Obsession Too: Loving An Alpha Male Read online

  Jessica Watkins Presents

  Obsession Too:

  Loving an Alpha Male

  by SK LESSLY

  Copyright © 2016 by SK Lessly

  Published by Jessica Watkins Presents

  All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. Without limiting the right under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form by means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION:

  For everyone that has encouranged, pushed, inspired, and motivated me, this is dedicated to you.

  Author’s note:

  This, as with everything I write, is a labor of love. I hope you enjoy the story. It’s something that I’ve wanted to do for a long time and I hope you feel as though I pulled it off. Also, if you haven’t done so, log onto Spotify and enjoy the soundtrack to Obsession Too. It will definitely get you in the mood. Well, it did for me. Love you guys!

  Happy reading!

  Prologue

  One

  I can’t stop running. If I do, my life is over.

  This is what I tell myself over and over again as I move through the dark woods around me. My chest hurts from my lungs expanding and contracting at an alarming rate. I don’t know if I can make it, but I have to. I have to stay alive for him. I have to keep it together until he finds me.

  A curse abruptly sails from my tight lips just as a bullet whips past me, sending shards of bark into my face from the tree that is unfortunate to take the hit instead of me.

  Shit, I must keep moving. I churn my legs, fighting the burn it produces as my knees threaten to give out. I must keep moving. I can’t stop.

  I move through the branches that are impeding my escape, pushing them from my face as I try to survey the darkened area around me. I can’t tell whether it’s night or day. The density of these woods is devouring me. Its threat to choke me is becoming more and more profound. I can’t let that happen. I have to stay alive. I have to.

  As I hurdle over a large fallen tree stump laying across my path, pain suddenly slams into me, forcing my step to falter ever so slightly, but enough to have an effect.

  “Damn it!” I cursed into the night.

  The momentum of the collision rudely introduces me to the damp harsh ground. To protect my face from getting the blunt of the fall, I twist slightly and take the hit with my shoulder. I barely have time to protect my head with my arms before my body is careening uncontrollably down an embankment. Damn, I hope like hell I don’t fall off a cliff or a tree doesn’t materialize and kill me or paralyze me at the worst. That would truly suck.

  Finally, after what seems like forever, I can feel my body slowing down before coming to a complete stop. I don’t move right away. I lay there quietly, trying to listen for footsteps. Yet the only thing I can hear is the endless pulsing sound of my heart as it pumps erratically in my ear.

  I try to take in a few breaths, but the pain arresting my entire body is making it a chore to do. I have to move if I want to stay alive. I know this. When I attempt to get up, my side erupts in hot searing pain. I do my best to muffle my scream, but it still echoes against the humid air.

  Ugh, this hurts!

  Gritting my teeth, preparing for the worse, my hand cautiously moves to my lower left side.

  Please don’t let me find anything crazy sticking out of me like a tree branch.

  When my hand pulls back with hot sticky fluid covering my fingers, my eyes close with terror. I don’t need to see my hand to know what’s between my fingers. The slick wetness and the scent of copper is enough evidence for me to know that what I feel is blood. I’ve been hit.

  Fuck, fuck!

  My hand moves back to my side and underneath my shirt. I start to probe the wound, hoping that it’s nothing.

  “It’s just a graze, now get up!” I coach myself, gritting through the pain as I rise slowly. I continue in the direction I’m facing, hoping like hell I’m still running away from sudden death and not to it.

  The sound of rotor blades begins to fill the jungle. I look up, hoping to see something through the vast trees above me. I can’t be certain, but it sounds like a UH-D1 helicopter. It could be one of ours, but I don’t get my hopes up. There is a chance that it could be a ride for me, but it also could be reinforcements for them.

  As if on cue, a gust of wind whips past my left ear, and the tree next to me explodes. Chards of wood chips and dust rain all over me.

  Shit, that was close!

  Changing my course slightly by weaving through the thickets of the vast darkness around me, I try to confuse whomever is following me with their night-scope rifle. I swear that if I get out of this jungle alive, I’m personally going to find this fucker and tear his guts out with my bare hands. It’s an extreme thing to think about, I know. I also know that killing my tormentor will not help my situation. Except, I gotta tell ya, it’s making me feel a whole helluva lot better.

  I must find a way out of this jungle and fast. Things are starting to shift, and it’s not in my favor. I can feel myself slowing down. Pain is now starting to expand throughout my back and lower extremities. If something doesn’t give soon, I will not be able to dodge these bullets for long.

  I’m trying to keep my focus on survival, though, channeling my brain from the pain to something else entirely, which leads me to the notion of how stupid I am.

  It’s my fault that I’m running for my life. It’s my fault that I have undoubtedly put a lot of people in danger. People that are probably trying to save me right now. I let my pride get the better of me and I am paying for it in the end.

