The Maddest Obsession (Made, #2)

by Danielle Lori

Just as I was about to pass the men’s room, the door opened, and I came face-to-face with Allister. Oddly, my heart stalled, stealing some oxygen from my lungs. “Hello, Officer.” He didn’t say a word as his gaze bit through my skin.

I tried to pass him, but he stepped in front of me, blocking my path. It’d been a long time since we’d played any game, and anticipation buzzed in my veins. “What are you doing with Knox?” His voice was low and smooth, and I could feel it in my toes. I frowned. “Who’s Knox?” “The man you’ve been flirting with for the last fifteen minutes,” he snapped.

My smile faltered as he took a sudden step forward, forcing my back to hit the wall. A breath of air escaped me. His arms came up on either side of me, caging me in. He was so close my entire body hummed beneath the surface. “I’m sure the Bureau doesn’t approve of this kind of behavior,” I breathed.

He was distracted, his gaze beside my head, where a lock of my hair brushed his hand. He pulled it through his fingers, and the small amount of pressure on my scalp tightened between my legs.

“I’ll leave with him if I want,” I finally managed. “Try it.” “You don’t get to tell me what to do.” “I just did.”

“You heard me, Gianna.” I’d heard him, all right. Didn’t mean I’d listen.

I strode up to Charming, grabbed his tie, and gave him a tug toward the door. He smirked and followed me. I turned my head in Allister’s direction. The brunette was still whispering something into his ear and his hand was still on her hip. But his gaze was on me.

A line of blow was like a glass of champagne in my world. Unless we were at a family dinner—then you didn’t even know what the stuff was. But I couldn’t stop an eyeroll. He’d have known what my name was if he was familiar with my family.

His eyes narrowed, but I wasn’t too worried. If he touched me, he’d be found skinned alive in an alleyway by six a.m. tomorrow. And he knew it.

My gaze caught on someone walking down the hall through the crack of the door. Black suit. Broad shoulders. Straight lines. My heart cooled before icing over. His gaze was lowered as his hands twisted a silencer onto the barrel of a gun. My throat tightened, and panic bit at my veins. He looked up. His eyes were cold enough to give me frostbite. “No,” I breathed. But it was too late.

He pushed the door open, and his lazy, heartless gaze found Charming. A muffled pop hit my ears. Blood splattered across the counter and cupboards.

I looked at the door to see a stare of dark indifference as Allister twisted the silencer off and put it in his pocket. His apathy filled me with an anger so deep I saw red. “Figlio di puttana!” I spat. You son of a bitch.

Lmaooooooo

He laughed. “He’s his own man. It took my father a long time to convince him to work with us, and if you’ve fucked it up I’m gonna strangle the shit out of you.” Oh. No wonder Allister always looked at me like I was simple-minded when I’d talk to him

His eyes dropped, almost unwillingly, to coast the length of my bare legs, from the frayed hem of my shorts to my sparkly-painted toes. His attention came back up and, like the glide of a drop of sweat down my back, it brushed the diamond piercing in my navel, over my breasts and my throat, before reaching my eyes.

“I warned you, Gianna . . .” It was soft and gentle but underlined with the slightest clench of his teeth. I knew he meant the warning he’d given me about being alone with him. “You don’t scare me,” I breathed.

He pressed my wrists against the door on either side of me and slowly slid them above my head. I panted, a languid sensation pulling on my muscles. His grip was like fire, though his presence was intimidating and cold to the touch. A shiver rolled through me as his lips pressed against my ear. “You never were very smart.”

Like the reflection in a neurotic person’s eyes. It was madness. It was obsession.

A tremble rocked me as he pressed his face into my neck. Inhaled. And then made a low sound of satisfaction in the back of his throat. The deep, rough noise thrummed between my legs, and instinctively, I tilted my head to bare more of my neck. My ponytail skimmed across my bare shoulder as it fell to the other side. His grip on my wrists tightened, and my eyes grew half-lidded from the pressure.

So, this was what it felt like to be touched by him...

He held my wrists with one hand as the other slid down to my throat. Stepping closer, he pressed his front to mine. Unt...

I wasn’t like any of the women I’d seen him with. He preferred classy, composed, and docile. I was the opposite. He wanted me, and he hated it. I was his own little game. If he touched me, he’d lose. I suddenly knew, this was a game I wanted to play with everything in me.

leaned back on my hands. “Such a secretive man,” I mused. “Don’t you know, sharing is caring?” “If that’s your new motto, then you’ll tell me if you’ve let that prick Vincent touch you.”

I suddenly wanted to know how this man fucked—if his OCD tendencies came to the bedroom, or if it made him even dirtier.

I stepped on each of his shoes and then rose to my tiptoes. With a shot of vodka on my tongue, my lips hovered close to his. Close enough to kiss. Close enough to bite and lick. My breasts brushed his chest and heat shot straight to my core. When his lips parted, I let the liquor trickle from my mouth to his. Pure lust erupted inside me so violently I grew dizzy.

Sliding a hand up his neck and grabbing a fistful of hair, I pushed the rest of the liquid into his mouth with my tongue.

Butterflies on fire fluttered through my veins as his tongue slid across mine. With a rough sound from deep in his chest, he sucked the alcohol from it. And then he bit my lip hard enough I yelped and fell back a step.

