutes just running our arms around each other’s bodies.

  Is this real?

  Am I really touching Easton?

  Is he really touching me?

  All the contact doesn’t go far.

  The clothes stay on, but my thoughts continue to wander. I haven’t seen or smelled or touched or been near Easton for so long that I feel feverish.

  It’s like I’ve been on a diet and finally I’m allowed to binge. It’s a crude analogy, I know, but it’s how I feel.

  I want him.

  I crave him.

  Now, that I finally have him here, all alone, I want to take him into my arms and do dirty things to him.

  And I want him to do dirtier things to me.

  Probably, feeling the same way that I’m feeling, starved for love, Easton starts to nibble on my earlobe and then kisses me up and down my neck.

  I tilt my head back in pleasure.

  My legs open on their own accord.

  He runs his hands down my thighs and I run mine on top of his pants. He is hard and welcoming, calling me to him.

  I’m about to climb on top of him, when I suddenly pull away.

  Tears again start to run down my face.

  I’m so overwhelmed with emotion that I can’t seem to get ahold of myself.

  “I’m so sorry,” I whisper.

  Without asking me to explain, Easton takes me into his arms and cradles me.

  “Why are you sorry?” he asks over and over.

  As tears stream down my face, I tell him how much I’m just sorry for everything that has happened.

  “You don’t deserve to be here. This isn’t fair.”

  He gives me a shrug and wraps his arms tighter around me.

  I cry, and cry and I feel stupid and silly for crying, but then I cry some more.

  I know that my tears are coming from exhaustion.

  I am spent and tired and out of control.

  Nothing in this place is mine and I don’t have influence over anything.

  I feel like a ping-pong, just bouncing against the walls, going with the flow of the force that’s impacted on me.

  But I’m not a plastic ball.

  I’m a person, with feelings and emotions, and a sense of self.

  At least, that’s what I had before.

  “I’m so sorry that I’m taking our time up with this,” I say, brushing my tears off my cheeks with the back of my hands. “You really don’t need this. I’m just feeling a bit…overwhelmed. Too emotional.”

  “It’s okay. It’s really okay. I’m here for you.”

  It takes me a few more minutes to gather my composure.

  I wipe my eyes.

  The tears feel good to come out; they are like a release of energy that has been stored up too long.

  I wouldn’t say that now, finding myself in his arms, I feel like I don’t have to be strong anymore.

  I don’t believe that tears are a sign of weakness, but rather just being in touch with your feelings.

  It’s more like they are simply a release of all the negativity and sadness and helplessness that I’ve been storing inside of me for way too long.

  After a few minutes, I wipe my eyes for the last time and no more tears emerge. Whatever needed to come out, came out and now I feel a bit more at peace.

  “Are you okay?”

  Yes, I nod.

  Easton leans over and gives me another warm hug, perhaps for good measure.

  “I missed you so much,” I say. “How are you?”

  We talk for a bit about how things are.

  How he’s feeling. Fine.

  How they’ve been treating him. Fine.

  He doesn’t go into much detail and whatever he does say basically comes down to “I’m fine.”

  I don’t believe him, but the more I press, the more he insists that he’s fine.

  “Listen, I don’t really want to talk about that here, you know? I mean, I’m being treated fine, but the trial is going to begin and then I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

  I can hear the fear in his voice.

  I see it in his face as well.

  I feel helpless to do anything about it.

  So, instead I try to change the subject.

  “Why do you think they brought us here? Together?”

  He shrugs.

  “I had no idea where they were taking me when they brought me here.”

  “Me either,” I say.

  He looks around the walls and the ceiling.

  Then he gets up from the couch and picks up the lamp.

  He flips it over in his hands and examines it closely. He does the same thing with the phone on the end table.

  It’s a typical hotel room phone, large, plastic: and filled with buttons, many of which are labeled.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  But instead of answering me, he flips the phone over and uses a pair of tweezers he found in the drawer to open the back.

  Inside, there’s just a mess of wires.

  He looks them over carefully and then puts the plastic cover back on.

  I ask him again, but again he doesn’t respond, just giving me a small shake of the head. He continues to make his way around the room looking for something.

  But what?

  I sit on the couch and watch him unscrew every lightbulb and look under every device. When he’s finally satisfied that he has searched the entire room completely, he comes back to the couch and sits down next to me.

  “This room isn’t bugged,” he says.

  I stare at him, unsure as to how I’m supposed to react to this.

  “They are not recording what’s happening here. They aren’t even watching.”