  I deserve this, I do. The uncertainty of death. The fact that fate is getting its last laugh at my expense. I’m losing the battle. It’s a testament to the dread that is sucking the life out of me. Hope seems like a fleeting apparition that no matter how hard I try to grasp its tail of promise, I can’t seem to hold on. Oh, but if fate shows me a smidgen of mercy and I make it through, I won’t hesitate to make this right. The second, and I mean the second I place my loving eyes on him, I am going to get down on my knees, beg for his forgiveness, and hope he accepts.

  If begging doesn’t work, I’ll have to use sexual favors. I know he can’t resist me when I…

  Suddenly, the breath from my lungs escapes in a rush as my body slams hard into someone. It feels like I ran right into a brick wall.

  Now I’m falling out of control. I’m completely entangled in whoever hit me, and as we roll, I immediately pull out my knife. As we tumble, I maneuver my body in a way so that when we stop, I can straddle the person I hit.

  The thought of getting some revenge causes a leer to blossom on my face. I need this fight like I need to breathe. The second we stop, I desperately grip my prey’s hair tight and I push my knife up against his throat.

  “Whoa! Calm down. It’s me,” grumbles a familiar voice under me.

  As his voice rains over me, along with his masculine undeniable scent, I ease up on the pressure of the knife against his throat and wrap my arms awkwardly around him.

  “Oh, thank God! What took you so long?” I whisper in his ear.

  I can feel him chuckle as he wraps his arms around me. “Sorry I’m late,” he tells me.

  I don’t care about how
late he is. I’m just glad he’s here. I trap his face between my hands and kiss him. I know we don’t have time for this, but I can’t help myself.

  He grips the back of my head and takes my mouth, something he always does, with dominance, fierce desire, and what I hope is love.

  We part and take this time to touch each other’s faces. Before I rise, I remind myself that there is a sniper that’s somewhere perching high above us.

  “Where’s everyone else?” I ask him as I crouch.

  “They’re waiting for us just over the ridge,” he replies and hands me a pair of thermal infrared night-vision goggles.

  My hero then hands me a Colt M4, fully automatic, assault rifle with an advance combat optical gun sight attached to it. I give him my most enduring smile while fighting the urge to kiss him again. The desire I have for him is evident in my eyes.

  He chuckles again. “Later, baby,” he promises and I can’t help but smile.

  His grin quickly subsides and he moves toward me. I follow his gaze to the wet spot on my dark T-shirt.

  “Are you hit?”

  I shake my head. “It’s just a flesh wound, through and through. You can kiss it and make it better once we’re out of this fucking jungle.”

  He grins mischievously. “Baby, I plan to do a whole lot more as soon as we—”

  Just then, to my shock and horror, the man that I can’t live without, the man of my dreams, the love of my life falls forward on top of me just as his forehead explodes all over my terror-filled face.

  Stumbling backwards, with him falling on top of me, I try to scream, but no sound comes out of my mouth. We hit hard, knocking the wind out of me. I can hear the sounds of heavy-footed boots running in our direction, giving me no time to grieve or cry. I desperately try to push his dead body off of me to reach for my fallen rifle, yet I can’t move him. So, I just stop trying. With his blood all over my face, I close my eyes and reach for him. I cry out for him. This has to be a dream. However, as I feel the muzzle of a gun at my forehead, I know it’s not and I scream.

  ******

  Two

  I woke abruptly to the sound of someone screaming and frantically looked around my surroundings. I had my SIG Sauer P226 tight in my trembling hand, the barrel cocked and loaded, safety off, ready and waiting to shoot anything that moved. My eyes darted maniacally around the room. I looked for anyone or anything that wasn’t supposed to be here, waiting for my brain to wake up and recognize where I am. God, it felt as if my heart was going to explode in my chest. It was beating so hard. My entire body shook; sweat-soaked sheets that lay around me were glued to my clammy naked form.

  I used my free hand to push my damp hair away from my face in an effort to collect myself. I took in another haggard breath, realizing where I was and why I woke up ready to kill.

  It was just a dream, Misty. That was you screaming. Calm down, I silently told myself as I stared into the darkened room. This was the fifth time I’d had this dream, and it didn’t get any easier for me. It was a stark and harsh reminder of how messed up my life was right now.

  Once I realized I wasn’t in any immediate danger, I could feel my heartbeat slowing to its normal rate. I placed my gun on the nightstand next to me and flopped back down onto the cold but plush bed.

  I shut my eyes, wondering if I could get back to sleep, but the images of my dream continued to flood my mind. They seemed so real that I almost decided to grab my knives too. They were also underneath my pillow.

  Yeah, I think I’ve slept enough.

  I trashed the offensive sheets off my overheated body and slowly stood. I surveyed the beautifully decorated large country-style bedroom and tried to relax.

  The small two story Victorian-style beach house I had rented for the weekend was just what I needed. It had that homey country feel to it; decorated as if someone used the very popular Country Living Magazine for all of their decorative ideas. This beautiful home was covered with painted furniture that you would probably buy from a flea market or if you like overpriced furniture, Pier One.

  The décor of the house was accented with floral patterns on almost every decorative item you could think of: pillows, blankets, table mats, stuff like that, and soft, muted colors accentuated the walls. All those items, along with the furniture, together gave the house a kind of wear-of-time feel, which added to the character of the house.

