Only Him (An Obsessed Novella Book 2)

by Jeanne St. James

  “Get the condoms,” she orders me, like she’s reading my mind. I can’t say no to her command, so I climb out of the tub, quickly find them and hurry back to the bathroom, and I almost blow my load right there.

  Her back is pressed to the shower wall, her feet propped on the edge of the tub and one hand is busy between her thighs, the other squeezing a breast. Holy fuck, I want to remember this sight forever. I lean against the door jamb and take a mental picture of this moment. Her eyes closed, her lips parted, and the sounds that escape her as she brings herself quickly to orgasm, drives me just about out of my mind. Damn, I’m jealous of her hand right now.

  “Don’t move,” I tell her when she opens her eyes and smiles at me. “Stay just like that.”

  I rip open a condom with my teeth, sheath myself, and step into the tub between her spread thighs. I take some of her weight into my hands by cupping her sweet ass and she guides me inside her.

  Oh, holy hell. Holy motherfucking hell. Her hot pussy encases me completely. When she ripples around my cock, I fucking grit my teeth to keep from coming right away. Every time I pump into her, my ass clenches around the plug and it feels like a sex train, where I’m fucking her and someone is fucking me. And it’s absolutely glorious.

  My cock can’t get any harder, or my balls any tighter. As her thighs squeeze me, her hands loop around my neck, her fingernails dig into my back. When she sinks her teeth into my throat, I slam her even harder, faster, making her cry out against my skin. She bites me harder and I grunt, stilling within her.

  When I’m finally able to slow my out-of-control spinning, I make the tiniest of movements within her. I need her to come before I do. And she needs to do it soon, so I furiously work her magic spot and she clenches around me, squeezing. Her teeth scrape along my shoulder and finds purchase in the muscle above my collarbone. I jerk as pain shoots through me, but my cock hardens even more. I’m so close. I want to spill inside her so badly, but she needs to come first.

  She needs to come first.

  When she releases my skin, she cries out, “I’m coming!” And… fuck, she climaxes around me, her body squeezing me like a fist. I want to collapse to my knees, but I can’t, I’m holding her up against the wall and I’m about to blow my load. I release a curse and my cum explodes from me with a force that I swear makes me see spots. I empty myself inside her with a shudder. In an attempt to catch my breath, my chest heaves as I gulp air. This definitely wasn’t a marathon session, but I was already exhausted and my body can’t take much more of this long night.

  Sydney’s eyes remain closed, her head leans back against the shower wall, and her lungs pump oxygen as fast as mine. I doubt she can last much longer, either.

  I don’t want to pull out because I want to stay a part of her as long as I can. I have a feeling we’re going to end up in a crumpled heap once I do.

  “That was fucking amazing,” she says without opening her eyes. “Crazy, but amazing.”

  I second that, but haven’t recovered enough to be able to stitch two words together yet. I simply nod and press my forehead against hers, closing my eyes for a moment.

  When she drops her feet down to the bottom of the tub, she dislodges me and I’m overcome with disappointment at the sense of loss. After I toss the condom into a nearby wastebasket, she twists and pulls at the shower faucet, and when the cool water hits us we both shout in shock and then laugh as it warms up and soothes our tired muscles.

  She grabs the poof hanging off the shower head and I take it from her. “Let me.” After squishing some shower gel into it, I lather her body gently, as if it’s made of delicate crystal. I take my time washing away the stickiness and the mess from her luscious body. Which, again I admit to myself, I can’t get enough of. Though, my cock isn’t having any of it, and hangs flaccid as if on strike.

  After she’s clean, I shampoo her long dark hair and she groans in pleasure. While conditioner soaks into her tresses, we switch spots and she takes the poof from me and soaps me down, making sure to get into every crack and crevice.

  Damn, showering together seems so intimate that my chest squeezes. If you don’t count high school, I haven’t even known the woman twenty-four hours yet, but I’m addicted already.

  The tables might be turning… she was obsessed with me during our teens, I may be obsessed now that we’re adults.

  I can only hope she’ll want more than this one night.

  When the shower spray rinses off the last of the suds, I realize it’s time to get down to business. It’s time to pull the plug. (Literally.)

  I wonder if I should ask her to step out and do it in private because I don’t want to embarrass myself. But I also think it may be cool if she’s willing to help. She’s the one who shoved it up my ass in the first place, anyhow.

  “Do you… uh…”

  “Yes,” she answers, anticipating my uncomfortable request.

  “Okay, well…”

  “Turn around,” she demands and I smirk before I do what I’m told. “Brace your hands on the wall.”

  I spread my legs and plant my palms like she says and it feels like I’m about to be patted down before being arrested.

  Hmm. Role-playing. We may have to try that one night in the future. I shake the thought out of my head and concentrate on the task at hand.

  “Squat down and relax your… muscles,” she tells me and I look over my shoulder at her. Really? She acts like she’s a pro at this and I know she’s not. But, hey, I don’t have a better idea, so I bend my knees and sink down a little bit. I feel a tug and a wiggle and a pull, and I’m not sure if I actually like the feeling or if I should be mortified that I’m in this position with a woman who, by all intents and purposes, I really “just met.”

