Page 18 of Dangerous Obsession

LEO

Now that Dad knows I’m here and I’m not leaving—and I’m not getting rid of Willow—I don’t bother with being quiet. I storm out of his room and take the steps two at a time, my boots clunking on the wood floor. I hope Willow didn’t hear that argument, but even if she did, she’d know how hard I’ll fight for her. My feet hit the first floor and I walk straight to the kitchen, to the south side of the house. It’s a galley kitchen, stretching the length of the flat from front to rear, with a dining area near the front.

The lights flicker to light when I hit the switch and I head for the fridge. I need to calm down and blow off steam and a beer or two will help that along. Dad can’t drink anymore, but I know my brothers keep the fridge stocked for their regular rotations of being here to sit with him. The stainless-steel appliances reflect my movement, blurring my actual image. It’s how I feel I’ve gone through life—blurred out because my mere existence has upset people.

I grab a six-pack of beer and shut the fridge, then head toward the back hall that passes through the mudroom and allows me entrance to the main hall where my father’s old room is. Willow was pretty pissed that I left her, so maybe she’ll want a beer too. So far, Dominic has not followed me down the stairs, and I don’t hear shouting, so maybe he’s talking some sense into my father. Or maybe they’re devising a plan to get rid of her. The latter is probably more accurate.

When I walk into the room and turn the light on, I hear sniffling and see Willow curled up under the blankets. As promised, I shut the door and lock it, then set the beer on the oak nightstand that matches the dresser and bed frame. She pulls the blanket down far enough she can see me and watches as I rifle through the dresser in search of ammunition.

"That didn’t sound like it went so well.”

“It didn’t,” I grumble, but I find the nine-mil ammo in the top left drawer. I pull my weapon and take the clip out, then load fifteen new rounds into it and pop it back into place. With the one round already chambered, I have a full weapon just in case Dom gets any stupid ideas. I don’t think he will. He’ll let me sleep on it. If something is going down, I assume it will be tomorrow morning.

“I told you he would want me gone, and by the way it sounds, he wants me dead.” Willow sits up. Her eyes are red and puffy from crying. Tears still glisten in them. “They’re not touching a hair on your head.” Now a bit more comfortable, I lay my gun next to the beer and kick my shoes off, then strip out of my clothing, leaving only my boxers, and climb into bed.

“Is one of those for me?” she asks when I crack open a beer.

“Yeah,” mumbled, handing her one. She stares at it for a second then looks at me like I’m stupid.

“How will I open that?”

I am so irritated with her neediness at times. “With your hands.”

She takes the beer and repositions herself in bed so that she’s sitting next to me propped against the headboard. Her hands fumble with the cold bottle, struggling to work the cap, but she grunts and whines so much I set my beer down and take it from her hand to open it.

“There,” I tell her, giving it back to her without the cap.

“Thanks.” Willow cautiously takes the beer from me. She looks at me like she’s afraid of me or something. Or maybe she’s afraid of what she overheard. She sips the beer and watches me intently as I stew. My mind races so much I forget I even opened a beer. This family loyalty thing is at a whole new level following the ousting of the mole. It’s obvious my father and brothers blame me. It’s the only reason they would refuse to protect Willow; I know it.

They have always thought of me as the weak link. As if, should there be tragedy within the family, it would come through me. It’s infuriating that my own father and brothers don’t have my back when they should, and only because they blame me for Nick, or Mom, or Willow’s father, or whatever other plot came against them.

“Penny for your thoughts.” Willow’s soft tone breaks through to me and I watch her sip her beer.

“I don’t talk about my feelings. I fuck. Okay?” The beer on the nightstand is sweating, leaving a puddle of condensation around its foot.

“Then let’s fuck.” She sets her beer on her nightstand and pushes the covers back.

“What?”

I watch as she pulls her shirt off over her head, then shimmies her shorts and panties off and tosses her clothing to the floor.

“You don’t talk; you fuck, so let’s fuck. I mean…” she mewls, reaching beneath the covers until her hand rests on my dick, the thin layer of my boxers keeping me from enjoying the way she rubs me. “Fucking helps you relax, right? And you’re tense. It’s been a tough night. Let me help you.”

I sit straighter as she slides her hand into the opening of my fly. “Since when are you initiating sex? You told me you felt like a prisoner.”

“I don’t know, Leo, maybe I think it’s really arousing and hot that you stood up to your father and brother for me.” Willow pushes the blanket back and slips my cock out the front of my boxers. “Maybe I just get turned on by a man who fights for me.” She bends, lowering her mouth to my limp dick and flicking her tongue over it. IT sends a shiver of anticipation through me and I begin to swell.

“Maybe I’m tired of feeling like a prisoner. I like you fighting for me.” Willow wraps her mouth around my cock and begins to suck.

“You’re not a prisoner. You’re a fucking sexy woman.” I reach out, wrapping my fingers in her hair and pulling her head up so I can stare into her eyes as she sucks me. “I think you’re sexy as hell.” She looks at me out of the corner of her eye while she sucks me hard, stroking me with one hand.

“I think you’re sexy as fuck.” I croak, my voice straining. “You’re gorgeous.” She moans around my dick, sending vibrations through me. “You’re fucking gorgeous. Dirty. Sexy. You drive me crazy.”

She moans again.

“You make me crazy.” I tell her as she strokes me. “All I can think about is fucking you.” I push her head down so she has to take all of my cock into her mouth. “I think about you like this.” I pump into her mouth, working her head back and forth as I fuck her mouth just like I’d fuck her pussy. “I think about you like this and I lose my fucking mind.”

Her throat constricts around my head, making her gag, and she pulls back, but I push her head down hard and make her take it again and again, giving her time to breathe in between thrusts. Her ass in the air, the curve of her cheeks silhouetted against the bakdrop of the green walls is so fucking hot. I reach for her, grabbing and squeezing her ass cheek, and feel how moist she is.

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