Perfectly Obsessed

I turn the stereo off and throw open the door. With my hair untamed and piled on top my head, wearing my leggings that have seen better days and an oversized hoodie I do not expect to see Drake braced against the door frame looking at me with a smile that sets me on fire.

  I’m unable to move, paralysed where I stand three steps away from him.

  He’s here.

  He is so close I can smell the light scent of soap and cigarettes on him yet, I still can’t move. I don’t realise I’m not breathing until my lungs begin to burn.

  “How? When?...”

  My mind is racing a mile a minute and every question I want to ask all comes out in one.

  I nearly lose my mind when he steps through the door and throws his duffle bag on the hall floor. He’s here, right here in our home that I have spent months preparing. I remain speechless until he grabs my thighs and lifts me giving me no choice but to wrap my legs around his waist

  As soon as we connect I come alive. Every emotion I have suppressed for over two years sprays over us like a shower and my mouth moves around his neck and up to his cheek as his lips chase my neck and collarbone. Our lips meet each other and the hunger overrides us both.

  “I need to be with you first then you’ve got some talking to do.”

  “I’m ready for you Deveroux, in every way.”

  I knew he would have questions and just because I wanted to keep the answers away from him before, now he is here I will tell him every truth.

  “Where’s the bedroom in this place?” he asks, biting down on my neck.

  I slide down him and lead him through to our new room.

  “This is a new bed, it’s been waiting for you to come home and christen it,” I smile, pulling the hoodie over my head.

  Drake is before me in the blink of an eye.

  “Let me,” he says, huskily.

  He moves closer and unclips my bra. It falls to the floor and Drake follows it dropping to his knees.

  Hooking a finger each side of stomach, he pulls down my leggings and underwear as one and I step out of them eagerly.

  He looks memorised letting his eyes roam every inch of my body. I struggle to get a deep breath when I feel his hand roam from my knee up my thigh and gingerly trace my centre before leaning forward and lightly spreading kisses across my stomach before standing and kissing my mouth.

  “I think you’re overdressed, Drake Deveroux.”

  “I should remedy that, shouldn’t I.”

  His grin is croaked and I feel like crying. Now he is here, I somehow miss him more. I tried to remember every plane of him, but the croaked smile, I forgot.

  A stray tear falls and he notices.

  “What are you crying for?” he whispers, concerned.

  “Nothing,” I try to laugh around the sob, “I’ve just missed you so much.”

  He pulls me against him and holds me tightly.

  “I’m home now, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” He promises.

  He’s in my arms, I can feel his heart beating strongly through his chest. I can smell and feel him but it doesn’t feel enough.

  “Baby, I’m home,” he says, again and I take a deep breath.

  “Then take me to bed, I need you, Drake.”

  “It will be my fucking pleasure.”

  I’m happy and content to lay beside Drake silently, trailing my nails back and forth across his chest. He is happier to start talking.

  “Why are we living here now?”

  “Do you remember when I walked out on one of our visits?”

  He stiffens beside me and makes a non-committal grunt that I take for a yes.

  “After our phone call, I got back to find the building on fire. I called Stan and went to the café while he found out what was going on.”

  I went on to tell him every detail I could remember and he listened without interrupting me.

  “And before you say anything, I made sure Stan wouldn’t tell you. It really wasn’t his fault he didn’t.”

  “Why?”

  I roll my eyes.

  “I didn’t want you worrying about me over nothing…”

  “It was hardly nothing babe, our home was on fucking fire,” he growls.

  I lean up on my elbow and force him to look at me.

  “You told me I was stronger than I thought I was, you were right. I wanted to do this, I didn’t want you worrying from prison knowing you couldn’t do anything. I stayed with Marg for a couple of weeks before this place became available and I’ve spent months getting it ready for you to come home.”

  He jerks his chin and remains quiet. I leave him to process everything I have told him and rest my head in the nook of his arm and chest as he wraps his arm around me.

  Lazy minutes pass and he climbs out of bed. I lose my breath at the sight of him, bold as brass the man walks across the bedroom to the wall surrounding the drawers and wardrobe naked. I will never get enough of him.

  He is looking at the photographs I had framed and asked Stan to hang for me.

  I decide to give him the confidence he gives me and I lose the sheet as I too climb out of bed and stand behind him wrapping my arms around his waist, planting soft kisses on his shoulder blades where one half of an angel’s wing is tattooed.

  “Weren’t these in the fire?” he asks, covering my arms at his front with his.

  “They were, but thankfully I always kept the camera in my bag so I had them printed again,” I tell him, moving my lips across to his other tattooed winged shoulder blade. I can’t get enough of him. I need to be touching him.

  “We look good together,” he chuckles, “I’ve never seen how we look together like this before.”

  “I’ve loved having them around me while I sleep. Now it’s your turn,” I say, sliding around his hard, toned body to face him.

  “Turn?” he genuinely looks dumbfounded as if he could have nothing to possibly explain.

  “Turn to talk. Don’t you think I should have known that you got Stan to follow me about like a lost puppy behind my back?”

  I expected him to look guilty that I found out about it, this gorgeous man before me just shrugged and acted like I was over reacting.

  “I wasn’t here so he was. You’re lucky I didn’t make you move in with Marg till my release. I thought this would be a more comfortable option for you. How long have you known about our deal?” he asks, holding me in his arms and slowly pushing me back towards the bed.

  “Since the fire, that’s how I knew how to keep him quiet. He told me how you’d kill him if I got hurt so I told him I would purposefully put myself in danger if he did.”

  His lips pull up to one side and he almost looks proud. He chuckles softly before pulling me in his arms completely.