“You’re playing with fire, sweetheart.” His voice was black velvet set out to freeze. I secretly loved it when he called me sweetheart. It was rare, but every time he did, there was this rough lilt to it I couldn’t place. And it always rolled down my spine in the same way: electric.

My mind was spinning, and I blurted the first thing that came to mind. “You killed Charming.” He didn’t blink at the nickname. “He’s not the first.” “And won’t be the last?” I mused. “What about me, Officer? Would you kill me?” I held my breath as he stepped forward, lightly grasping my throat. “It would make my life a lot easier,”

My eyes must have conveyed my thoughts, because his gaze darkened. “I’m not one of your admirers. I’m not going to hold my dick and pine over you, just waiting for the day you might choose me. If I fuck you, Gianna, nobody else ever will.” My stomach dropped, and I almost choked on my next breath. “If you don’t get your ass out of my apartment while you still can”—his voice drifted to a dark rasp—“there’s no going back from this.”

He would tie himself to a relationship with me just because we’d had sex? Why? I was sure he didn’t apply the same stipulations to his other women, or surely, they’d all agree animatedly.

A piece of glass cut into my foot, and I winced but quietly made my way to the door. “This has been riveting, but, honestly, it’s a little intense for a first date. I’m going to have to be more particular about who I swipe right on from now on.” His narrowed gaze fell to my feet. “You’re bleeding.”

“Put me down, Allister. I don’t sleep with feds.” “If I decided I wanted you, sleep is not the word I would use.”

Ahhhhhh

“Why don’t you want me?” I asked. “Is it because your good looks would pale beside mine?” His eyes were lazy and unamused as he reached behind me and opened a cabinet.

He lifted my foot and began to gently clean the cut himself. I swallowed, stunned quiet. I couldn’t remember the last time anyone had ever done something like this for me. Not since Mamma. How could a man be so cold, and yet so warm all at once? My heart tripped over its next beat.

With a shaky pulse, I slipped my shirt off and dropped it next to his feet. He went so still even the air quieted, but he took his time putting the Band-Aid on before he let himself look up. Bottomless. Mesmerizing. And hotter than fire. I unclipped my bra while he watched, letting it drop to the floor.

He circled a thumb over the button of my shorts, and my nipples tightened. “Who am I kissing?” My heart was racing so fast I couldn’t catch my breath. He popped the button through the hole.

I leaned back on my hands to lift my hips as he pulled my shorts and thong down my legs. He threw them to the side and focused his gaze between my spread thighs. His eyes darkened, and he ran a hand across his mouth.

I gasped as he pulled my head back by my hair, pressed his lips to my neck, and made a wild, rough sound of anger, like he’d just been forced to surrender a hard-fought fight. “Play with fire, sweetheart,” he rasped, “you’re gonna get burned.”

“Should have known you would be this perfect,” he murmured.

“Drawing board,” he corrected, before kissing and lightly sucking on my inner thigh. “Yeah, that—” I moaned, digging my fingers into the sheets as the wet heat of his tongue swept between my legs. “Oh, God . . .”

He groaned low in his throat, and then he flipped me onto my back, his body covering mine, his hard-on settling between my legs. Placing a hand on either side of me, he leaned in and nipped my breast before sucking the nipple deep.

I grabbed his biceps, only able to get my hands around ...

I stilled in anticipation when he lifted his head because I thought he was going to kiss me, but he only pressed his mouth to my ear. “I’ll let you know when I start taking orders from little Italian girls.”

ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh

He dropped back between my legs, not hesitating before dipping his head and licking me from entrance to clit. The growl of satisfaction that escaped him vibrated against me, and I already fought the imminent orgasm. He ran a rough hand down my leg, pulling my thigh over his shoulder. It was almost tender, the soft sweep of his palm against my skin, and a beat skipped in my chest.

I ran my fingers through his hair, but he shook my hand off, so I grabbed two fistfuls of the comforter instead, while spewing unintelligible English and Italian as he pushed his tongue inside me.

His narrowed gaze found mine. “You take what I give you.” I glared, barely biting back the retort on my tongue. “Go ahead and say it,” he warned. I did say it, because one, he’d goaded it from me, and two, I was a glutton for punishment. “You’re an asshole.”

AHHHHHHHHHHHH

“Anything else?” Defiance ignited inside me, but I bit my tongue and shook my head. “Good,” he murmured, his gaze lazy, before sucking at my clit.

Sparks burned hotter, and then, suddenly, the pressure exploded. I came so hard my ears rang, pulling all sounds underwater. I closed my eyes and struggled to catch my breath.

Silence swept into the room. This was over. Disappointment . . . and something heavier flooded me. But then he dropped to his haunches in front of me, ran a hand across my cheek, and kissed me. Shock and warmth erupted in my chest. I moaned, wrapped my arms around his shoulders, and climbed onto him until I sat on his thighs. He tasted so good, so addictive.

“Allister,” I begged. “I just had my tongue inside you,” he said, annoyed. “You can start calling me by my first name.” I opened my mouth. Closed it. His eyes darkened as he took in my expression. “You forgot my name.”

AHHHHHHHHHHHH