Forbidden Obsessions Read online

  Her phone buzzed and she grabbed it off the table, glancing at the display. She blanked it before he could read the whole thing over her shoulder, but he’d seen one word.

  Surgeon.

  Abruptly, she shoved her chair back, nearly knocking him over in the process. “Go without me,” she said, heading out the kitchen door. “I need to make a call.”

  He stood there like an idiot until he heard her door close. Yeah, like he was going anywhere now. Was that why she’d been so upset the other day? She needed more surgery? The thought put a giant kink in his gut. The vulnerability in her eyes mixed with the strength and determination in her posture was a deadly combination, and he didn’t think he was immune.

  As hard as it was not to follow after her, he sat down at the table and shuffled through the next stack of papers, giving her some space. About twenty-five minutes into his wait, he found the notes he was looking for, scribbled on the back of an invoice from the company where he bought the bondage gear he kept stocked in the house. Thank God. He went to his office, scanned it and emailed it to the lawyers. He put the original in his safe so he didn’t lose it again, and then started upstairs.

  Fuck it, he was checking on her. It’d been nearly half an hour, and he was at the end of his patience.

  * * *

  She sat on the edge of the bed, still holding her cell phone, staring at pretty much nothing. When a soft knock sounded, she jumped. Gabe. She’d left him so abruptly, she wasn’t surprised he’d come to find her. She looked down at the time on the phone. She was only surprised he’d waited as long as he had. She didn’t even bother to look in the mirror. She knew what he’d see, and it wasn’t pretty.

  She opened the door. “Hey.”

  He cut right to the chase. “You okay?”

  Well, that was the question of the day, wasn’t it? “Honestly, I don’t know.”

  He didn’t wait for an invite, just stepped into the room and pulled her into his arms. Christ, he felt good, and she needed a hug so badly. But she stayed rigid in his arms, afraid if she let go, she’d fall apart.

  “Tell me,” he said, not asking, but demanding in that voice she knew was his Dom voice. She knew it, because it called to a part of her that felt like it was finally being acknowledged. When she didn’t answer right away, he stepped back and put his hands on her shoulders, squeezing them lightly. “Tell me.”

  “I have to have some tests done,” she said, choking out the words. It took her three tries to get the rest out. “I-I might need more surgery.”

  He swore. “Why?’

  And he was going to swear more, as soon as she told him the rest. It would be good practice for telling her parents, she thought with black humor. “I’ve been having pain in my back near the first surgery site.”

  His jaw screwed tight. “How long have you been having it?” She looked down at the floor, but wasn’t surprised when he tucked a finger under her chin and made her look him in the eyes. “When does it hurt, Olivia?”

  She swallowed and tried to look away, but he wouldn’t let her. “I’ve had it for a while. Mostly when I’m doing my exercises.”

  “Jesus. And you were exercising anyway? Have you lost your mind?”

  Anger rose up within her, swift and sure. “Yes, I nearly did lose my bloody mind, lying in a hospital wondering if I’d ever walk again. And I lost even more of it trying to recover from not one, but two surgeries. And then there’s my family, who remind me every time I see them I wouldn’t be in this situation if I’d had a more suitable job for a woman. So excuse the hell out of me for not wanting to admit there might be something else wrong, something that might mean another damn surgery.”

  She wrenched herself out of his grasp and dropped onto the bed’s edge, pounding the mattress with her fists. Even through the violent storm of emotions flooding her, she knew she wasn’t angry with him for pointing her stupidity out. She was furious with herself for having been such a coward and waiting this long to see her doctor.

  He sat next to her on the bed and, after a tense moment, pulled her into his arms again. This time, she relaxed into his embrace, needing the strength from him to shore up her own. She felt as weak as a newborn kitten, terrified of what the MRI would show, overwhelmed by the thought of any more surgery.

  He stroked her back lightly, holding her close, silent for several long minutes. He probably thought she had truly lost her mind, the way she’d lost her temper. When she felt like she had herself back under control and could talk to him without sounding like a child throwing a tantrum, she sat back, risking a glance up at his face. She wasn’t prepared for the fierceness in his eyes, and she couldn’t quite decipher the look on his face.

  Her heart raced. “I’m sorry. I didn’t meant to rant—”

  “Ah, fuck it.” He muttered the words, then slanted his mouth across hers, shocking her both mentally and physically.

  He wasn’t gentle. The kiss was hard, almost bruising in its intensity. He slid his fingers through her hair and held her face steady, controlling the kiss easily. His tongue demanded entry and she gave in to his dominance, her body clamoring for more. He gave it, too, taking his lips from hers and nipping lightly at her jaw, stroking his tongue along her neck, suckling the skin where neck met shoulder.

  She couldn’t hold back the needy sound that escaped. All the terrible things in her brain floated away, and all she could think of was please don’t stop.

  “You make me crazy,” he murmured against her skin, sliding one hand under her shirt, moving it up her torso in small increments until his fingers rested over the mound of her breast. He squeezed gently, but gentle wasn’t what she wanted. She arched into his hot hand, and he squeezed harder.

