Obsession (16 page)

His phone rang, and we pulled apart. As he hurried to the living room to answer it, I took a moment to catch my breath.

Peter loved me.

Why did that news make my heart feel heavier rather than lighter?

I knew I liked him—a lot—and our chemistry together could not be denied. What I felt sexually for Peter I could honestly say I hadn’t felt for another man.

But love?

“Yes, Omar,” Peter was saying. “I already got the revised schedule. Don’t worry.”

I turned back to the sink and rinsed the dinner plates we’d used so I could put them in the dishwasher. I heard Peter end his call, and he ambled back into the kitchen.

I faced him. “So, are we on for dinner with Marnie and Robert Friday night?”

“Dinner will be fine.”

“Good.” I smiled. “I’ll tell Marnie, and we’ll figure out where to go. It should be fun.”

“Fine. Now come here.”

He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me from the sink. Though my hands were wet, he linked fingers with mine and started to kiss me.

Before I could even fill the dishwasher, we ended up naked on the sofa, screwing like Energizer bunnies who couldn’t get enough sex.

More and more we were playing house—cooking together, cleaning together, watching movies on the sofa while wrapped in each other’s arms.

But there was no doubt that in the game of house, the bedroom was our favorite spot.

I went to Peter’s apartment early on Friday and used the key he’d given me to let myself in. He’d worked late Thursday night so I hadn’t bothered to head to his place then, but I’d promised to be there before he got home Friday.

His place was fairly tidy, except for a few plates and some cutlery sitting in the sink. I put them in the dishwasher and started the load, then wiped down the counters and burned a vanilla-scented candle so the place would smell nice when Peter arrived.

When he wasn’t home by six, I started to get concerned. He’d assured me that he would be home by five-thirty at the absolute latest so he’d have time to get ready for our dinner with Marnie and Robert. He was shooting something for a shoe company, and was supposed to start early to finish the job.

While I waited, I called Marnie.

“Hey, Soph,” she said. “We still on for eight o’clock?”

“Definitely,” I told her. “But, Peter’s not home yet, so I’m calling to say we might be a bit late.”

“Try not to be too late.”

“I hope we won’t be.”

“Good.”

I heard the doorknob turn. “Marnie, that’s Peter. We’ll see you later, okay?”

“Bye.”

When Peter stepped into the apartment, he wore a scowl. I went to him immediately and gave him a hug.

“Hi, baby,” I said. “Why do you look upset?”

“I had a shitty day,” he explained. “There were a lot of problems at the shoot.”

“Oh, no. Did everything work out okay?”

“In the end, yes. But I’m not sure I’ll be working for that production company anymore.”

“Why not?”

“I had a disagreement with the director.”

“Why?”

Peter waved off the question. “Difference of opinion. But seeing you makes everything better.” His body seemed to relax, and he rested his hands on my shoulders. “I like it that you’re here when I come home. It feels right.” He paused. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

“Oh?” I said, smiling.

“It’s the reason I’m late getting home.” Peter reached into his back pocket and produced a small blue velvet box. “Here.”

My stomach fluttered as he extended the box. “Peter…”

“Open it,” he said.

Drawing in a deep breath, I lifted the lid. And gasped when I saw a pair of earrings with what looked like diamonds set in a circle around a champagne-colored stone.

“Peter!”

“They’re diamonds,” he said. “Even the stone in the middle. Set in white gold.”

I stared at the earrings in awe.

“They’re only one third of a carat. Next time, it will be more.”

“They’re beautiful,” I told him, and gave him a soft kiss on the lips. “I love them.”

Other than the bracelet Andrew had given me on our first anniversary, he had never surprised me with a gift like this. Flowers on occasion. A box of chocolates for Valentine’s Day. I’d given him some serious hints about a tennis bracelet I wanted for our eighth anniversary, but he’d gotten me chocolates and a pair of shoes instead.

“I’m glad you like them,” Peter said, grinning. “Put them on.”

I slipped off my gold hoop earrings and put on the new ones.

“Beautiful,” Peter said. “Just like you.”

I went to the mirror beside the apartment door. The diamonds sparkled. “They’re stunning.”

Peter came behind me, met my gaze through the mirror. I watched and felt as he kissed my cheek.

