Obsessed

by R. J. Lewis

  I won.

  *

  I sat in the dark on Aston’s bed, waiting for him to come up. My arms were crossed, and I was leaning back against the headboard, listening to him laugh downstairs with Mom and Dad. For a short moment, I smiled along at the sound, thinking how lucky we were to have him.

  Then I remembered he had just tried sabotaging my date tomorrow – might have even succeeded – and my smile was replaced with a scowl. I had done nothing wrong! How could he? I was doing the right thing trying to find another guy to obsess over.

  When I heard his footsteps approach the door, my adrenaline spiked. I was ready to tear his asshole a new one. The light flooded in as he opened the door and came in, and when I saw that soft smile planted on his lips and his blond hair ruffled in a million different directions, I froze. I swallowed the venom on my tongue, already softened by the sight of him. How unfair was it that he could control me even when he didn’t know it?

  When he looked up and saw me, there wasn’t surprise on his face. In fact, his smile only broadened. He already knew I was in here. He shut the door behind him, and we were swallowed in darkness. I could feel his eyes on me, though I couldn’t see them.

  “You think you’re so sneaky, don’t you?” he whispered to me, his voice low.

  My heart skipped a beat. “How did you know I’m in here?”

  “My door creaks when it closes. I heard it creak after you went up.”

  “And still you kept me waiting.”

  “I like when you’re fired up.”

  I fumed, crossing my arms even tighter. “You want me angry?”

  He sat down on the edge of the bed, his large silhouette turned to me. “For thinking you could go out with the likes of Patrick? Yeah, I want you angry. I want you as angry as I feel.”

  “You don’t have any right to be angry. That was wrong what you did. He’s not a bad guy.”

  “But he’s not for you.”

  “How would you know?”

  “Because he’s not me.”

  My whole being tensed. I swallowed hard, a wave of emotions flooding through me. My heart felt clamped. I liked to visualize it in a spiky bear trap because it was the only thing that came close to explaining how it felt. Far from a pathetic pinch in the chest that only Patrick could ever achieve.

  “Isn’t that right, El?”

  “Don’t you dare say things like that,” I angrily said, my voice quiet and fierce. “Don’t you dare dangle yourself in front of me just out of reach and laugh at my feelings.”

  “I’m not laughing,” he replied, solemnly.

  “You should have just left it alone. It won’t change anything, you know. I’m still going out with him tomorrow.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “Like fuck I’m not!”

  “Shh.”

  He wanted me to be quiet? No! He couldn’t push me this far and then expect me to remain a silent little mouse as he butchered my heart like it was nothing. I was panting, anger swirling through my depths, itching to come out. I wanted to provoke him, drive a reaction out of him, make him hurt just like I hurt!

  “I’m going,” I went on, pushing my back off the headboard, leaning forward so he could make out my face. “I’m going because he’ll pass Daddy’s stupid little test, and then when we’re out, I’m going to kiss him and fuck him and do all the things the girls at school have done because I’m one of them too and I’m tired of wasting my time waiting on a guy like you!”

  I waited for him to lash out – hungered for it even – but he didn’t move. As the seconds passed and my anger tapered off, I slowly realized what I said, and embarrassment followed. Fuck, I should have stayed quiet. I made a promise to myself to treat him well, but I couldn’t hold myself back. I didn’t understand what came over me time and time again. Aston was designed to make me tick, and then drive me insane with remorse.

  Panicked, I licked my lips and whispered contritely, “Aston –”

  “Shut up,” he interrupted harshly.

  I did. I searched for words to apologize when I felt a hand wrap around my ankle. With a gasp, I was yanked down the mattress. In under a second, he was over me, trapping my body beneath him. I felt his large hands on my legs, felt him spreading them wide apart. He settled himself between them, and dipped his head to me, nose touching nose.

  “You want me like this?” he asked, an edge in his voice.

  Like what? I wanted to ask. Until he gently rocked against that part between my legs that sent jolts of untapped pleasure throughout my body. I gasped in shock-+++

  .

