Page 10 of Twisted Obsession

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Regina

Was everything with Ansel going to be so intense? There was one thing I was certain of. I wasn’t going to offer him money again.

My body and my mind refused to agree on the matter of becoming his sub. My body was anxious to experience something new and saying yes please, as my mind screamed hell no!

In the moments when Ansel and I were in the same room, self-consciousness took over because his eyes were always on me, assessing me, making me feel exposed. As a way to deal with my nervous tension, I talked, babbling on and on about nothing and everything.

Ansel would let me talk nonstop as he silently watched my every move and gesture.

When he’d finally had enough of my chatter, he’d cut into my words by saying whatever it was that had been brewing on his mind.

Thinking about Ansel and his limitless complexities made me tired. Although I’d had time to sleep on it, there wasn’t enough time in a day to think about Ansel’s proposal of me becoming his next, or perhaps one of his subs.

A glance at my bedside clock showed that I’d let time get away from me and it was time for us to make the move to his penthouse. I owned nothing more than the clothes on my back, a few personal items, and the clothes I’d stuffed into my bag before escaping my family. Therefore, it only took me minutes to pack.

When I stepped into the living room, my gaze was cast over Ansel’s broad shoulders, expecting movers. He stood waiting in jeans and a long-sleeved, tan fitted T-shirt that outlined his body deliciously.

Observing, it had just occurred to me that he favored wearing long-sleeved shirts. The times he wore short-sleeves, I’d paused at the stunning sight of his tattooed right arm. From what I’d glimpsed, his tattoos were mostly symbols that I didn’t know the meaning of.

A thick mass of lust was forced down my throat as I diverted my gaze that had become heavy with explicit thoughts. Ansel carried my bag, and I followed him into the garage before taking a final gander at the interior of the house.

A big, black Dually truck seemed out of place among the fleet of luxury vehicles Ansel possessed, which included a white Maserati Quattroporte, a grey Range Rover Sport, and three motorcycles.

He led me to an Audi R8V10, the smallest of his cars, the color Evil Black. I wasn’t a car enthusiast, but I knew it was a two-hundred-thousand-dollar car.

He opened my door and assisted me in before he walked around to his side. He flipped his seat and placed my bag in the compact back area of the car before he climbed in.

The ride to his penthouse started in silence, but I sensed those beautiful green eyes connecting with me more than they were with the road. Since we’d been left alone, my nervousness around him had started to get the best of me. Pretending to find interest outside the window wasn’t working. When his presence started to suffocate me, I started talking.

“August told me that his mother and yours were twins. When you two are together, your features are so similar,” I stated.

“Our mothers were twins who married our fathers, who were brothers. So, we’re double kin.”

This I didn’t know. “So, that explains why you guys have similar mannerisms too.”

His hand waved back and forth in the negative.

“I’ve gotten used to people saying we look alike, but there is no way I act like Aaron too.”

After chuckling at his protest, I yammered on and on about their similarities, from the overwhelming intensity they possessed, to the bad-boy attitudes they exhibited, and even down to the same left-eye twitch. Ansel didn’t like me pointing out the fact that they had twin creases that gathered in their foreheads when they were angry either.

After living in openness on my family’s ranch in Texas, the lively atmosphere surrounding the city we approached drew me in. Tall buildings, streets teeming with smiling shoppers, couples holding hands, and bumper-to-bumper traffic captivated my senses. It reminded me of my life in New York before my family had forced me to live in Texas.

When the car slowed and turned into the tight space that led into the parking garage of The Place, I bit the corner of my cheek to keep my jaw from dropping. This was the crème de la crème of buildings to live in, in San Diego. The Place appeared more exquisite in person than I’d seen it in magazines.

Ansel had been right about the level of security that guarded the tall building as well. I’d spotted a few guards roving around the building and had the sense that more men were in covert areas. The ones I’d spotted wore black and brown uniforms and were armed.

The smile on my face didn’t waver as I soaked in what would become my new surroundings.

The revitalizing brightness of the sun was being chased away by the thick concrete of the walls of the parking structure. We circled our way up to the second floor of the garage. I exited the vehicle when Ansel did. He retrieved my bag and walked around the car to escort me. My pace was a step below jogging as I kept up with his long strides, his fingers warming the small of my back as the elevators grew closer.

Deep, steadying breaths flowed from me, and my body was abuzz from his simple touch. When the bell alerted the elevator’s arrival, he ensured I entered first.

“The elevator we need can be accessed on the first and second floors. There are stairs in the event of a fire, but I’ve had that entry to my floor secured with a ten-digit pin and retinal scan,” Ansel volunteered.

“Yes, we’ll be the only ones on that floor,” he confirmed. He must have noticed my pinched brow as curiosity seeped through my pores.


Tags: Keta Kendric Erotic