  Someone who I’ll have to wave to daily when I check my mail. As I laugh at my stupid thought the plug pops out, although certainly not as easy as going in. And, damn, it hadn’t been easy going in either.

  But I can’t say I didn’t like the experience, so it’s staying in my goodie box for future use.

  If I’m lucky and Sydney is willing, I’ll be adding to my collection as well.

  And, hopefully, I end up being one lucky son-of-a-bitch.

  9

  Sydney

  Reid Fucking Turner actually toweled me off and dried my hair. Dried my hair! (With a hairdryer and everything.) The man I wanted my whole life (well, almost) is eating out of my palm. How the hell did this happen?

  Not that I’m complaining. But I still keep thinking I’m going to wake up from a dream and find out he didn’t really move next door, and I imagined having him tied to my bed earlier.

  Boy, would that fucking suck.

  The best part is he isn’t an asshole either. He’s freaking hot, sexy, great in bed, and he’s… nice! So yeah, any moment I’m going to wake up and be disappointed that I’m alone in my bed and the only thing I got fucked with was my trusty vibrator.

  Watch it turn out my new neighbor isn’t Reid, it’s some fat, hairy Italian guy who smells like pepperoni and garlic.

  That would be more my luck.

  But if it’s a dream, it’s an awesome one, I think to myself as I watch Reid gather the sex toys that are scattered all over my bedroom floor. As he tosses them in his “old photos” box (isn’t he clever) I can see the ripple of his muscles under his skin. Ooo, baby.

  If I wasn’t so tired, I’d jump his bones. Again. But as it is, I think I’m going to need a wheelchair to get around tomorrow. I glance at the clock next to the bed. Or later today.

  Sadness creeps over me as I realize dawn will arrive soon and Reid will have to put his clothes on. When he’s done hunting and gathering his sex toys, he stands by the bed with his box of goodies. My heart skips a beat because I think he’s about to leave.

  “You going?” I ask him, keeping my expression blank.

  Unmistakable disappointment crosses his face. “I… uh… Do you want me to?”

  “Fuck no!” I want to scream.
But I don’t, I grip the sheets in my fingers and fight that urge. “Not really. You might as well stay the rest of the ni—morning.”

  He sets the box down by my bedroom door and I can’t resist staring at his muscular ass as he does so. He turns to face me and I smile innocently.

  “Well, I can take you to breakfast in the morning… if you want.”

  Really? Is Reid Fucking Turner asking me on a breakfast date? I run my fingers through my hair. “I probably look like shit.”

  He puts a knee on the bed, snags my hand, and kisses the knuckles. “You look beautiful.”

  “And freshly fucked?” A smile twitches at my lips.

  “Definitely well fucked.”

  “I don’t want this to go to your head or anything, but… tonight has got to be the best night I’ve ever had. The sex with you was everything I ever expected.”

  He drops my hand and climbs onto the bed, walking on his hands and knees until he’s directly over me, staring right into my face. I blink when he asks, “You thought about having sex with me a lot?”

  Look, we’re both naked. We’ve both seen each other in various positions (naked). The man’s been inside of me (naked). So really there’s no reason to hide the (naked) truth. “Reid, you’ve been my masturbation material since the ninth grade.”

  He cocks a brow. “That long, huh?”

  “Oh yeah. That long.”

  “And is the real thing better than the fantasy?”

  Damn. The fantasies were pretty good, though. “The real thing is better than my own fingers.”

  “Or a vibrator?”

  All right, now he’s gone too far. “Well…”

  “Damn, that hurts.” He smacks his lips against mine then falls to my side, gathering me into his arms and pulling me tight to his side.

  “Well, I did name my favorite vibrator Reid.”

  He turns his head to face me. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Is that the one you were using when I saw you through the window and you called out my name?”

  “Maybe.”

  His low chuckle makes his chest rumble and I can’t help but smile at the sound. Why the hell did his wife fuck around on him? I don’t get it.

  It’s only ever been him for me. Now that I have him, I’m not letting him go. No way. I think of all the wasted years we spent apart. All those years he was with Pam to have her only screw him over in the end.

  I, Sydney Ryan, solemnly swear to never screw Reid Fucking Turner over.

  I reach over and pinch him.

  “Ow!” He jerks his arm away and rubs it. “What was that for?”

  “I just want to make sure I’m not dreaming,” I tell him, turning my head away so he can’t see my smirk.

  “If you’re going to pinch me, at least pinch me somewhere good.” Now I jerk when he pinches me back. “See? You’re not dreaming.”

  I roll onto my side and study his face. He studies mine. “I’m glad. Now about that breakfast…”

  Before I can finish, his eyes slowly slide shut from exhaustion. I end up watching him sleep until the dawn’s sun peeks through the drawn curtains. And I have to say…

  Reid Fucking Turner is one man I won’t avoid a morning meal with.

