Tiger's Obsession Collection (Erotic Romance Complete Series - 6 books)

by TorreS, Pet

  My feet reach a piece of the room. I look at the walls and ahead I see the picture with my nudity, hung on the wall near his bed. Well above his bed.

  Promptly, I realize that he still retains memories of our past together. From his obsession with me.

  It comforts me. I imagine that no other woman has fascinated him as I did one day.

  But it's not fair of me being selfish right now. Now I'm with Armando, we are trying to build a future together.

  Larsson Tiger does not fit in that future.

  Everything of him stayed in the past.

  I need to understand that.

  Soon, my heart precipitates when my eyes park in a dark image. His back is turned to me, sitting in his wheelchair. Using only a black robe with the print of a tiger in the back.

  Quietly, he observes the garden landscape through the wall of glass in his room. His wheelchair is standing in front of that wall.

  - I knew you would come.

  He says, without looking at me. Larsson knows my movements better than anyone. My steps. He does not need to look at me to be sure of that.

  - Why did you hung up like that?

  I questioned standing at a good distance behind him.

  - If I didn't do that, you wouldn't come here now.

  He answers still with his back turned to me.

  Without any bumps, he lifts a bottle of whiskey 'The dalmore' to his lips and takes a sip.

  I despair, take the bag from my shoulder and throw it to the ground. I run toward Larsson and stop in front of him. I look in his face and realize that he is drinking for more than hours. His eyes are red and cramped with drunkenness. That must have been why he did that scandal by the phone saying he was feeling pain.

  - Give me that!

  I order and take the bottle from his hand.

  - For now you can't drink alcoholic beverages! You are taking medications contradictory to it.

  Larsson smiles. Not caring about that. Don't giving a shit about his own health.

  In haste, I put the bottle of whiskey in a place which Larsson has difficult access. Soon I return to him and stand in front of him again. I sigh wearily. He looks like a big kid in a constant prank crisis.

  - Please Larsson, cooperate with your recovery! Alone, doctors cannot perform miracles.

  His eyes fill with tears. His arms grab me with despair. I feel them around my waist and my ribs. Immediately thereafter, I am drawn quickly to him. My hands land on his shoulders and he keeps tightening me against him with a deep despair. Forgetting that he can break me in half under the strength of his powerful arms.

  - Please, Emily! Do not leave me alone! I need you!

  I close my eyes. I hold a bitter tear. I feel that Larsson really needs help. He never got that way. I've never seen him like that, begging for help and someone's company.

  My God, how the world goes round!

  -...Okay...

  Finally I say and my hands hold the side of his face carefully. I try to be kind to him and convince him of the reasonable thing to do.

  - Trust me now and let me take you to bed. You need to rest. See! This is not the normal state of a person in medical treatment phase.

  I say looking down at his body. It smells like vodka.

  - You should hate this damn drink! Remember that you were completely drunk when your car collided with a truck.

  - I would rather have died.

  He confesses with cold and distant eyes.

  I go down to his knees and stare at him with compassion.

  - Don't say that. You will overcome this. I believe that.

  Discredited, Larsson is silent. He prefers not to expose his entire frustration repressed in him at that time.

  I get up and go to the back of his chair. I push it lightly toward his bed.

  With great difficulty, I can help the wheelchair user to go to his comfortable bed. He lays on his back and looks sadly at the ceiling.

  - Now you need to rest.

  My voice appears in the silence between us. Larsson looks to the side and see me standing next to his bed. He observes that I'm using a wool little coat, and a printed dress underneath.

  - Lie here.

  His hand pats lightly on his mattress.

  - Beside me.

  He insists.

  However, my head gently chides and shakes.

  - No...I...cannot...

  His green eyes stare at me.

  - Please...I need you...

  I close my eyes and think that's not right. I think of Armando, I also think of myself. I'm flesh and blood, and even though Larsson is sick, he still is an attractive man to my eyes.

  Just a single slip and I may be in his claws again.

  - Please, Emily!

  His voice seems innocent. Full of good intentions.

  - I promise I will not touch a finger on you.

  I struggle to say something.

  - I need to get back home...

  - Stay here until I fall asleep, then ask my driver to take you home.

  - All right.

  At last I agree. I circle the bed and lie slowly on the other side. My body is aside while I'm facing towards him. I feel more comfortable like this, that way I can watch all his sudden movements. This way I can also watch over his sleep for a while.

  Larsson keeps his promise and does not move his arms. He respects me and I like that.

  It's like I'm lying before a new Larsson.

  Or, in other words, a Larsson that has been reborn, that is with a resurgent soul.

  It takes a few minutes for him to finally fall asleep. His drunkenness soon makes him sleep. I lift my head from the pillow and watch him for a while. His face is so pale and a little dejected. This may be the effect of the medications and also of his few trips to the sunshine outside.

  I feel a strong desire to put my hand on his hair, on his fringe and throw it away from his face, but I don't dare to do this or he may wake from his deep sleep.

  Unintentionally, my eyes descend toward his chest. His robe is a little open at the front, so I notice that he does not have the gold chain with the tiger pendant.