  I shrug. “So, what does that mean?”

  He looks at me confused and then opens his mouth to explain. But the the words don’t come exactly.

  “Well, um…I don’t know exactly but it means something, right? I mean…it has to?”

  I shrug. It does sound rather significant.

  “Who do you think is responsible for bringing us here? I mean, in arranging this whole thing?” I ask.

  Easton shrugs. “I’ve been trying to figure that out ever since I saw you here. But no one comes to mind. I mean, who would want us to be together? And why?”

  “Mirabelle?” I ask.

  “Mirabelle!?” He shakes his head. “She’s one of my father’s oldest employees. She is nice, but she is very loyal to him.”

  “I don’t know. She and I have gotten really close. I mean, she has been really kind to me. And she knew how heartbroken I was over this whole thing.”

  Easton nods.

  I see him processing th
e information, but not really agreeing with my assessment.

  “If it’s not her, then who?”

  He thinks about it for a moment. “Tiger.”

  I don’t even know what that is.

  “That’s my attorney’s name. Well, his nickname.”

  That still doesn’t make sense to me, so Easton explains.

  He tells me about Tiger and how he got the impression that he really wants to help him.

  “But what would arranging this meeting accomplish?” I ask. “I mean, what’s the point?”

  Easton doesn’t know the answer to that anymore than I do.

  “Let’s not worry about this,” he says after a moment. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It does,” I insist.

  “Well, it does, but not that much. There’s something else I want to do right now.”

  He pulls me closer to him and presses his lips onto mine.

  Part Five

  Chapter 21 - Easton

  When the world fades away…

  My hands make my way down her neck and toward the top of her breasts. As her breathing speeds up, I feel the way they rise up and fall down in uneven intervals.

  I am torn between wanting to undress her and get inside of her as quickly as possible and extending this moment so that I can savor it and make it last.

  As I kiss her, I open my eyes to see how she’d like for this to proceed.

  But she seems lost in the moment.

  I let my eyelids drop back down and decide to let the moment take me wherever it wants.

  My hands make their way down her body.

  Under her clothes, I feel the slimness of her waist.

  I trail my fingertips across her thigh. Her legs open up to welcome me further and I accept.

  When I tug at her pants to pull them off, she clenches her legs and my arms to stop me. But only for a moment.

  Then she lets go and I continue.

  I pull off my shirt and she runs her fingertips over my stomach, feeling the outline of each muscle.

  I tighten my core to really give her something to grab onto and she sighs in response.

  “You are so…hot.”

  I kiss underneath her earlobe and laugh a little at her lack of eloquence.

  “You are pretty amazing yourself,” I say, pulling off her top and bra.

  I glance at the freckles around her body and take my lips down along each one, pausing for a kiss.

  The pink of her nipples distracts me and when I press my lips to them, they harden against my tongue.

  Her hair falls in natural waves around her body and it gets tangled up in my fists as I make my way down her body.

  She runs her fingers down past my belly button.

  I need her to touch me there, I need her to grab it, but she doesn’t.

  Instead, she circles back up and smiles.

  “Are you teasing me?” I ask, climbing on top of her.

  We are both nude now and whatever restraint I had before is all but gone.

  “Just a little,” she jokes.

  I push her shoulders down with my hands and take pleasure in her little moan.

  My body drapes over hers and now she’s so small under me that I can barely see her at all.

  But I feel her.

  Her hands on my skin.

  Her fingernails digging into my shoulder blades.

  Her moaning below me.

  Her saying my name.

  Her legs open up and she welcomes me inside.

  I thrust myself into her as she pulls me closer.

  My hands get tangled up in her hair as I cradle her head and kiss her neck.

  She licks my lips and moans louder into my ear.

  I run my hands down her body, giving her butt a little pat.

  This prompts her to grab my butt cheeks with both hands and squeeze them with all of her strength.

  We start to move as one.

  One motion.

  Riding the same wave.

  Our breathing matches the rhythm of our bodies and speeds up when we speed up. Her moans get louder and louder.

  Her whispers of my name turn into yells. I can’t hold on anymore.

  When she yells my name at the top of her lungs and falls limply under me, I start to move my pelvis faster and faster.

  And then, suddenly, all tension reaches a climax and then, poof. It vanishes from my body.

  Whatever energy was propelling me all this time goes away with it.

  I lower myself down on top of her and close my eyes.

  “I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” Everly whispers.

