Dirty Obsession

by Ella Miles

  People start moving into positions, and I follow Wes to the side of the church. Wes says something to me and his other two groomsmen standing behind me. I nod automatically and then follow Wes when he walks out into position. I stand next to him with the other groomsmen standing behind me. We all know where to stand, despite none of us listening.

  Music starts up, and the bridesmaids begin walking toward us. It seems to take forever to get them down the aisle even though there are only three of them. Then, they stand opposite us. All beautiful, of course, but none beautiful enough to make me give up my plan to steal Sloane. She is my only focus.

  The music changes, and Sloane finally starts walking down the aisle. She’s beautiful, of course, as she walks down the aisle by herself. Her blonde hair seems to blow, as if a fan were directed on her the whole time she walks. Her skin seems to glow. Her eyes though are what interest me the most. Everyone else who sees her walking down the aisle assumes she is looking at Wes, holding his gaze.

  She isn’t though. Her gaze is on me.

  Sloane looks at me the whole time she walks down the aisle, and her eyes tell me everything. That she wants me to rescue her. To save her from this. I grin because that is exactly what I’m going to do.

  Sloane makes it down the aisle and goes through the motions of the ceremony as the minister explains everything that is going to happen. And then he calls for everyone to do everything again. Everyone sighs and moans quietly to themselves. With large fake smiles on our faces, we all go through the motions again while being completely bored out of our minds.

  The only positive thing I get out of it is being able to study Sloane as she walks. Every curve of her gorgeous tan skin. Every curl of her blonde hair. The green color of her eyes. The confidence in which she walks or does anything.

  The minister finally dismisses us, saying that we can all head into the dining hall where we can enjoy a dinner on the bride and groom. I head into the dining hall with the other groomsmen. I take a seat at the same table as they do even though I know they all want to punch me in the face. I’ve learned though not to take it personally. It is just the reaction I provoke in people.

  Waiters start bringing out the first course of soup and salad. But the happy couple still hasn’t made their appearance. I pick at the salad. I’ve never been one for eating anything remotely healthy.

  The waiters take the first course away and start serving the main course of chicken and vegetables. I scan the room but still don’t see where the bride- and groom-to-be are. A few other people have noticed, too. I can see the worry and anxiety on some of their faces.

  I get up from the table and hear a woman say to her husband, “It’s strange that the bride and groom haven’t made it to the rehearsal dinner yet.”

  The husband laughs. “They are probably just doing it in a back room somewhere.”

  I feel a tightness in my chest as I think about that possibility. It’s never bothered me before when the women I was trying to steal slept with their fiancés. But knowing that is what Sloane could be doing drives me crazy. I don’t want Wes touching her or kissing her or fucking her. I don’t want him anywhere near her. She’s mine.

  I start walking back to the chapel where the rehearsals took place, as it was the last place that I saw either of them. The second I enter the chapel, I hear their voices ringing throughout the room. I’m surprised that we couldn’t hear them arguing from the dining room just down the hallway from here.

  “No, we aren’t postponing until the weather cooperates so that we can get married outside!” Wes shouts.

  “But it’s important to me!” Sloane shouts back.

  “Isn’t being married more important than where we get married?” Wes shouts.

  “Of course, but this is the one thing I care about. The beach reminds me of my grandmother, which is why I want to get married there instead of in this church.”

  I slowly walk up, trying not to be noticed, but they both seem so entranced in their arguing that I don’t think they would notice me, no matter how loud I was being. They start walking, and I keep following. Sloane starts running out of the church, visibly upset and shaking with anger.

  “I’m so tired of hearing about your grandmother. We postponed the wedding in the first place because of your grandmother’s death. I don’t think we have to do everything because of your goddamn grandmother.”

  Tears well in Sloane’s eyes, and I can’t stand it any longer.

  I start to move forward when Sloane says, “I can’t breathe.”

