The Obsession Continues...
LOVING HER
(An Obsessed Novella)
by Jeanne St. James
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It’s not just a love story,
it’s an obsession...
Noah:
I’ve
loved Bree my whole life. We were each other’s firsts when we were young and inexperienced,
and I totally screwed up. I disappointed her, causing her to cry and run away. But
over the years, I’ve learned, I’ve perfected, and I’ve dreamt of one day
getting another shot with the love of my life.
When
I finally get the chance never in my wildest dreams did I think Bree was like
this. The girl who used to wear yellow sundresses is no longer Bree, she’s Brianna,
my new mistress. I’ll do whatever needed for her forgiveness, even go to my
knees and grovel.
However,
there’s just one thing... I want Bree back, not Brianna. Once I get Bree,
Brianna can do to me what she will.
Bree:
Maybe
Noah doesn’t realize it, but he’s been mine ever since we were teens. I tried
to apologize for disappointing him our first time, but never got the chance.
Now,
when he approaches me at the bar, I can only think about all the things I want
to do to him and with him. I plan to show him the skills I’ve honed over the years.
Little
does he know what’s in store for him because I know his secrets, his desires, his
needs. And I plan on giving it all to him.
However,
just when I think I’m in control, he turns my world upside down.
Note: All books in the
Obsessed series are standalone novellas. It is intended for audiences over 18
years of age since it includes explicit sexual situations, including BDSM.
Chapter One
Noah:
I’ve loved her my
whole life. At least since I can remember, which is all the way back to when
she was in kindergarten and I was in first grade. I’d chase her through the backyard
and around the jungle gym, trying to catch and kiss her.
If I’d succeed, she’d
curl her little fingers into a fist, sock me in the gut, then run and tell her mother.
Yep, I had no
game.
And, apparently, I
didn’t leave an impression. Because now, at thirty, she’s still avoiding me.
Even though she can’t
go very far at the moment since I’m her brother’s Best Man, and she’s the Maid
of Honor.
Let me tell you, I
hate weddings.
I hate them even
more when I’m forced to stand across from her and can’t touch her, drag my
fingers through her long, dark hair and run my lips along her delicate neck.
The only time I can touch her is when I escort her up
the aisle. I’ve done it twice so far. However, she won’t meet my eyes, she feels
stiff on my arm and she’s hardly said two words to me. And now I stand here
while the wedding planner drones on and on about what’s expected of us during
the ceremony tomorrow.
Yawn.
Look, Ms. Wedding
Planner, it’s easy. Put one foot in front of the other, walk (without tripping)
up the center aisle (can’t get lost while staying in between the rows of pews
and aim for the front of the church), then stand to the side (no picking noses,
asses, or adjusting your junk).
Simple.
Oh, and don’t pass
out. Otherwise, the video will go viral across cyberspace.
One more thing… the
rings. Can’t forget to put the rings in my tux pocket.
Got it.
Yawn again.
It isn’t as if I’m
not happy for my buddy, getting married to a great woman (although, not quite
as stunning as his sister) who makes him happy, but I’m not thrilled with being
a part of it. But I have his back. And I’d love to have his sister on her back.
Again. But in
better circumstances.
We lost our
virginity together at seventeen in her parents’ pool shed. I was in love with
her then, too. Her with me? Not so much.
And in those
forty-five seconds of bliss, I fell in love with her even more. I don’t think
she thought it was even close to bliss, though. In fact, she had run out of the
shed crying while pulling down her sweet yellow sundress.
I was devastated,
and that was a major blow to my seventeen-year-old ego.
I’ll admit it, I
had a lot to learn.
However, I had to
learn it elsewhere since she was no longer game. In fact, she avoided me (just
like at this rehearsal).
But I did learn. I
was determined to improve, to not make her cry next time. But, unfortunately,
there never was a next time.
Eventually, Mrs.
Callahan down the street was kind enough to take me under her wing. Teach me
the ins and outs of women. Of pleasure. Of discovering what I wanted and what I
wanted to give in return.
Mrs. Callahan.
Yeah.