  If You Enjoyed This Book

  Thank you for reading Only Him (An Obsessed Novella). If you enjoyed Reid and Sydney’s story, please consider leaving a review on Amazon here and/or Goodreads here to let other readers know. Reviews are always appreciated and just a few words can help an independent author like me tremendously!

  About the Author

  JEANNE ST. JAMES is an erotic romance author who loves an Alpha male (or two). She was only thirteen when she started writing since it gave her an escape from teenage angst! Her first paid published piece was an erotic story in Playgirl magazine. Her first erotic romance novel, Banged Up, was published in 2009. She is happily owned by farting French bulldogs. She writes M/F, M/M, and M/M/F ménages.

  For information on all her new releases keep an eye on her website at www.jeannestjames.com or sign up for her newsletter: http://www.jeannestjames.com/newslettersignup

  Author Links:

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  Also by Jeanne St. James

  Made Maleen: A Modern Twist on a Fairy Tale

  Damaged (Coming Soon)

  Brothers in Blue Series:

  (Can be read as standalones)

  Brothers in Blue: Max

  Brothers in Blue: Marc

  Brothers in Blue: Matt

  Teddy: A Brothers in Blue Novella (Coming Soon)

  The Dare Ménage Series:

  (Can be read as standalones)

  Double Dare

  Daring Proposal

  Dare to Be Three

  A Daring Desire (Coming Soon)

  The Obsessed Novellas:

  (All the novellas in this series are standalones)

  Forever Him

  Only Him

  The Rip Cord Trilogy:

  Rip Cord: The Reunion

  Rip Cord: The Weekend

  Rip Cord: The Ever After

  You can find information on all of Jeanne’s books here:

  http://www.jeannestjames.com/

  If you haven’t read the first book in the Obsessed Novella Series, turn the page to read the first chapter.

  About Forever Him

  This is not just a love story, it’s an obsession…

  I can’t keep my eyes off the tall, dark, and confident man who stops in the coffee shop every morning. I want this stranger more than I’ve ever wanted anyone before, even though I only know his first name. As an author, my imagination is my ultimate writing tool, men like Kane my muse. And the minute he leaves, I’m overcome with fantasies I can’t control and my fingers fly across the keyboard … until one day, I almost snap. My embarrassing outburst has me running out the door when he catches me and takes me to his home.

  Though it’s risky, I can’t resist him. And with one kiss, he now owns me. This man will capture my sanity and trap it forever. He’ll steal me one piece at a time until he possesses me completely. He’ll ruin me for any other man. But I don’t want anyone else, for it’ll always be forever him.

  Note: All books in the Obsessed series are stand-alone novellas. It is intended for audiences over 18 years of age since it includes explicit sexual situations, including BDSM.

  Chapter 1 - Forever Him

  His name is Kane.

  I will love him forever. He just doesn’t know it yet…

  The only reason I know his name is because every morning when he stops at the coffee shop for his large black coffee, the barista calls out, “Kane with a K.”

  Every. Single. Morning.

  I assume the barista does it on purpose. Possibly to coax a smile out of him. But it never does. His expression never changes. It seems forever stuck in serious mode. He just grabs his coffee, throws money into the tip jar, spins on his heels, and leaves.

  Maybe he’s an important man. A busy man. A man with a lot of responsibilities on his broad shoulders. Maybe his mind is on what he needs to get done for the day.

  But he never deviates from his routine. Black coffee. No cream. No sugar. No pastries.

  Not once since I’ve noticed him.

  I rarely p
ay attention to people coming and going from the shop since the mornings are usually busy. I sit in my corner with my laptop open, my brain spinning with ideas. Or not.

  Sometimes I have severe writer’s block. Those are the times my brain seems dark and empty. Nobody’s home. I had it the first morning I noticed him. During those times, I stare off blindly while reaching deep into my head. Searching for… something. Anything. Begging for just a couple words to spur my creativity.

  The front door with its delicate dinging bell usually never pulls my attention. Until that day. The day I happened to be staring at the door mindlessly, not paying attention to the influx of customers.

  Until him.

  He’s tall. And broad. Not fat, no. Heavy muscles bunch under the dress shirt he wears as he pushes the door open and steps inside. His dark hair is super short on the sides, just a tiny bit longer on the top. A no-nonsense haircut. Like him… No nonsense.

  His perfectly ironed, deep purple dress shirt is tucked neatly into his black slacks. His black leather belt is held together by a simple gold-tone buckle.

  His eyebrows appear dark and heavy above eyes that make me blink. They are so light but I can't tell if they are gray or blue. No matter what, they’re a shocking contrast to his skin color.

  The only visible accessory he wears is a watch on his wrist. Even from where I sit, I can see it’s quality. One I could never afford, and I probably wouldn’t know the brand. But it screams expensive.

  His legs are long and unmistakably solid, giving him a confident stride as he beelines to the counter.

  Why does he stop here for black coffee? I’m sure he can afford a coffee maker. It isn’t difficult to make. Some grounds, a filter, and some water. Push the button, wait, and voilà…