  I believe he lost it during the accident.

  I look at him once again, my face tilts toward his right hand and I place a soft goodbye kiss on it.

  Larsson does not awaken with my affectionate and secret gesture.

  Slowly I get up from his bed and look at the picture hanging on his wall. Somehow I'm still present in his life.

  Soon after I shift my gaze from the exceptional painting and walk toward my purse, pick it up off the floor and try to go out of his room through the open door.

  Larsson will probably sleep through the night.

  Chapter 8

  On a Friday night

  - Mari is on duty today?

  - Yes. - I answer to Armando. Then I take my orange juice to my lips. Armando is sitting in front of me on the other side of the table inside a coffee shop in the city center. We decided to go out for a quick bite to fool our hunger, so neither myself nor Armando would need to go in front of the stove and go throw the hassle of preparing something decent to eat.

  - What do you think for us to go to the beach on Sunday?

  He insists, after biting another piece of his burger smeared with mayonnaise and ketchup.

  I shrug my shoulders. - If it doesn't rain, it'll be fine by me.

  I raise my head and look forward, in the direction glass door and see someone entering the coffee shop, more precisely a wheelchair being pushed from behind by a man. They stop in front of a table a little further ahead from us.

  I keep looking at him with my frozen look.

  He's here.

  I think and scratch the back of my neck uneasily. However, Larsson looks at me all the time, he doesn't detach his look from us.

  Nevertheless I try to disguise and avoid looking in his direction for a long time. After a while I realize that this is inevitable, my eyes unintentionally run toward him in every second.
<
br />   Realizing my hypnotism, Armando turns back, looking over his left shoulder and sees Larsson sitting in his wheelchair and his driver Balzak is standing behind him. Armando frowns toward them and Larsson looks at him with deflowering, thus raising his chin higher up.

  Slowly, Armando looks back to my face, so turning his back on the two men behind him.

  - You know that guy?

  He questions by realizing our secret exchange of glances.

  I lower my head and look to the side, thus looking lost and confused. I even forget my sandwich and my glass of juice on the table.

  -...Yes...

  I finally answer.

  - Who is he?

  Armando insists and looks at me from the bottom up, scratching me as if I had just done something wrong.

  I lift my head and look to his face with fear.

  - He is Larsson Tiger, my patient.

  Angry, Armando throws the rest of his sandwich in the dish and rises hastily, he looks toward Larsson and realizes he is still looking at us. This angers him even more, then Armando stares at me, still sitting at the table. He raised his arms furiously and exclaims loudly.

  - What are you waiting? Go sit on his lap!

  At this moment, I close my eyes. I'm not hearing that. Armando is having a fit of jealousy inside a coffee shop and worse, Larsson is a few feet away witnessing everything.

  - Please, Armando...

  I try to say with a low voice and open my eyes, then I see that Armando turns his back to me and steps forward. My heart races with fear. I fear that he may cause some trouble with Larsson Tiger.

  He goes on and passes Larsson and his driver, however, the two of them exchange an aversion look to each other for some time. Tired of being there in front of the whole situation, Armando resumes his fast and angry steps and leaves the coffee shop through the glass door.

  With his rude attitude, Larsson holds a satisfied smile in the corner of his mouth. He looks toward my table and sees that I'm paralyzed, dying of shame of a mediocre jealousy scene.

  I look down and avoid looking at anything around me and especially toward Larsson.

  This takes a few minutes when I finally can get up from my chair and walk towards the exit of the coffee shop.

  However, my eyes deviate from Larsson's image ahead, I pass by his table keeping my neck rigid, thus not allowing me to look at him or his driver near him.

  Because, deep down I feel a grudge. Larsson managed to ruin the very end of my meal next to the man who really respects me.

  The man who has brought me so much joy over a few months.

  After passing next to Larsson's table, I finally hear his voice in my back.

  - Emily!

  Immediately, I shrug my shoulders before his tender voice. Slowly I look back toward him and I put my hands in the pockets of my jeans. My hair is hold by a bun on top of my head.

  That night, I don't look so appealing. So I imagine.

  Larsson's eyes become greener, they shine in my direction in every second. I look down and I see that he is wearing a black shirt and dark jeans.

  Probably he has abandoned his 'black coat', which should have been destroyed in his accident.

  He further looks into my physiognomy and confesses before his driver.

  - I'm here only to see you.

  Without blinking, I look to one side. He insists with his simultaneously soft and husky voice.

  - I miss you.

  Instinctively I turn my back to him and walk toward the glass door. I leave the place in a hurry, without saying anything.

  I confess that Larsson's confession has moved me. Although I must not believe in his words, however, they look so real, so true...

  Somehow, it makes me feel good...

  Chapter 9

  The following day in the afternoon...

  Hurriedly, I hold my cell phone and see a message on the display.

  I scrunch my brow as I read it in silence.

  I NEED TO SEE YOU EMILY FONTANA...MY HEALTH CONDITION GOT WORSE...

  From: Larsson TIGER

  ***

  Sometime later...

