The Unsettled Series Book 2

Book 2: Perfect Obsession

HER

I didn’t expect to find a silver fox in my house when I came back for a weekend dinner. Dad rarely brings his friends to the house when I’m around, citing that he wants to protect his daughter from wandering eyes, but he should have known that it was me that was going to be a problem because the moment I stepped inside—my jaw dropped.

He’s gorgeous. Fucking businessman that walked out of a GQ magazine. A thin beard lining his shapely jaw and piercing gray eyes that seem to look right through me. I want to believe that he’s just as captivated by my beauty as I am by him, but I’d never be so lucky. I mutter a hello as I place my purse by the door and escape to the hallway bathroom.

I can’t breathe. There’s no fucking way I’m going to survive an afternoon in this house with that man.

I look up in the mirror, and he’s standing there, staring at me through our reflection. My heart stops and I hold my breath, unsure of what he’s about to do, but that little smirk playing on his lips has my fingers tightening on the edge of the sink.

He approaches slowly, keeping eye contact until he’s directly behind me. His cologne fills my nose, the scent of dewy pine and cinnamon, threatening to make me melt into his chest. “Your mother didn’t describe you adequately, sweetheart.”

I whimper at the deep tone of his voice. It’s like molasses and darkness wrapped up into a demon. A hand reaches around and grabs my chin, twisting it until we’re finally looking at each other.

His eyes are intense, his body firm against my side as his fingers pinch into my flesh. He’s waiting for a reaction, but I can’t seem to find my voice, and when I do, I hate the words that come out of my mouth.

“Well, Dad didn’t tell me that you’d be here.”

He raises an eyebrow, chuckling, the sound vibrating through me, straight to my pussy. I clamp my thighs together, trying not to focus on that. I can’t be turned on by one of my father’s friends. It’s not good for my health, and it can’t end well. Nothing about this is okay, not to mention that my parents are down the hall.

“You make it sound like if you knew I’d be here, you’d make sure you weren’t.”

“That’s not what I said,” I say hastily, and then realize I’ve fallen right into his trap.

“You’re a riot, sweetheart. A beautiful, forbidden flower that makes me want to break a few rules.”

I hold my breath, wondering what he’s going to do, his gaze constantly dipping to my lips. “What rules?” I ask.

I have no business entertaining this, but I’m intrigued, and fuck, his hand on my chin is giving me fantasies I’m not supposed to think about. His other slips around to grip my waist, and embarrassingly, I arch forward. He seems to enjoy that movement, tightening his hold on me until my mouth opens in a small O.

“The ones where your father refuses to bring us around because he thinks we might corrupt you.”

“Oh.” God, why can’t I say anything else? I’m held firm in his hands, and I don’t want to move. His touch is melting my rational thought.

He chuckles again, and instead of irritating me, I found myself wanting to hear that same, deep, earthy sound but in a very different scenario. “You see, though, I don’t think your father had it right. I think he doesn’t want us around you because you’re a sweet, simple temptation. It’s impossible to not want more than I’m allowed to have. The innocence in your gaze is but a mask for what you truly want, isn’t it?”

The silver fox has me right where he wants me. I don’t know what to say, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he lowers his head, lips grazing over mine. I chase his touch, but his grip on my waist keeps me from moving. “What—”

“I’m not strong enough to resist you, sweetheart, but fuck if our first time is going to be when your parents are in the kitchen.”

I shudder, a guttural, undignified sound tearing from my throat. His thumb begins running along my bottom lip again, and I can’t tear my gaze away from his.

“But mark my words, I will have you. If you let me in, sweetheart, I will have you.”

It sounds like a threat, but I’m not scared of him. I actually miss his presence when he releases me and returns to the kitchen, his melodic voice carrying down the hallway.

I lean against the counter, trying to bring myself back to reality, but I can’t help the siren call to slide my fingers beneath my skirt and drag them across the lace of my panties.

I’m fucking soaked.

He barely touched me, and I’m aching for more. Images of him taking me apart, slowly, filling me, and making me scream his name filter into my head.

He said if I let him in, that he’s going to have me.

Well, I’m about to tell him that my door’s wide open. Fuck my dad’s rules.