She made me call
her that, too. And I did (when I wasn’t calling her Mistress).
I learned.
I perfected.
I dreamt of one
day getting another shot with the love of my life.
Now here we stand,
across from each other. My eyes on her. Her eyes on everything but me.
I want her.
I need her.
Still.
Even after all these
years.
As I stand across
from her, I’m mesmerized by her unforgettable, stunning beauty.
I love her.
But I can’t have
her.
And that fucking blows.
****
Bree:
At dinner, I watch
him over the rim of my wine glass. My eyes narrow as he leans over to say something
quietly into the ear of one of the bridesmaids. The single one with the big
boobs that made sure she snagged the chair next to him. She throws her little
blonde head back and laughs. He smiles in response, his golden-green eyes
sparkling. They have a secret. Apparently a funny one, too.
She can laugh with
him all she wants, but she needs to know... he’s mine.
He’s been mine
ever since we lost our virginity together all those years ago.
Maybe he didn’t
realize it then. He doesn’t realize it now.
Maybe, just maybe,
he needs a lesson.
One different from
what that whore Mrs. Callahan taught him.
Yes, I know all
about Mrs. Callahan and Noah.
And what she did
to my Noah.
Days later I
followed him, trying to catch up with him to apologize for running out crying
after he popped my cherry. I even called out his name, but he didn’t hear me.
Or maybe he was ignoring me. Probably because I disappointed him that day in
the shed and he didn’t want anything to do with me anymore.
But then he went
to her house. I watched (in shock) as
the door opened and he was pulled inside. He had just turned eighteen. Barely
legal. That bitch was like a hundred at the time.
Okay, probably the
same age as we are now. Though, back then, it might as well have been a
hundred.
She opened the
door wearing some sexy almost see-through nightie. One I would have killed to
own (and fill out like her). Her eyes flicked up to me and I froze. She smiled
like a predator at Noah, snagged his arm and dragged him inside. Then she aimed
that smile at me as she shut the door behind him.
I ended up
following him more than once. More than twice.
I’m embarrassed to
admit how often it truly was.
But what he
learned, I did, too. I watched them.
And one day when I
was hidden, I saw it happen.
She had her husband’s
belt. And she whipped him with it while he was on his knees, his head to the
mattress.
I watched him
twitch with every strike. His ass getting redder with every blow. And she
wasn’t gentle. No. She struck him hard, often, but I couldn’t hear if he made a
noise. If he cried out, if he asked her to stop.
Though, it didn’t appear
so.
He could have
escaped, gotten away. He wasn’t tied in any fashion, he wasn’t restrained. He
moved into position willingly with, from what I could see, his eyes showing excitement.
A smile curled that
witch’s lips as she did it.
I got scared while
watching her hit him.
Not for him.
No.
But for me.
Because I realized
what she gave, what he willingly accepted, did something inside of me. It lit a
fire in my belly, caused goosebumps to break out all over my body, tightened my
nipples, made me slick between the thighs.
What Mrs. Callahan
was doing should have disturbed me. It didn’t.
It excited me.
I wanted to switch
places with her.
Now, I not only
wanted Noah, I wanted to do things to him I never expected.
Author Bio:
JEANNE
ST. JAMES is a bestselling erotic romance author who loves an Alpha male (or
two). She was only thirteen when she started writing since it gave her an
escape from teenage angst! Her first paid published piece was an erotic story
in Playgirl magazine. Her first erotic romance novel, Banged Up, was published
in 2009. She is happily owned by farting French bulldogs. She writes M/F, M/M,
and M/M/F mรฉnages. Want to read a sample of her work? Download a sampler book
here: BookHip.com/MTQQKK
To
keep up with her busy release schedule check her website at www.jeannestjames.com or sign up for her newsletter: http://www.jeannestjames.com/newslettersignup
Author Links:
Website: http://www.jeannestjames.com
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/jeannestjames/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/JeanneStJames
Amazon Author Page: http://tinyurl.com/JeanneStJames
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/JeanneStJames
Newsletter: http://www.jeannestjames.com/newslettersignup
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