  Standing, and keeping some distance from the man I see as a constant threat to me, I notice Larsson sitting in his chair in his bedroom, his wheelchair is near the glass wall. He spends most of his time there, looking at the fabulous garden through it.

  Because of this he feels more comfortable with his physical disability that prevents him from making everything he did before with his inferior movements.

  This is being a very difficult and crucial period for him.

  Unexpectedly, he stands up and tries to walk with his stiff and immobile legs. But his body does not support its own weight and he falls to the ground. He can't move.

  Shocked by this scene, I watch him in silence and hold with affliction the skirt of my cylindrical dress with flower prints.

  From the bottom of my soul, I want to help him, but I can't, I'm numbed facing his disability.

  It haunts me.

  To see the mighty Tiger Larsson, who I met walking perfectly and now he can't take a step forward, using his own legs.

  This is not the Larsson Tiger that I know.

  Keeping his head down. He only sees the white and shiny floor of his luxurious bedroom.

  His hand slips thru his bangs and he throws it back with fury.

  Thus exclaiming something in anger.

  - I WOULD RATHER DIE THAN TO BE LIKE THIS! I WOULD RATHER GIVE A SHOT IN MY HEAD AND FINISH THIS ONCE AND FOR ALL.

  His cold and insane words shocked me even more. Would he be able to end his own life? All because of his disability?

  I don't want to pay to see it. Then I remember that he has a gun. Without thinking, I run towards his black closet. Lean and begin to open the doors of the cabinets, looking for the firearm, before he does something stupid to himself.

  However, I don't find it. I lean down and open a few drawers. I fidget his garments, mess them around with despair and still don't find his weapon. Next I try the third drawer and see a few pieces of clothes he usually uses at home.

  My fingers sink into the garments and I pull a lot of them at one time, however, my eyes freeze on two pieces of women's clothing.

  I know these clothes perfectly. They are my cotton sweater and my white cotton panties. These are the undergarments that I was wearing the night he rescued me by the roadside.

  What are my garments doing in the middle of Larsson's Tiger clothes?

  What does he might do with them?

  I question within me, while I look at them for a few seconds, but I don't have time for questions, so I throw them back into the drawer and I stand up. I run hastily into the room and see the little table next to Larsson's bed. I open the drawer and I finally see the black pistol.

  I hold the gun and hide it under my dress. I run hastily out of Larsson's room before he can realize that I hid his gun.

  Seconds later, I return to my room and realize that Larsson seems calmer. He tries to drag himself on the floor and get to his bed. Barefoot, he can do this with the support of his arms. His dark satin shorts and his black robe drag along with him.

  I run toward him and lean down, trying to help him. My arms cross his back and I find a way to better support its weight.

  With great difficulty we manage to reach his bed. He sits on it and grabs me with despair. His arms go through my ribs and tighten them with debauchery. My body trembles several times.

  I try to be vaccinated against his touch.

  His despair remains and he looks at my face and there are eye meetings hypnotized for each other.

  - I will only bear my disability every day if you're next to me and I can look into your eyes at every moment.

  He confesses looking into my honey colored eyes. Immediately I shift my gaze from him and try to get rid of his strong and scorching arms as soon as possible.

  My tears almost fall, I really feel touched by his situation. Larsson truly needs a support other t
han money.

  Because that he has to spare.

  - You'll be fine without me by your side.

  I say it with a sharp voice. I can hardly breathe in view of this cruel reality with Larsson and also with me.

  He holds my wrists and takes them to him, his green eyes descend to them and see some purple bruising. His forehead wrinkles and he questions me promptly.

  - Did somebody hurt you?

  - That's none of your business.

  I pull them from his hands and throw my body back, so I can get rid of his body control. He remains sitting on the bed, his lower limbs are completely immobile. He really can't impose any control over his legs.

  - He hit you?

  Larsson insists. Knowing this is male aggression.

  I roll my eyes and sigh, wishing not to talk about it. After all this context relates only to Armando and me.

  - I have no way to hide it from you. After all you've attacked me again and again.

  - My question was another one.

  - Yes.

  I confess and look at the wall to the side.

  - He's jealous of a patient named Larsson Tiger.

  I try to smile, but I look to Larsson's face and he remains serious, staring at me with his disapproving look.

  - My fiancé is very jealous.

  - Fiancé?

  He asks dumbfounded. The word fiancé seems a very dangerous poison against him. A bomb that can destroy his world. Perhaps his world of obsessions.

  My honey colored eyes find the ground while I try to confess it.

  - I will get married in a few months.

  Hearing this, Larsson seems lost, his hand glides through his bangs and he throws it back, his green eyes find the nothingness. He remains silent.

  The powerful Larsson William Tiger imagines that he lost me for a man who barely came into my life. A guy who would never get to his feet.

  ***

  While leaving Larsson's mansion, I seek distraction at a leisure playground, far from that place. However, after a few blocks I stop in front of a wooden bench. I look around and I see happy people, children playing in the company of their parents. Dogs walking with their owners across the sidewalk. I look at myself and see myself there, standing in front of a place full of external harmony and I do not seem to have any inside me.