The Maddest Obsession by Danielle Lori

I’D MADE A MISCALCULATION.

I couldn’t say it happened often, but the mistake was glaringly obvious in the lotions, hair products, and perfumes that were scattered across the bathroom counter. It looked like a beauty salon threw up in here.

I’d thought I could keep her separate, in a box of her own, all neat and tidy like the rest of my things. She’d already occupied my mind, been so deep beneath my skin, but, fuck, now she was everywhere else, too. My kitchen, my bathroom, my bed.

Surprisingly, all the shit she left lying around didn’t bother me like I’d always thought it would. Occasionally, it made the back of my neck itch—like how she left the toothpaste cap open every time she used it—though, I found it more bothersome when she wasn’t around. So bothersome I was fucking apologizing to her to make her come back. Things had gotten ridiculously out of hand.

I gripped the edge of the sink. I was in this deep, and a cold sweat drifted down my back at the thought of how it would end. It would never be over for me—I’d known that going in—and the only peace I’d found was believing I could make her stay with me whether she liked it or not. But now, a feeling in my chest grew heavy every time I looked at her. I didn’t believe I could bear to see her unhappy. And that complicated things.

My gaze met Gianna’s in the mirror as she showed up in the doorway. She wore one of my long-sleeve t-shirts, and the collar was slipping off her shoulder.

“You just missed the best part,” she pouted.

I let out a dry breath. “I bet.”

We really needed to find a happy medium on movies.

She wrapped her arms around my waist from behind, her touch sending a small shudder through my spine.

“Is this what you do when you go to the bathroom? Stare at your handsome face in the mirror?”

I’d needed to get away for a minute. Couldn’t think with her near—her smell, her smile, the feel of her hands on me. It made my head fuzzy and my throat tight. It made me feel like someone was on the cusp of reorganizing every damn thing in my apartment.

“I was thinking,” I told her.

“About?”

How to keep you pacified without letting you into my past.

How to make sure you always look at me like this and not with disgust.

“You.”

“Aw, you come to the bathroom to think about me? Why, Officer, I feel honored.” Her hand drifted down my stomach and over my dick. She frowned. “It must not have been that exciting of a scenario.”

A corner of my lips lifted. I turned around, cupped her face, and ran a thumb across her cheek. “I’m always thinking about you, malyshka.”

Her lips parted, a blush rising to her cheeks. She rose to her tiptoes, and breathed against my lips, “I really like you.”

Satisfaction ran hot through my blood, even though I wanted more than that. I wanted everything she had to give and more. I’d take it slowly, I’d make her love me, and maybe then, she wouldn’t leave me when she realized I couldn’t give her everything of me she wanted.

She blinked. “Aren’t you going to say it, too?”

I chuckled. What I felt was so far past that it was laughable. I would have told her right then, but she wasn’t ready.

“I really like you, too,” I said, then leaned in to nip her bottom lip.

She sighed in my mouth.

That was the only scenario I needed.

I picked her up and carried her to bed.

“You fucking Gianna?” Ace gave me a hard look. “I don’t like it. Makes men think they can sample our women.”

I sat back in his office chair. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but weren’t you living with your wife before marriage?”

He ran a thumb across his jaw. “I had that under wraps. You’ve been parading Gianna around like she’s your goddamn mistress.”

“Haven’t heard that term since eighteen-ninety,” I said dryly. “Someday, you Italians are going to have to get with the times.”

“Marry her, Allister, and we won’t have a problem.”

If only it was that easy.

My jaw tightened. “She’s not ready.”

“Tough shit. If I’d asked my wife to marry me, she would have said no. So, guess what? I didn’t fucking ask her.”

I couldn’t force Gianna to marry me. I wanted—needed—to be different than the other men in her life. She liked me. I knew I couldn’t handle seeing the betrayal in her eyes now, not after she’d told me that and how much better it had felt than hearing she hated me.

“I could just as easily find someone else for her,” he baited.

“Go ahead.” My voice was dark. “Might save us both some time if you line her prospects up in a row right now.”

“Jesus,” Nico muttered. “Fine. Then, think of it this way—this relationship of yours makes Gianna look like a throwaway. Good enough to fuck, but not good enough to marry.”

I clenched my teeth.

“I’m not saying it.” He rocked back in his chair. “Just the way it looks, Allister.”

I got to my feet, finished with this conversation.

“Good luck,” he said.

“Fuck you.”

His chuckle followed me out the door.