Edging Obsession

32

I wake to my parents discussing something in the other room. As I approach, they stop and ask how I’m doing. My mother prepares a tea for me, and my dad rubs my arm. This whole ordeal, everything, coming here and finding out about Miles, has aged them. I’m worried this might trigger another heart attack for my dad. All they want is to travel, and then my sickness threw them a curveball. They’re torn between staying and leaving. I don’t even have to ask them. If it wasn’t for Anja, we’d probably be on a plane by now. My parents are too wonderful to flee and sever a relationship they’re trying to establish with Anja.

My mother hands me my tea, and I ask, “What have you two been talking about?”

The corners of Mom’s mouth turn downward. Her eyebrows pinch together, crinkling the skin between them, and she sighs.

“We want to book a flight home, yet we can’t leave Anja. She wouldn’t understand, nor do we want to tell her about who Miles is exactly.”

I grip the mug, staring into the tea. “I need to talk to Miles.”

In unison, my parents say, “Absolutely not!”

My eyebrow cocks up as I regard them. “You two know I love you, right?” They nod. “For my entire life, the only people I’ve ever loved were you.” I pause and add, “Until now.” My parents’ mouths fall open. “I know what you’re thinking. I’ve lost my mind, and maybe in a way I have.”

Dad stops me. “Don’t talk like that. You haven’t lost your mind. There are thousands of people who suffer from mental illness.”

“True.” Pursing my lips, I take in a shaky inhale and let it out. “I love Miles.” My eyes meet theirs. “He’s done so much for me.”

Mom lets out a sarcastic laugh. “That he has.”

“I know this all sounds crazy. But the least I can do is talk to him. I’ve known Miles is a criminal, and I had accepted it. Yes, this abduction has rattled me, but I can’t pick up and leave without a word. And neither can either of you. There’s Anja and Elisabeth to think about.”

“Then we’ll find a hotel to stay in.”

“Please, please hear me out.” My mom falls back in her chair and folds her arms in frustration. “After my tea, I’m walking to Miles’ house for a talk. I understand where you both stand, which I’ll definitely keep in mind as Miles and I discuss this last incident.” I reach for my dad’s hand, and he takes mine. “Don’t do anything until I return, and then we can sort things out together, okay? If anything, this is probably the safest place for us instead of a hotel.”

My parents agree.

It’s late afternoon and the sun had set an hour ago. Bundled up, I trudge up the road toward Miles’ house. I didn’t call to let him know I was coming, so I’m not sure if he’s even home. My hand balls into a fist about to knock on the door when it opens before I get the chance. Miles’ hand rests against the door, shirtless and bare foot in only a pair of sports pants. His red-rimmed eyes tell me he’s upset over the abduction and the possibility of losing me, which makes it difficult to breathe. His hard demeanor rarely allows for a glimpse at his softer side, so to see him choked up squeezes my heart. I hate seeing him upset, especially since I’ve already accepted what he does for a living.

Miles doesn’t say anything, only widens the door for me to enter and walks toward the living room. A fire burns, soft music plays in the background, and a decanter and a glass rest on the table. He grabs another glass, plops down in front of the decanter to fill both glasses, nudging one of them in my direction. I’m not much of a drinker, but today seems as good as any to suck one down. We sip our drinks, staring into the fire, words escaping both of us. The grandfather clock’s pendulum ticks in time with the music.

My head turns toward Miles, watching him gaze into the fire. He’s had a hard life. His mother fled, and his father only cared about business. Miles didn’t get to carve out his own destiny. It was dictated to him until he couldn’t bear the guilt regarding the loss of his wife and unborn child. Unlike me, who had loving parents, Miles relied on his older brother, Johann. He’s really all the family Miles has, except for me.