  “Sure you can. You just don’t want to admit that you’re wrong, and I’m right.”

  But Sloane truly can’t breathe. Her face is turning bright red, and she falls back to the ground. I run forward at the same time that Wes does. Her face has started to swell.

  “Sloane, what’s wrong?” I ask.

  But she can’t answer me. I can tell she is running out of oxygen fast. I pinch her nose and lower my mouth to hers, breathing a breath into her, but the air barely seems to make a difference.

  I feel something sharp hit my neck, followed by a buzzing sound. Bees. She must be allergic. I grab her purse that is lying next to her.

  “Call 911, Wes,” I say as I dig through it and find the EpiPen that is inside.

  I quickly read through the instructions, but I know I’m running out of time. So, I remove the cap and then jab it into her thigh, like the instructions say.

  “Come on, Sloane, breathe. You’re going to be fine. Just relax, and try to breathe.”

  She slowly takes a breath and starts to sit up. My heart slows when I see that she is going to make it.

  “Thank you,” she whispers.

  I nod, but saving her did nothing to stop my own anger. If anything, it just made me angrier. I help Sloane to her feet and then over to a bench outside the church where she can wait for the ambulance to come and check her over. And then I turn toward Wes, who is standing next to the bench, and I punch him square in the face. He completely falls back, startled by my punch.

  “You don’t deserve a woman like Sloane,” I say, staring at Wes now lying on the floor, still in complete shock.

  I turn to face Sloane as the ambulance pulls up. “Don’t marry him. Not because I want you and am desperate to claim you, to fuck you, but because you deserve better than an asshole dick of a man who doesn’t understand how important your grandmother is to you. You don’t have to choose me, but don’t choose him either. You deserve love, not years of unhappiness.”

  I grab the six-pack of beer and take it out to the beach. I considered just going home after I punched Wes. I left the rehearsal before Wes came to his senses and decided to start a fight. But I stuck around in the parking lot long enough to see that Sloane didn’t even have to go to the hospital. They checked her over and determined that the EpiPen was enough. That she was going to be okay. She went back into the rehearsal, and I left. I couldn’t bear to stay and watch her prepare to marry him.

  My surfboard is in the back of my truck. I consider bringing it down to the beach with me, but I don’t really feel like surfing. Instead, I plop down on the sand with my beer.

  I’ll drink for a while, maybe take a dip in the ocean, and then sleep off the alcohol in the back of my truck or here on the beach. I open the first beer, trying to do anything but think about Wes and Sloane. I’ve never punched anyone before. I know that punching someone accomplishes nothing but making the puncher feel a bit better—at least, for a moment. But, now that I have, I want to go back and beat the shit out of Wes for treating Sloane so poorly.

  And Sloane…I have no idea what she is going to do. Marry him most likely. I don’t see her canceling the wedding the night before. She’s different than all the other women I’ve seduced. She is stronger and no-nonsense, all business. I’m not even sure that she is marrying Wes because she loves him. There has to be another reason that I am overlooking. Something that makes her feel like she has to go through with it—not because she loves him, bu
t because that is what is best for her future.

  Maybe her company’s future? I have no idea.

  But Sloane was right about one thing. I was going to lose this game. I was never going to claim her. Even if she decides not to marry Wes, she will never be mine. She is too intelligent, too independent, too rational to let her heart go to a man like me.

  I sip on my beer, trying to forget about all of it. I stare out at the ocean. I should take a trip somewhere. Get away from my normal life for a week or two. I’ve always wanted to travel overseas. But it would have to be somewhere without a beach because, after our time together on the beach, in the ocean, I can’t be out here without thinking of her.

  It was a mistake, coming here now. I should have just gone back to my shack. Maybe then I can forget about her. I glance down at the six-pack on my left. Maybe, after drinking all of them, I will forget about her.

  “Can I join you?” a soft voice says behind me.

  I freeze, not sure if she is really here or if I am imagining her.