  Chapter 22 - Everly

  When we’re alone…

  Lying in the afterglow of what happened in his arms, I feel myself relaxing and floating away.

  Never in a million years did I think that they would let us do this, yet here we are.

  And for a brief moment, my mind isn’t occupied with all the questions about why and how, but rather with simply enjoying the moment.

  Easton rubs my shoulders and plays with my hair, without saying a word.

  I don’t know how much time passes as we simply lie here.

  Alone.

  Together.

  The way it’s supposed to be.

  “Do you ever think what our life together would be out there?” I finally ask.

  “All the time.”

  “Me, too.”

  “What do you think it will be like?” he asks.

  I think about it for a moment.

  My ideal life? That’s hard to imagine from York.

  “I just want to take you back home,” I finally say. “I want to show you my tiny apartment and I want to be there with you.”

  He nods.

  “Before I got here, I was really not grateful for what I had. I mean, I had this job that I thought was pretty boring. I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life. I felt like everyone was living this amazing life but me. And now? Now, I realize that I all need in my life to make me happy is you.”

  Easton laughs.

  “Well, no, not really. But you know what I mean.”

  He shakes his head.

  “I may still not want to go back to my old job, but I would be grateful just to not be here anymore. That would be enough. And if I could be back there in my apartment with you…my life would be pretty perfect.”

  Easton nods and kisses the top of my head.

  “All I need is you,” he finally says. “I’ve seen what all this power and money can bring and I don’t want any of it. Maybe there’s another way to have it, but here on York, it comes with a lot of blood on your hands.”

  I nod.

  “I just want to go somewhere and start my life with you. I don’t care where as long as it’s far, far away from here.”

  We lie in silence for a moment, trying to imagine what that would be like. To not be here anymore. But then my thoughts quickly drift back to reality.

  “What’s going to happen with the trial?” I ask.

  “I have a good lawyer. At least, I think he’s good. I guess he’ll do his best.”

  “You really think that your father will want you to go trial? I mean, he really thinks you killed Dagger?”

  Easton nods. “Don’t you?”

  “No,” I say, shaking my head.

  I’ve had my doubts before, but looking at him now, I am certain of the fact that he’s innocent.

  Even if he had cause, and it would’ve been justified, I’m certain that he did not kill him. I know it’s not very scientific.

  I know that it’s just a feeling.

  But sometimes, a feeling is all you have.

  Sometimes, it’s all you need.

  As we talk more about the upcoming trial, Easton starts to get more distant. His demeanor changes and he even physically pulls away from me.

  “I’m here for you,” I say. “No matter what.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m worried about.”

  �
�I don’t understand,” I say, shaking my head.

  “There may come a time, when you shouldn’t be here for me anymore. They are framing me for this crime, and they’re going to get away with it. I’m certain of it.”

  “Don’t say that,” I whisper.

  Tears start to well up.

  “I’m telling you this, because they’re going to make you choose, Everly. They’re going to make you choose between right and wrong. Between me and York. They will test your allegiance.”

  “My allegiance is with you.”

  He shakes his head. “No, it can’t be. Not if you want to stay safe.”

  “I don’t care about that,” I say. “All I want to do is be with you.”

  Easton pulls away from me and squares himself. His shoulders are across from mine and he looks deep into my eyes.

  “You have to listen to me, Everly. I love you. Nothing is going to change that. I want you to be my wife. But if this trial goes forward, which I know it will, they will find me guilty. And then they will ask you to choose. Will you stand with a guilty man accused of betraying his home and the King, or will you stand with York?”

  My whole body begins to shake.

  It starts with my shoulders and spreads throughout my body.

  The quivers quickly turn into an earthquake and suddenly I’m completely unable to control any part of me.

  Tears stream down my face and my hands tremble as I reach for his face.

  Easton shakes me to snap me out of the trance, but it’s to no avail.

  “You cannot stand by my side, Everly. You have to denounce me and our relationship. You have to pledge your allegiance to York. You have to say that I’m guilty. Whatever you do, you cannot fight them on this.”

  I continue to shake and cry and he wraps his arms around me and buries my head in his shoulders.

  “I know it will be hard. But you have to survive, Everly. No matter, what you do. You have to survive.”

  “Why?” I mumble through my sobs. “What’s the fucking point?”

  “Because as long as I’m alive, I will do everything in my power to come back for you. No matter how long it takes, Everly. No matter what they do to me. I will never forget you and I will be there for you.”

  The words echo in my mind, but I don’t really process them.