  She moaned and he took her mouth again, possessive and demanding, then pinched her nipple. It stung, but in such a good way she whimpered and strained toward him, begging for more.

  Suddenly it was as if she’d given him implicit permission, and he growled low in his throat. His hands were everywhere on her body, tunneling through her hair, cupping her other breast, glancing briefly between her legs. His mouth was everywhere too, biting and licking and sucking. His passion was so intense it scared her at first, but she’d never felt so overwhelmingly taken. She’d never been this turned on in her life, and arousal had never happened this quickly.

  He tumbled her backward until they were lying on the bed, his body half atop hers. She put her hands on his chest and he hesitated the tiniest bit, but when she didn’t push him away, his eyes went blazing hot. He grabbed both her wrists in his hand and drew her arms up over her head, holding them there easily.

  She nearly came from that alone, from that single act of his control. Christ, she wanted more. She had one small thought that this was a bad idea, that she had goals and plans and this wasn’t part of them, but then he kissed her again and she couldn’t think anymore.

  This time, the kiss was easy and sweet, the perfect contrast to his dominance. He still controlled it, shifting his hold of her to one hand while he held her face steady with the other, not letting her take the kiss any deeper. She whimpered and he laughed, the sound making goose bumps rise along her skin. He kept the kiss going, teasing her mouth with strokes of his soft tongue.

  And then things went to hell.

  He moved to kneel between her spread legs, but the action put more pressure on the hands he held over her head. It caused her shoulders to rotate farther, and when he settled his big body between her thighs, the counterpoint of pressure there put a bigger arch into her spine, right at the one spot where she was still having problems. Sharp, stinging pain shot through her, making her eyes water.

  “Oh, shit,” she hissed, struggling against him, trying to back away from what was causing the pain.

  Gabe released her immediately. Horror etched across his face, and he paled. “Jesus, I’m sorry
.” He reached out to caress her face but pulled his hand back, the worry in his eyes obvious as he debated even that light touch.

  He didn’t need to stress. The second he’d released her, the pain had eased. “I’m okay now.”

  He swore. “Goddamn it, I never should’ve done that.” He shoved himself off the bed and paced the room, running hand through his hair, arguing with himself under his breath as if she weren’t even in the room. His last words were understandable, though. “What the fuck was I thinking?”

  She stood up gingerly, testing her back by turning, bending. Fine, no residual pain. Just like when she exercised. Only certain angles hurt, and apparently, that arch was one of them. “I’m fine, Gabe. Just a twinge.”

  Self-directed fury laced his words. “A twinge doesn’t make you cry. Christ.”

  She reached out to take his hand, but he pulled it away and she sighed. “It’s like that with the exercise too. It comes and goes. That’s why I kept putting off going to the doctor.”

  “Which makes us both idiots, then.”

  Well, didn’t that sting, nearly as much as her back. She ignored it, though, because she knew where his words were coming from. “I’m not made of glass. You’re not going to break me. I wanted that.” She looked down at the rumpled bed and blushed. “You had to know I wanted that. I wasn’t saying no. We just need to be careful.”

  He let fly a vicious curse. “We need to not do this again.” He headed to the door and stopped when he reached it, looking back over his shoulder. His face was hard, his eyes harder, and it made her stomach clench. “This was a mistake.”

  * * *

  Gabe pulled into his driveway and turned off the engine. Shit. Olivia’s SUV wasn’t here. She was staying away longer and longer every day, which meant she wasn’t resting. She’d gotten better about not overdoing the exercise, but she’d replaced that with an incessant need to be doing something, anything that involved moving.

  Ever since his appalling lapse in judgment earlier in the week, he was trying to keep his distance. It was better for both of them, really. He couldn’t trust his self-control around her. He’d hurt her, and not in a good way, because he couldn’t keep his fucking hands to himself. But damned if he didn’t still want her anyway, and if he couldn’t trust himself, the best thing he could do was stay away.

  Only, when he was away from her, he still wanted her. Under his hands, bound to the cross in his attic playroom, on her knees at his feet. Vivid images bombarded him, adding to his building frustration. And when they were together, working in his office or eating meals that had become silent torture, the want was even stronger. It was a no-win situation.

  He went into the kitchen and stowed the groceries. It wasn’t until he was finished putting everything away that he saw the note from Olivia propped up against the coffee mug that wasn’t usually far from his hand. Went out to dinner. Her name was signed with a flourish, but that was it. Nothing else.

  He wanted to throw something. It wasn’t any of his business, but fuck, he wanted to know where she was and who she’d gone out with. He grabbed his cell phone from his belt and punched in a number he knew by heart.

  “Is she with you?” he demanded as soon as Marcus answered.

  “Uh, Gabe?”

  “Yeah. Is Olivia there?”

  There was a slight pause. “No, why? Did you lose her?”

  The amusement in Marcus’s voice was obvious, and Gabe ground his teeth together. “She left a note saying she went out to dinner. I wondered if she was out with you.”

  “Sorry, it’s just me and Bella tonight. I’d let you talk to her, but she’s a little tied up right now.”

  There was a muffled protest and, even though he was still focused on where the hell Olivia might be, Gabe couldn’t help but grin at the picture that painted in his brain. Before he could say anything, Marcus continued.