  “Yes,” I answered thoughtlessly, my voice tinged with desire.

  He kissed my mouth and slid his tongue along the crease of my trembling lips. “And like this?”

  I sucked in a mouthful of air. “Yes.”

  Settling his forearms on either side of my head, he kissed me again, deeper this time, and pressed between my legs once more. I shook under him, flushed and panting. Fearing he might disappear any second, my hands balled into his shirt. He didn’t move away. He pressed his lips to mine, tasting them, exploring them. I was breathless and hot, kissing him back without restraint. It felt so good. His mouth was heaven, and I was floating.

  “Like this?” he continued to ask.

  “Yes,” I continued to pant. “Oh, God, yes.”

  He continued rocking into me, fully clothed, that barrier slowly driving me mad. I wanted us flesh on flesh, wanted his hands to roam my body. Instead, he stayed that way, hips between my legs, mouth on mouth. He moved slowly, grinding into me with the perfect rhythm, triggering that special spot each time.

  He licked my lips. “You think about doing this with me, Elise?”

  “Yes,” I quivered.

  “How long have you been thinking it?”

  “Forever.”

  He let out a breath as I felt him harden between my legs. “Good.”

  He rocked into me over and over again, until my mind fled into the darkness. I wasn’t anyone in that moment. I was a vessel of feeling, focusing solely on his powerful movements. I took what he gave me, until the jolts of pleasure stretched longer, grew fiercer. I cried out his name in his mouth as it exploded inside of me, a current so strong, I shook beneath him, gripping his shirt so tight it hurt.

  He stopped moving after that. He listened to my quiet moans, his body rigid. My hands loosened and he was quick to pull away. He sat down on the edge of the bed where he’d been before and neither of us spoke. I watched him run his hand through his hair and sigh. I wanted to know what he was thinking, but I didn’t want to risk hearing his guilt.

  I was still catching my breath. My limbs were loose, my body…tender. He had selflessly grinded me into orgasm. It was incredible. More than incredible, it was everything and more.

  “What are you thinking?” I finally whispered in the tiniest voice.

  He turned his head to me. “Giving you that means you’re not going on your date, right?”

  My jaw dropped. “You…did that so I wouldn’t see Patrick?”

  “I did that because I wanted to, but I want to hear it from your mouth you’re not picking him over me. So say it.”

  I felt unnerved by the demand in his voice. Another layer of Aston had just been peeled for me to see.

  “I’m not picking him over you,” I told him.

  “And?”

  “And…I’m not going on that date.”

  “Good. Don’t make me jealous again.”

  “I wasn’t trying to.”

  “No? You think I didn’t see you pressing up against him the second I went inside that store? Every fucking time I was around, you did it, waiting for me to react. I didn’t think you were like that, El.”

  I pursed my lips. Yeah, he was right. Whatever. Call me desperate, but when you’re living with a wall you’re in love with, sometimes you just want to watch it crack.

  Before I could say anything else, a knock sounded out.

  “Aston, honey
,” I heard Mom call.

  My heart jumped to my throat. Did she hear us? Would she see me? A bolt of excuses tore through me, but Aston got up swiftly, grabbed the covers and threw them over me. I didn’t move, didn’t breathe, didn’t see anything. My heart went off like a jackhammer as I panicked under two inch layers of fabric. What if she caught me hiding? Then it would be obvious, and hell would break loose. Or would it?

  With bated breath, I heard him go to the door and open it. “Yeah,” he said.

  “Your father’s waiting in the shed, says he wanted to show you that mine storm thing.”

  “Mindstorm,” he corrected her.

  “I don’t know what it is. Some nerdy thing he says he’s finally finished building.”

  “It’s a robot.”

  “Sure, just go to him. He’s excited to try it out.”

  “Alright, let me just throw my shoes on.”

  He shut the door again and tugged the covers off of me. I sat up, red faced and nervous. He didn’t look at me once as he grabbed his shoes and put them on. When he got up, he said quietly, “Wait five minutes. I’ll make sure she’s downstairs by then.”