  She doesn’t wait for me to answer. Sloane just sits down in the sand next to me, not caring that her white dress is going to be covered in sand. She takes a beer and opens the cap with the bottom of her shoe. She didn’t bother asking if she could have one. She isn’t that kind of girl. She doesn’t ask permission for anything; she just does.

  “Thank you,” she says after a long pause.

  I stare at her with wide eyes. I’m not sure if anyone has ever thanked me before, for anything. And I never expected to get multiple thank-yous from her, of all people.

  “You really need to stop thanking me. For however bad Wes treats you, I’m worse.”

  She sips her beer. I watch her mouth close around it, and I can’t help but imagine her lips wrapped around my cock. Although I don’t see that happening—ever.

  “I’m not getting married tomorrow,” she says.

  I nod. “I guessed that. I’m not sorry. I don’t think he’s good enough for you.”

  She finishes her beer. “I’m not sorry either. Not really.”

  She takes another beer out, which makes me smile at her.

  I finish my own beer and start on a second. “So, what now?”

  “First, I’m going to finish the rest of these beers with you.”

  I grin. “Of course. And then?”

  “And then you are going to fuck me and make me forget about Wes.”

  I spew the beer out of my mouth. She looks at me straight-faced though, and I know she is dead serious.

  “You surprise the hell out of me, Sloane.”

  She drinks down half of her second beer. “You don’t surprise me at all.”

  “I’m not sure if that was meant as a compliment or a dis, but I’ll take it if it means I get to fuck you.”

  “I don’t like surprises.”

  “I love surprises if they come from you.”

  Her lips crash with mine, surprising the hell out of me again. Her kiss is hungry, like she is desperate for more and more and more. And I’m more than happy to give her everything she wants and more.

  I kiss her back, equally as hungry. My tongue slides into her mouth, and to my surprise, she lets me. Each step I take with her is going to surprise me because I thought she hated me. She has every reason to. I broke up her wedding. I ruined her life.

  But she is kissing me like I’m the only man she has ever wanted. My hand tangles in her hair, pulling her closer to me, and at the same time, she pushes herself on top of me. We fall back and break our kiss.

  Sloane lies on top of me, breathing heavily from our quick make-out session. We stare at each other for a moment, deciding if we want this to go any further.

  “We can stop. No one has to know that you kissed me. You could still go back to Wes. But, if you do this, he will never take you back,” I warn.

  I’ve seen it before, and as much as I thought I wanted to destroy her, I was wrong. I don’t want to hurt her. I care too much about her, which is strange, especially since I have never slept with her.

  “Don’t ever stop. I need this. I don’t want Wes. I want you even if only for one night.”

  I pull her bottom lip into my mouth, bringing her lips back to mine. Her hands go back around my neck, and my hands rub against her bare back, running over her smooth skin, as we kiss. Each kiss, our tongues dive deeper into each other’s mouth, showing how desperate we are for each other.

  Without thinking, I begin to undo the zipper that starts around her waist. I slowly unzip it until my hand can slip beneath the lace fabric. My hand slides over her ass, and I find the same lace material covering it.

  Sloane starts tugging at my shirt, running her hand over my abs and up my chest. I love the feel of her soft hands so firm against me, demanding what she wants. I’ve never had a woman so clearly tell me what she wants without even saying a word.

  She wants me to take her here, on the beach.

  The wind picks up, and salt water and sand brush over us. And I’m reminded why I never fuck women on the beach.

  “My car is”—I kiss her soft, luscious lips—“just”—she kisses me, stopping me from speaking—“over—”

  Sloane shuts me up again with her kisses. I don’t give a fuck that rough seashells are poking into my ass as she rides me. I don’t care that we are going to get salt water in our eyes as I fuck her. I won’t be able to close my eyes for a second because I would hate to miss even a moment with her. I don’t give a shit that I’m going to find sand for days to come in places that I don’t even want to think about.