  “Someone didn’t follow my orders today, so we have business to attend to. I’m sure Olivia’s fine. Gotta go,” he said, and hung up.

  Well, hell.

  Gabe’s stomach growled, and even though he’d just gotten groceries, he was no longer in the mood to cook. He called down to Angelo’s, the Italian restaurant that rented space on his property, and ordered dinner to-go for himself.

  He grabbed his keys off the counter, locked up and walked along the brick path that ran between the B&B and the restaurant. It was a nice night, quiet and serene, but it did little to calm the agitation roiling inside him.

  He shouldn’t be this unsettled about what Olivia did with her time, but the thought of her having dinner out somewhere with someone else brought out the possessive bastard he shared a soul with, in spite of the fact that she wasn’t his. Not someone he was dating, not even a casual, no-strings-attached sub. It didn’t matter. That possessive guy wasn’t happy at all.

  His reasons for calling a halt the other night were sound, but fuck him, he still wanted her, even though he’d been the one to push her away. Christ. He was a Dom, a trainer of subs, a mentor for other Doms. He held classes on basic D/s, seminars on advanced subjects, and he always emphasized the need for clear communication between partners. So why couldn’t he just hold a simple conversation about sex and kink with her and explain his concerns about getting involved?

  He let the question stew in his brain as he stepped inside Angelo’s. It wasn’t like he hadn’t had his share of women, submissive or not. He had. It wasn’t like he couldn’t find a play partner. He could. But he wanted Olivia. It was obvious she wanted him too, and she’d been completely caught up in the moment before he’d miscalculated and pushed her arms back too far. She’d even wanted him after he’d screwed up.

  His chaotic thoughts were taking him in circles and making him crazy. Want, good conscience. Need, responsibility. Shit, he needed to just give it a rest.

  As his eyes adjusted to the lower lighting inside the restaurant, he looked around for Tony, who’d taken his order. His stomach growled. As always, it smelled fantastic. And the dining room was nicely full for a weeknight. He’d worried that Bondage and Breakfast being closed would hurt the restaurant’s profits, but according to Angelo, it hadn’t. That was good. One less thing to feel guil—

  His gaze flew back toward one of the two secluded tables in the darkest part of the restaurant, reserved for people who knew to ask for them, or those staying at the inn. The restaurant was open to anyone, but erotic things often happened at those tables. He moved toward the table like a man on a mission, his focus solely on the woman he couldn’t get out of his thoughts.

  Olivia.

  Chapter Five

  He ignored Tony calling his name. There was only one thing on his mind at this very second, and it sure as hell wasn’t food.

  Olivia had dressed for dinner, with her hair swept back away from her face. He could only see the top of whatever she was wearing, which was black, low cut and sexy as sin. It clung to her breasts and dipped to a deep V between them. Her shoulders were exposed except for thin straps and, even the in the dim light, he could see a small bruise at the base of her long, slender neck where he’d tasted her, licking and biting at her skin. He was both dismayed he’d left it there and deeply satisfied he’d been the one to mark her as his. He was so focused on how amazing she looked, it took a moment to realize she was reading while she nibbled at her salad. Relief rushed through him.

  If she was reading, she was eating alone.

  He stopped in front of her table and she looked up, smiling. The smile wavered, though, when she realized it was him and not the server.

  His voice came out thickly. “Hey.”

  She put down her e-reader, but couldn’t hide the slight tremor in the movement. “Hi.”

  “May I join you?” he asked, feeling like a teenager asking the hottest girl in the school for a date. He remembered that feeling
, and yeah, it wasn’t any less nerve-racking thirty years later, either. He was a Dom, for fuck’s sake. He’d be laughed out of the club if anyone could see what was going on inside his head right now.

  She hesitated for the briefest of moments. “Sure.” She picked up her wine and took a sip. “I just ordered, so you have time.”

  He forced a smile, feeling nowhere near as casual as he was acting. “I ordered earlier. Takeout, but I’ll ask them to bring it when they bring your meal. I’ll be right back.”

  He went up to the front of the restaurant to tell Tony he’d be joining Olivia for dinner, then went back to the table.

  She was sitting there twirling her still-full wineglass in her fingers, her gaze unfocused as if she were lost in thought. He knew that feeling. He’d spent much of the past few days at his desk in a similar state as he tried to figure a way out of this corner they’d gotten themselves into. That he’d gotten them into, really. He’d been the one to make the first move. So he was the one who’d have to make things right again, whatever that meant.

  Starting now.

  * * *

  Olivia’s train of mixed-up thoughts was derailed when Gabe pulled out the chair next to her instead of across the table and sat down. The waiter poured him a glass of wine and set a salad and basket of bread on the table, then left them alone. It stayed silent for a moment, and then Gabe spoke.

  “You look beautiful tonight,” he said, his voice almost solemn.

  She slid a glance his way. His eyes were serious and locked onto her. He’d had that same look on his face and in his eyes since the day they’d kissed and things had gone to hell. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Thank you.” She wasn’t sure what else to say. Anything else seemed to cross the line he’d drawn between them.