  Then he turned away and walked out.

  Just like that.

  No other words, glances…nothing. Like, shit, really?!

  I was alone and still shaking. I waited the torturous five minutes in his bedroom, and then I slipped out and disappeared in mine. I collapsed in my bed, feeling very strange, almost foreign in my own skin. In the silence, I questioned what just happened, and why I felt guilty about it.

  Was it wrong what he did? Kissing me? Rubbing me? Making me feel that good? I’d always wanted it, always dreamed of it, so why did I feel like this?

  Deep inside, I knew what was going on. We had just crossed a line. We’d done something that would horrify our parents. My father was so close to Aston, how would he feel about him if he knew what we’d done?

  We weren’t related by blood. We weren’t siblings from birth. We had always been best friends more than anything.

  Were we really to blame?

  I sighed and cuddled my pillow to my chest. I stared at the wall he knocked on when he needed me, and I felt panic at the thought of that knock never sounding out. I needed Aston, and he was going to move out in a matter of weeks. And after tonight…I couldn’t bear being away from him.

  My future was uncertain. My wants unknown. My path uncarved.

  Without him in it, I would drown in his absence.

  13.

  Elise

  The next day was filled with unspoken words and glances. Eyes on eyes. Eyes on lips. Lips not yet on lips. I couldn’t concentrate at work, and Patrick wouldn’t stop talking to me. I shied away from his touches, didn’t return his smiles. I was sure I came off like a complete bitch, and I didn’t mean to, but I was no longer interested in distractions. All I kept imagining was last night and what Aston did to me. Oh, my God, it was amazing. Oh, my God, I wanted it again. I felt like a hussy in heat. I was strangely turned on, so much so, I ached.

  We hadn’t even had sex. What would the real thing do to me?

  By lunch time, Aston came around with his paintball attire on. He wasn’t part of the games and was only acting as referee, so he didn’t stink of sweat (not that I minded anyway). In fact, his man-scent was all the more pronounced as he leaned over the counter where I stood. Looking over my shoulder at Patrick (feet away with his back to us), he whispered, “Did you tell him?”

  Oh, shit. “No,” I replied.

  “Why not?”

  “I forgot.”

  His face darkened. “You want to come in my room again?”

  Come in what way? “Yes.”

  “Then un-forget and tell him.” He left right after that.

  I stared ahead for some time, trying to formulate the right excuse. Should I tell Patrick I was busy? But then he might want to reschedule, and I didn’t want to reschedule. I wanted Aston to hump me to orgasm again and kiss me with his tongue.

  Sighing, I turned around and stared at Patrick stacking the boxes of paintballs on the shelves.

  “Hey, Patrick?” I said, nervously.

  He stopped and turned around, flashing me a sweet, guilt-inducing smile. “Yeah?”

  “About tonight…”

  His body bobbed from foot to foot, like he needed to go to the bathroom, but really it was excitement. “I’m really looking forward to it. I have a nice place all planned out.”

  Shit. “Well, see, I uh…I can’t make it after all.”

  That smile slowly faded. “Serious?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Can I know why?”

  “It’s just…not a good time for…dating.” Weak excuse, El. So weak.

  He frowned. “I thought we liked each other. I mean, you’ve kind of been all over me. I thought it was in my head but Dad and the other guys…they said they saw the way you were around me and…” he trailed off, rubbing the back of his head with this confused look on his face.

  “Well,” I paused, searching for a way to fix this, “you know Cindy thinks you’re cute.”

  Fucking Cindy. Always my fall-back. She’d come around to laugh at me while I worked, so he knew her, and it wasn’t entirely a lie telling him she liked him. She thought every guy was cute. She’d be ecstatic if a guy like Patrick came around.

  “Cindy,” Patrick said, like he was trying out her name. “She’s a bit of a drama queen, isn’t she?”

  “She’s…different.”