  I’m going to fuck her here, on the beach, where anyone could see us, because I can’t help but give her everything she wants and give myself exactly what I want as well. Because I’ve never wanted anything more than this completely unpredictable, self-sufficient, beautiful woman.

  “I want to strip you naked, but I couldn’t stand it if anyone else got to see you naked on the beach,” I say.

  She lifts up the hem of her dress and jerks it over her head, revealing her black lace bra and underwear that she somehow hid under the white material of her dress, like the devil she hides underneath her angel facade. My eyes widen from the shock of what she just did and how perfect her body is. How her breasts overflow from her bra, begging me to touch them.

  “No one comes to this beach. And it doesn’t matter if anyone does. I’m not going to last long enough for them to get much of a show anyway.”

  She kisses me again, and I forget that we are on a public beach and that anyone could see her. I no longer fucking care.

  “Plus, I’m not ashamed of my body. I know I look hot, naked or not.”

  I bite her bottom lip again. “I couldn’t agree more.”

  She grabs my dick from beneath my shorts and underwear, and I cry out like a fucking girl. I didn’t even realize she had found a way through the fabric of my shorts. Her kisses and body are so fucking fantastic that I can’t even realize anything else that is going on in the world. I blame it on the fact that all my blood is now pooled in my dick instead of my brain.

  Still, I can’t have her completely exposed if someone decides to come looking. So, I roll us over in the sand until she’s on the bottom, and I’m on top.

  “Can’t handle a woman in control?” she asks, her eyes full of lust and her lips plump from all the kissing.

  I chuckle. “Oh, I would love to see you take control and ride me. I don’t think there is anything I want more. But there is no way I’m letting anyone have a chance at seeing you naked. I want to be the only one. I’m too controlling about things that are mine.”

  “I don’t like to be claimed. I’m not anyone’s.”

  I roughly kiss her until she is purring a little bit in her throat. And, when I stop, she has a blank look on her face, which makes my grin wider.

  “Well, I’m very much up to the challenge of making you mine.”

  I kiss her again as she pushes down my shorts when I realize…

  “Shit.”
<
br />   “What?” She curiously looks at me and then around the beach, assuming I spotted someone looking at us.

  As I look at her, I scowl at my unpreparedness. “I don’t have a condom.”

  She grins and then lets out a small chuckle before reaching into her bra and pulling out a gold little square that contains a condom.

  “Thank God,” I say, grabbing it from her and ripping it open.

  I don’t waste time in thinking about why she had a condom in her bra, if she was planning on using it with Wes. I roll it on my dick before sliding my fingers under her panties. I feel the moisture, that I caused, immediately cover my fingers as I find her entrance and slip them between her folds. She moans, and it is a beautiful sound that I never thought I would hear.

  I spread the liquid up over her clit, and she bites my lip to keep from screaming. As it is, her screams are loud enough that I’m sure everyone within a square mile can hear her.

  “Fuck me, Asher. Make me belong to you.”

  I slip inside her, and it’s heaven.

  “I’m never leaving again,” I groan as I move inside her.

  “Fuck, I don’t want you to stop—ever.”

  I fuck her against the sand as the waves crash against us. I thought I was in love with the ocean and beach before, but now, I know I will never get enough of it. Not after I’ve had her here.

  I thrust and move and build us both until neither of us can hold out any longer, no matter how desperate we are to make this moment last forever.

  “Jesus Christ, Asher!” Sloane cries as she comes.

  And I come right along with her.

  I collapse on top of Sloane, feeling every inch of our bodies pressed together. “You’re mine now,” I say. I don’t add forever. Despite how much I want this to be forever.

  Jesus Christ! What the hell is wrong with me? I can’t want her forever.

  We both hear the sirens in the distance at the same time. I jump off of her and grab her hand, pulling her up and holding her close to me, like I’m going to be able to protect her against the police.