  I loved the smell of the Victorian too. It smelled lived-in, if you catch my meaning, with the warm sea air as its own air freshener. There were tons of windows that I kept open at all times to bring in as much natural light as it was humanly possible. Couple that with white sheer curtains hanging loosely as window dressing, and it made the atmosphere perfect in my eyes. This place felt welcoming, and at this point in my disconcerted life, I needed this like I needed to breathe.

  I dragged my tired yet tense body toward the open patio door and started to walk out on the deck in my birthday suit. I thought better of it, though, still thinking of potential threats and having to fight naked. I had no qualms fighting with no clothes on. Hell, I would look good as shit doing it too. The problem was that I wasn’t a small woman in the chest area if you compared the size of my breasts to my body type. Just thinking about my size C-cup boobs flying everywhere was starting to make my chest hurt. So, I took cautionary measures and looked around the room for something to wear. My eyes settled on an oversized T-shirt strewn on the floor by the bed. It would have to do. I moved quickly to grab the shirt off the floor and pulled it over my head.

  Sufficiently covered now, I wandered over to the large patio door, which faced the pitch-black Atlantic, slid the screen door open, and stepped into the night.

  I sighed deeply and welcomed the feel of the cool breeze over my frenzied body. The smell of the salt air tickled my senses, and I wished desperately for a tsunami to come right now and wash away my shit. However, I knew luck like that just wasn’t in the cards for me. Truthfully, I didn’t think anything would help me. The shit storm that my life was stranded in was so strong that nothing was going to save me.

  I took in a long and heavy breath before I dumped my exhausted body into one of the lounge chairs on the patio. Again, I tried to close my eyes and go back to sleep or at least concentrate on enjoying the atmosphere. However, I was failing miserably as the cold vivid images of my nightmare continued to plunge me back into helplessness and fear.

  This is bullshit! I am a marine for fuck’s sake! I’m not afraid of anything.

  And yet, all I could think about was how to distract myself from that horrible dream. Yeah, a distraction was exactly what I needed.

  And I wasn’t looking for your average, run-of-the-mill kind of distraction. I needed a huge distraction. Nine inches of thickness would do quite nicely. My mind instantly went to the one thing that would definitely help make me forget the horrors of my dream: sex.

  Seriously, what better way to take your mind off of heavy shit than to have someone pound into your womanly parts hard and rough, right? And I needed to get my mind right. I needed to put the dream I had back into the nightmare vault and think happy thoughts.

  Ummm… yeah… I needed to fuck!

  And not just any kind of fucking. No. I needed earth-shattering, bed-rocking, bed frame breaking, Trey Songz “Neighbors Knows My Name” kind of fucking. I required raw and gritty. I wanted my head forcefully pushed down into the bed and taken from behind so mercilessly that I had no other choice but to beg and plead to be stroked harder and deeper.

  Now all I needed was someone that could take charge of this pussy and make me scream his name over and over again until my throat got sore. Sadly, there was no one I could call that would measure up to my expectations.

  Okay, that wasn’t entirely accurate. There was someone I could call that would give me everything that I needed and more, but I had messed up. No, I was letting myself off too easy. The better term to use here would be that I had fucked up.

  Man, I fucked up so bad that there was no way
I would come through this unscathed. I had ruined my chances with a man that I’d secretly obsessed over for what seemed like a lifetime. I knew better, I did. You see, I held my hidden desires for this man I was in love with for a very long time. It was better that way. I didn’t believe that anything good would come from him knowing how I felt. It would only ruin things in the end. Besides, it wasn’t like he was free for me to pursue my feelings for him. No, for years he’d been tied to a goody-two-shoes bitch who comes from one of the most prominent families in the army.

  She had her claws in him for years, so I figured my understated crush on him was safe.

  The woman wasn’t stupid. She knew what she had, and there wasn’t a chance in hell she would let him go.

  But she did!

  The stupid silly bitch did, and my stupid ass went in. Oh yeah, I let my guard down for one split second and that was it. He was in. Don’t get me wrong, he’d been a part of my deep, dark desires for a long time. However, that was a controlled, protected environment operated only by me.

  I had a reinforced steel wall around my heart that was taller, thicker, and longer than infinity times two. I knew how to keep men at bay. I knew how to keep everyone at bay.

  It’s a craft of mine. No one gets close to me unless I allow it.

  I was who I was and I didn’t make apologies for it, Hell, that word was nowhere in my vocabulary. Furthermore, I didn’t apologize for how God had made me either. He made me in His perfect image, so damn it, I was perfect.

  Look, I wasn’t a complete heartless bitch. My parents, for instance, meant the world to me. No one came close to being important to me than Ashton and Thomasina. I loved them dearly, and I would blow this world up if anyone hurt them. They understood that I was different from birth, and it was okay and encouraged by them. They poured love all over me and made sure I never forgot how important I was to them. I loved them for that. I was the only child my parents had and I was spoiled rotten.

  Yes, I will admit that only once, though. After all, I’m perfect, remember?