  “But she’s not like you.” His puppy eyes were killing me. I felt so bad, it hurt.

  “I’m sorry,” I apologized.

  He shrugged casually, but I saw straight through him. “It’s fine, I guess. I had other things to do, so…”

  We stood around, looking at each other and then away. It was so awkward, like a nightmare that wouldn’t end.

  “Does this have something to do with Aston?” he blurted out questionably.

  I froze. Did he know? Was it obvious? Denial time. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, he’s your brother and he sees you around me, and he never looks happy. The dude hates my guts.”

  I let out a relieved breath. He didn’t know. “He doesn’t hate you, Patrick.”

  “He does. When I came to him and asked if I could take you out, he said no, and when he found out I didn’t listen, he put his finger across his throat.”

  What the hell? I shot him a perplexed look. “Um, what?”

  “Yeah. A finger across his throat.” He then proceeded to show me. He slid his index across his throat while giving me crazy eyes. “And that’s how he looked, El.” The crazy eyes grew fiercer. “Like this. He slid it across his throat like he was planning on cutting me open, and then he mouthed ‘you wait’. I felt like a pig brought to the slaughterhouse. The dude was serious. I didn’t doubt it for a second.”

  So Aston knew about the date. It explained how calm he was at the dinner table. With the images of how he must have looked making that threat – all Thor-like with that long hair and built body and scary – it took everything inside of me not to cackle. I bit the inside of my mouth so hard, I tasted blood. I cleared my throat every time a giggle began to surface, and then I coughed profusely.

  “Aston is protective of me,” I tried to explain, though my voice was high as a kite.

  “Maybe I dodged a bullet then,” Patrick whispered under his breath. “I like my throat in one piece.”

  He spent the rest of the day away from me, and Aston smirked at the distance between us when he came through the door an hour later.

  Another win for him.

  *

  I lay in bed that night, waiting for a sign of…something. Mom had gone to sleep a half hour ago and Dad was on night shift and wouldn’t be back until morning. I couldn’t hear Aston like I usually did. There was no bed squeaking, no audible sigh to be heard. It made me wonder if he was even there. Until…

  Knock. Knock.

  Yes! I slipp
ed out of bed and tip-toed to the door. If I was sneaking out of my room for any other reason, I wouldn’t have been so cautious, but this…this required caution to the umpteenth degree.

  I opened my bedroom door and looked down the dark hallway at the last bedroom where Mom was sleeping. It might as well have been on the moon, and with her door shut, I was a little more at ease. I felt like James Bond – or Bondette for more of a feminine touch – as I moved to Aston’s door, peering over my shoulder, at the hallway, at the staircase, at the walls even. When the coast was totally undeniably clear, I opened it, wincing every time it creaked in the silence. Were these doors always so loud? Were they designed so that parents could catch their teenage kids doing questionably wrong things? I stepped into the darkness of his room and shut it behind me. Yes, yes, yes, I did it! James Bondette for the win.

  I didn’t make it all the way around before hands wrapped around me, slamming me into Aston’s hard body. His mouth was on mine before I had a chance to think. God, yes!

  “Aston,” I moaned.

  He breathed raggedly, tightening his hold around my body. “No,” he bit back. “No talking.”

  Okay, I could handle that.

  He took me to the bed without a word and pushed me back on the mattress. Then he stood there, looming over me from the edge of the bed for a few seconds, looking me over, a concentrated expression on his face.

  I breathed heavily, anticipation building within me. He slowly moved on to the bed and over me, his eyes fluttering across my body before his mouth touched mine. His hair draped us, obscuring me from the walls of whom were bearing witness to our crimes. He savoured our kisses, languidly drawing his tongue over mine, tasting me, until my blood burned with need and my body writhed beneath him. I spread my legs readily for him this time, part of me hoping he’d slip my shorts off and take me that way. But he didn’t. His hands slid down my body, gripping my hips and then my thighs as he settled between them, never leaving my mouth, never stopping to breathe.

  Then he moved. Oh, my God, did he move.