Rule's Obsession

By: Lynda Chance


The fantasy of fucking her screwed with him every time he came in here, and it continued to screw with him every time he left. In his brain, he'd already fucked her every way possible and then some. He'd fucked her standing up, he'd fucked her on all fours, he'd fucked her in his office while restraining her to his desk.

He gritted his teeth and swallowed hard, trying to dispel the image, but he couldn't. He'd had bad, bad thoughts about this girl. Never, ever before in his fucking life had he had thoughts like he'd had about her.

Usually when he thought about fucking, it was only about fucking. It was about relief. But not with this girl. He wanted to restrain her. He wanted control.

He took a deep breath to steady his nerves and let his gaze run up and down her length, almost against his will. He tried to focus on the reality of the situation and attempted to push the fantasies from his brain. But the reality kept intruding; he wanted to fuck her more every time he saw her. And his analytical brain knew the reason why. It was because she was so wrong for him.

She was exactly the opposite of the kind of woman he usually went for. The exact opposite of the kind of woman he needed to eventually marry. One who would take her place by his side and give his home life the type of conservative grounding that he needed, staying in the background while he expanded the family business. Whether he liked to or not, he was forced to entertain on numerous occasions, and those times would only increase the larger and more varied the Rule Corporation became.

He knew what he needed; he needed someone perfectly coiffed, someone who dressed conservatively, someone highly educated who could entertain his guests when the time came. But not the woman his mother had been hinting at lately. Never her. He at least needed to be attracted to the woman he'd eventually marry, and Courtney Powell didn't even make his cock twitch, no matter how sweetly pretty she was. She was nice enough, pleasant even. But he'd known her since she was a small child, and the close relationship their respective mothers had shared had left him with an almost familial feeling toward her.

Although the woman his mother kept pushing at him would never do, he realized that he did need someone from his world, not someone like the gothic witch across the room who wore spiked cuffs on her wrists, chains that hung from her belt, and a skirt so short her ass almost showed. He needed someone polished, not someone who wore black eye shadow and purple lipstick. He needed someone refined, not someone who looked as if she chanted to the dark lord of the underworld and wanted nothing more from him than to drink his blood.

No, the girl he couldn't drag his eyes away from was none of the things he needed in his future, so she might as well be off-limits to him. He ran his hooded gaze up and down her body again in almost painful regret. He needed a wife and she was so fucking unsuitable.

But so perfect for the fucking he wanted to give her.



****

Angie turned away from delivering the color she had mixed for Rita and practically slammed into a clearly panicked Janice. The woman's face was pale and she held her cell phone clutched to her chest. "I've got to go. Like right now."

A sliver of immediate concern landed in Angie's stomach. "What's wrong?"

"The school called. Bethany's running a high fever and throwing up."

"Oh, poor baby. Okay, no problem; I've got you covered."

"I'll run go get her and then I'll call and cancel my last two appointments from home, but can you take care of him?" Janice's eyes grew even wider as she tipped her head in the direction of the man who Angie had begun thinking of as Damian, the Devil Incarnate.

Her heart skipped a beat as she focused on him. Her stomach tripped up with butterflies, but she pasted a look of bravado on her face that she was far from feeling, so that her friend would be reassured. "Sure. I'll take care of him. You go on. Take care of Bethany."

"Thanks. I've already washed his hair. I'm going to grab my stuff and hit the road, okay?"

"Yep, no problem," Angie answered as she reached out and gave Janice a quick hug, feeling the tension in the other woman's frame. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Janice shook her head and Angie was shocked to see tears in her friend's eyes. The other girl looked back at Angie as if making a huge confession. "I'm sinking financially. My credit cards are so close to maxed that it's not funny. When Danny walked out on us, he took everything and left my credit in shambles. Just coming up with the co-pay for the doctor is stressing me so much that I feel sick."

"Do you have enough?" Angie asked with concern.

Her friend blew out a breath. "Just barely."

"What about the prescriptions? Do you need some help with those?" she asked.

"No, I think I've got it covered."

Angie felt a shot of anger at the absentee father. Danny had been a dick galore and that wasn't anything new. But Janice had hidden her financial problems so well that Angie hadn't had a single clue. "Try not to worry, okay? Focus on getting Bethany well and then we'll think of something. I've got some savings, I can help you out."

"I can't take your money, Angie."

"We'll see. I know we can think of something. At the very least I'm damn good at squeezing a dime out of a nickel." The two women hugged again, and after they parted, Angie went to the back room and slowly counted to ten as she took a few stabilizing breaths before going back out to face what she knew she must. Looking at herself in the mirror, she inhaled deeply and tried to calm her shaking hands before turning toward the door with determination.