And he’s alarmingly bewitching. My savior and my devil. He’s never spoken about what I did to my boss or my attempted suicide since I was in the hospital. Miles brought me health and happiness…also sadness, betrayal, and danger. The way he plays my body to our liking. Cuddles me when I’m depressed. Tells me he loves me. Again, the air thins, struggling to take in a huge breath.

Even though staying with him is a risk, I can’t imagine a life separate from him. He’s taught me to submit; to forget my troubles, which weakens my highs and lows. He pampers me. Anything I’ve asked for he’s given me. Do I really want to give it up? Give him up?

I’ve never met anyone quite like Miles, and I’m not talking about him being a rockstar or crime lord. He’s worldly, daring, and sexually uninhibited. The men I’ve dated in the past were vanilla ice cream, topped with a cherry. Nice and safe. Miles’ dominance pushes my limits. He doesn’t allow me to play it safe. The only safety he wants is for me to find in his arms. I love him.

I clear my throat and say, “My parents want to leave the premises. I’ve talked them out of it for now. They’ve recently met Anja, so leaving Germany isn’t an option.”

Only his head turns to me, and he asks, “And what do you want, Jules?”

“For everyone to be happy.”

He takes a sip of his drink. “Doesn’t look like that’s in the cards.”

“They’ve done so much for me.”

Miles leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, staring into the fire. “Then it’s settled.”

“You’ve done so much for me, too.”

His attention returns to me. “Choosing between your parents and me isn’t going to end well, so I’ll make it easy for you. I’m no good for you, Jules. Every day you spend with me puts your life in danger. I’ve known it, but being a selfish bastard, I disregarded it. I can’t ignore it anymore. You’re free to go.”

Tears trail down my cheeks. He’s right. My life is at risk. I can take this time to get to know Elisabeth more. Return to the U.S. and find a job. We’ve had our fun. I’m sobbing into my hand. We come from different worlds. It’s important I focus on my mental illness. Why am I trying to convince myself?

I stand, hiccupping, and catch my breath before squeezing out, “Okay.” Miles doesn’t move, fixated on the flames. “Thank you…” My sobs are choking me. With a last inhale, I add, “Thank you for everything.”

I can’t say anymore so I walk toward the door, bawling my eyes out. This is it. Everything we’ve done has led us to this parting moment. When the door starts to open, Miles presses his chest into my back and slams it closed.

His mouth is near my ear, and in a low voice, he begs, “Don’t leave me, Jules. I’m so fucking sorry. Sorry for the secrets and lies. Sorry for what happened. But most of all, I’m sorry for not protecting you better.”

My forehead rests on the door, tears dripping to the floor. I’m so distraught, I can’t even answer him.

“Give me another chance. I’ll never let anything happen to you again. I promise.”

He turns me around, grabs my face, and smashes his lips against mine. His delicious tongue sinks into my mouth, searching for forgiveness. Tearing at my leggings, he has them down to my knees as his hand rubs over my pussy, all the while frantically kissing me. I accept it all. The harshness of his regret pours forth in his actions. Two fingers slip inside me, pumping drastically. My hips roll over his hand and he humps me, brushing my clit and taking my breath away at the same time.

Miles breaks the kiss, rips the leggings off and my underwear, then strips me of the rest of my clothes. His pants drop to the floor, he steps out of them, and grabs my face again. Our mouths squander what little air we have left. We walk, stumble, and fall to the side, rolling toward the table. We battle for the top, flipping one on top, and then the other. His body covers me like a blanket, cock nudging my opening. My legs widen, and he buries himself deep. We’re a heap on the floor, latching onto one another. As he slips his hands underneath, palms pressed to my upper back, he curls his fingers over my shoulders, fucking me hard by yanking me down onto his cock. As if we’re trying to bury our sadness, I meet his thrusts, so the pain and numbness will remain for days. We’re racing. Panting. And we hit the cliff and fall together.

Remaining semi-hard inside me, he rests his face in the crook of my neck, allowing his tears to fall. My fingers lightly brush over his back and through his hair. This is Miles and me. Explosive. Passionate. And absolutely in love with each other.