“Now, what would you like to have for dinner?” he asked. “I make a very nice chicken parmigiana, with grilled vegetables. I can run to the grocery store and pick up everything I need.”

“Oh, no,” I said. “We have plans, remember? With Marnie and Robert.”

“That’s tonight?”

“Yes, that’s tonight,” I said, sounding a little exasperated. I couldn’t believe Peter had forgotten. “And we’ve got to be there for eight o’clock, so if you’re going to shower, you have to do it now.”

“I’m not sure I’ll be good company,” Peter said. “Like I told you, I had a bad day.”

No, no, no. This wasn’t happening. “Being out will cheer you up,” I said, my voice as upbeat as I could make it. I suddenly got the feeling I was going to have to twist Peter’s arm on this. “Marnie’s really funny, and she speaks highly of Robert. I bet you two will hit it off.”

Peter shrugged, as though I were asking him. As though we hadn’t agreed on this date two days ago.

“If you want,” I said, my mind scrambling, “we don’t have to stay out that late. We can come home early…for our own special dessert.”

Peter didn’t answer. Just strolled into the kitchen and pulled a bottle of beer from the fridge.

Marnie would hate me if I didn’t show up tonight. Well, if not hate, then she wouldn’t forgive me. Not if I blew her off twice in a row.

“I brought my clothes to change into,” I said seductively, “and figured we could shower together before going out…”

Peter lowered the bottle of beer from his lips, one eyebrow arching with interest as he looked at me. “You want to shower together? Right now?”

“We’ve got a bit of time,” I said, adding a little wink. Maybe sex would put Peter in a better mood, and in a better mood, I wouldn’t have any trouble getting him to our dinner date.

Peter put the bottle of beer back in the fridge, then smiling like a cat with a canary in its mouth, came toward me. He enveloped me in his arms, and as our bodies pressed together, I could feel that his cock was already hard.

We were both naked before we hit the bathroom. Peter released me to start the shower and adjust the temperature. Then he got into the stall and offered me his hand.

I got in with him and closed the shower door behind me. Warm water splashed across my face and body. Peter rubbed his hands over my breasts, squeezing my nipples. Then he moved both hands lower—one to my pussy, and the other to my ass.

I reached for his cock and began stroking his impressive shaft. We started to kiss, the warm water sluicing over our bodies.

Releasing me suddenly, Peter reached for the bar of Irish Spring. He rubbed the soap over my breasts, building up a large amount of bubbles before lathering up my torso. When he reached my vagina, his fingers worked over me not just to clean, but to fondle, and soon, I was gripping his shoulders and breathing heavily.

Peter lowered his head to one breast and began to suck my nipple while his fingers tantalized my clit. I wrapped my arms around his neck and held on as his soapy hands pleasured me.

The combination of his mouth on my breast and his fingers on my pussy had sweet heat pulsing through my clit. And when he switched his mouth to my other breast and gently suckled my nipple, I started to come, my orgasm blasting through me like a bomb.

I gasped as I held on to him, my knees unable to support me. I thought Peter would spread my folds and drive his cock into me, but instead he lifted me in his arms and carried me out of the shower. The air-conditioning cooled my body as he exited the bathroom, but his hands had me hot. We kissed as he carried me to his bedroom. Kissed as he laid me on his bed.

“I want to eat you,” Peter rasped.

“Let me please you,” I urged. Peter always gave when it came to oral sex, saying that my pleasure pleased him more than anything else. But I wanted to have him in my mouth for a change, feel his body succumb to my touch.

“Climb on my face then,” he said. “Let’s do it together.”

The thought alone had me moaning. Quickly, I straddled my hips over Peter’s face and positioned my own face over his cock. Overhead, the ceiling fan whirred, blowing cool air down onto our bodies. Goose bumps popped over my skin.

Within moments, though, my body exploded with heat as Peter gripped my ass and drew my clit into his mouth, and I was suddenly grateful for the extra blast of cool air from the fan. Groaning with delight, I took his cock in one hand and pumped it up and down, bringing it to full erection. Then, with Peter sucking my pussy, I slipped his cock into my mouth.

Up and down I moved my lips, trying to keep them steady between my euphoric gasps. I took him deep into my throat while pumping him, and Peter’s groans grew louder, intensifying my pleasure. He was ravenous, delving his tongue and fingers into my pussy, sucking my juices as though he couldn’t get enough of me.

I couldn’t concentrate on giving Peter head, not while he was so skillfully eating my pussy. It was the sound of him sucking on his fingers that finally had me going over the edge. Heat exploded through my body with an intense, sweet orgasm.

He wasn’t in my mouth, but Peter started to come as I was coming, his semen spurting upward, some falling on my hand. It was warm. I ran my finger over the tip of his penis, spreading the moistness around.

Moving my ass off of his face, Peter adjusted his body so that he was alongside me. He immediately began kissing me, then eased his body onto mine.

He was spreading my legs, settling between them.

“Peter—”

He silenced me with his lips and plunged his cock into my pussy. I wanted to tell him to put on a condom, but he kept kissing me, and then I simply couldn’t form the words.

Peter fucked me hard, then slow and tender. At seven-thirty, I knew we were going to be late, and tried to tell him so.

Instead of listening, he drove his cock into my pussy until I was no longer thinking about the time.

We didn’t stop fucking until nearly nine. Only then did Peter seem even mildly concerned about being late for our date.

“I have to take a shower,” he said. “We won’t be too late.”

I don’t know why, but his words pissed me off. He knew damn well we were too late for dinner, and I couldn’t very well call Marnie and tell her we’d been fucking.

Peter went to the bathroom. I glanced at the clock. It was eight-fifty-eight.

Shit.

I got up and crossed the room to where I had the bag with my clothes for tonight. Maybe if we hurried, we could make it there within half an hour and Marnie wouldn’t be too pissed.

I went to the bathroom door. “Hurry up,” I called.

“What?” Peter asked from in the shower.

“Hurry up! Maybe we’ll be in time for dessert.”

But Peter didn’t hurry. He showered as if he had all the time in the world. I put on my black dress and even did a quick coat of makeup, and still he was in the shower.

I was sitting on the armchair in his room, pouting, when he finally ambled out of the bathroom. He was rubbing a towel over his wet hair.

“Give me a few more minutes, and I’ll be ready,” he said. “Oh, I better brush my teeth.”

It was 9:22 p.m.

When Peter had the gall to head back into the bathroom, I lurched out of the chair. I grabbed my purse off the floor and headed to the door without saying goodbye.

I called Marnie when I was in the car. When she picked up, I said without preamble, “I’m sorry. I know you hate me, but I’m sorry.”

“Where are you?”

I sighed. “In my car. Leaving Peter’s place.”

“You’re on your way?”

I didn’t answer right away. “Peter…he’s still inside. I got pissed and I just left.”

“Robert, give me a minute, okay?” I heard Marnie say. Then there were some shuffling sounds and, after several seconds, Marnie came back on the line. “What is going on?”

“I was ready, then Peter got home and was stalling. And…”

“And what?”

I said nothing.

“What, you ended up fucking or something?”

“Yeah,” I admitted. What was the point in lying? “He was in a bad mood, so I just thought…and the time just flew.” I couldn’t completely blame Peter for our missing dinner. I was an adult. I had to take responsibility for allowing him to seduce me.

“What’s going on with you?” Marnie asked.

“I don’t think he really wanted to go out,” I said. “It was like pulling teeth trying to get him to get ready.”

“You know, sex is great, but not at the expense of a life.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re not returning calls, you’re standing me up. You never did that shit before.”

“It won’t happen again.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“What?”

“How much do you want to bet that the next time we have plans, Peter will pull some shit like this. I think he wants you all to himself.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I said. Marnie’s comment did make me think. Peter and I spent pretty much all our time at his place, and most of that time, we were screwing like we’d invented the art of sex.

“You’ve changed,” Marnie said. “And I don’t like it.”

A beat passed. “Do you still want me to meet you and Robert? I can come and have a cup of coffee or something.”

“Don’t bother,” Marnie snapped, and she hung up.

“Fuck!” I screamed, and tossed my cell phone onto the passenger seat.

I drove home a little recklessly. Turning corners too quickly. Zipping in and out of traffic. Speeding.