W e stir from the cold; the fire having burned out long ago. Miles carries me to the bedroom, gets the fireplace going, and gathers us both under the covers. Wide awake in each other’s arms, we drift into our own thoughts as we listen to the crackling logs. His fingers lightly run over my arm, placing the other behind his head. The cover stops at his abs, so I draw circles over his chest.

He snaps the stillness by asking, “Where do we stand, Jules?”

I rest my chin on top of my hand on his chest. “I love you…but we have to work something out. My parents are upset, so if we’re going to stay in a relationship, we’ll need to discuss our future and how it will work for them. They need to feel okay with us, because I love them, too.”

He scratches the overgrown scruff on his face. “Yeah, I figured. What do you have in mind?”

“Which life do you want? Is being a rockstar or staying in the Mafia your lot in life, or is there another avenue you’d like to explore? I think these questions are the focal point of our future.”

The stillness returns as Miles thinks about them, which I’m glad for. It means he’s taking it seriously. Since he’s juggling two lifestyles, he’ll have to choose which one works for him. For us.

“I like being in the band, but touring is exhausting. The recording part is my favorite.” He pauses for a few minutes. “After returning home, I’ve realized how much I miss my brother and Germany. As for the crime life, I’m not completely committed to my family’s growing empire. Johann has run it for the past five years and it was fine with me. Granted, I’ve enjoyed the financial perks, yet I make more than enough money with the band. If there’s something else…” He lets out a heavy breath. “I’m not sure, Jules.” His eyes meet mine. “What’s your take on everything?”

“Well, if you can work something out with the band regarding recording and touring, maybe you can continue for a while. I’d like to see you distance yourself from a life of crime. It only puts us in harm’s way. It would make all of us feel at-ease.”

His head slightly bobs as I talk, and he responds, “I love this house, and I wouldn’t mind spending some time in Germany, near my brother.”

“We can do that as long as there is protection. I can’t live in a world where I’m constantly looking over my shoulder, especially after what they almost did to me. I don’t think I would have ever recovered.”

Miles pulls me on top of him, our fronts flushed against each other, and he kisses my nose. “I’ll talk to my brother.”

My legs fall to the sides, and I sit up as he plunges inside me. I rest my hands on his chest, bouncing my hips up and down his velvety, hot cock. Sex with Miles is an everlasting thing. Our bodies are in sync, movements flowing from one position to the next. He bends his legs, digging his heels into the mattress. In a strong hold, he crushes me into his chest and thrusts upward. His pelvis picks up speed, fucking me hard as I’m squeezed tight in his arms. His grunts, heavy breathing, add to my arousal. I’m moaning and crying from a mixture of the pounding against my cervix, and how great he feels. He grabs me by the hair, pulling my head back to look at me while rutting in fast. Tears cascade down my cheeks and I yelp from the last drive before I come all over his cock, twitching uncontrollably. Sweat slicks our bodies. Miles moans my name when he hits his release.

We’re puffing to catch our breaths, the cool air pebbling my nipples. Miles’ fingers languidly stroke my pussy while he looks out the window. We’re spent.

I place my hand on top of his to stop the motion, and ask, “Are the police involved?”

He sucks in a breath and releases it slowly. “Yes. There was no way around it, except all the deaths were spun as self-defense.”

My head whips toward him. “How were you able to do that?”

“The police department has been receiving hush money from us since my father was alive. There’s no way they’ll shut that shit down. Plus, a couple of them are racists against Turks, so they’re okay with having a couple of them dead.”

“Miles.”

He places his hand on his chest. “Hey, I didn’t say I was racist. I said a few cops are. I shot the fuckers for what they did to you, not for their nationality.” His hand reaches out to my face, brushing some hair from it. “And nothing like that will happen again. I’ll die before it does.”

“How about we keep dying out of the equation?”