  “I shouldn’t pay him for not telling me, whatever you said to him, he should’ve told me,” Drake points out.

  “How much are you paying him?”

  “I told him if he watched you like a sister and you came to no harm I would give him thirty grand when I got out.”

  Thirty grand. Sometimes life passes me by in such a blur I keep forgetting the world I live in now. A world where you pay someone thirty thousand pounds to watch your girlfriend while you are in prison. So much money to give away, I don’t know whether I am insulted or delighted?

  “He deserves it. I came to no harm and he did it for such a long time. Does he get extra for banging my best friend?” I laugh, landing on my back on the bed after being gently coaxed down by Drake.

  “I wasn’t happy when I found out about the two of them, I thought she would distract him from you,” he says, climbing on top of me.

  “It worked out well, I got to see her more when she came to see him.”

  “What’s going on with them now?” he asks, lowering his mouth onto my thigh.

  His warm breath prickling against my skin tickles and almost feels foreign compared to the nothingness of being on my own all these months.

  “She is due up this weekend. I think it’s ser
ious between them.”

  I can’t give any more details because my senses are shot to pieces as Drake assaults my body.

  Part Three

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Drake

  Day turned to night and the night was again turning to day. I lost all motion of time passing reacquainting with Cammie. No longer restrained to strict routines of set meals and lock up time, I rolled by hour to hour doing as I pleased pleasuring mine and Cammie’s bodies.

  Slipping my arm from under a sleeping Cammie beside me as carefully as I can as not to wake her, I slip out of bed and pull open the drawers. She had mentioned she had replaced my old clothes that had burned to nothing in the fire. After opening one set of drawers only finding her clothes, I turn to the second set of drawers and find every draw packed neatly of underwear, socks, jeans, t-shirts and hoodies. I find a pair of joggers in the bottom drawer and slip into them.

  I glance over the photos on the wall again before I quietly go in search for a glass of water. I didn’t see much of the place when I got here and we haven’t left the bedroom much either. Surprising Cam was everything I imagined it would be and finding her flittering around making everything perfect for my homecoming was enough to make me cum in my boxers. I knew it. I knew when I first saw her she was the one for me. I don’t give a flying fuck about love at first sight not being real, you don’t know the person so how can you know and all that shit. I didn’t have to know anything about her, I could feel it when I was near her.

  The flat is a little larger than my old one and the lay out is slightly different. The living area and kitchen are in separate rooms for a start and the bathroom is an en-suite onto the bedroom. Cammie has decorated lightly in neutral tones and heavy drapes on the windows.

  It’s made homely by only how a woman’s touch can add. I find more of our photos in the living room. I didn’t realise how many we took of ourselves that Christmas Eve before everything went to shit. I also didn’t realise Cammie had taken my photo when I was unaware. She must have liked them to put them up and have to look at them day in day out.

  The cream leather two-seater sofa looks like it cost a pretty penny, and facing it on a black glass stand is a state of the art television. It looks similar to my old set up, perhaps she was trying to replace it.

  I make my way through to the kitchen and open the fridge. Fully stocked with everything you could imagine. Fresh orange juice to bottles of beer. Blocks of cheese to packets of chocolate bars. Fresh fruit and salads. There really is everything a guy could dream of after eating complete shite for two and a half years.

  Grabbing the carton of orange juice, I pour myself a glass and the calendar Cammie told me about catches my eye.

  Putting the carton back in the fridge, I take a closer look. Every box indicating each day for the last six months have big crosses in them. With my name written boldly in today’s box, it’s even underlined a bunch of times.

  I marvel in the early morning silence. You would think this time of day would be quiet inside but there’s always a door opening or voices trailing off in the distance.

  A shrill alarm pierces the air and I rush back into the bedroom before it wakes Cammie up but she is already rolling over to turn it off herself.

  “I guess I don’t have to get up now you’re already here,” she smiles, stretching her legs out.

  “I wanted to wake you myself,” I tell her, climbing back on the bed.

  Pulling her back against my chest, I allow myself to finally relax.

  “What time does Marg start work today?” I ask her.

  For a minute I think she has fallen back to sleep but she sighs contently and answers, “She has the day off, she told me she normally cooks for you on your first night out. Why?”

  “I need to get my money, that’s if there is any left?” I chuckle.

  “Of course there is, more than you’d think there is too,” she huffs.

  “You still don’t know when I’m joking do you?”

  “Shut up and kiss me,” she retorts, slipping round in my arms.

  Her hands are always so warm in mine. It is still pretty early and the streets aren’t as busy as they get during the day. I look properly at our surroundings on our walk to Marg’s. I really do live in a shit hole. Tommy’s diamond job comes to mind and I think about telling Cammie about it. I will tell her, that’s for sure, I just don’t know when. I don’t want to ruin our first days together. I opt to tell her after the weekend.

  The walk is quiet and by the time we reach Marg’s front door I have to say something.

  “I’m not going to leave you again.”

  I have told her before many times before but I really need her to know it deep in her soul.

  “I know you’re not,” she smiles, raising her little fist to knock on the door.

  A guy I have never met before opens the door and I raise my eyebrow when I take in what he is wearing. Cammie snickers beside me and the guy has the grace to blush when he’s been caught in a woman’s pink and white robe.

  “You must be Drake, morning Cammie, come on in.”

  Keeping hold of Cammie’s hand, I pull her through after me and pass the balding, middle aged man in what I hope is Marg’s robe, otherwise Marg has picked another wrong one. He is a whole head shorter than me and half my size, if he hurts Marg in any way I will have no problem taking him down.

  The woman who has stood by me all my life is already preparing tonight’s dinner in the kitchen. The strong smell of onions and spices fill the air. I didn’t see it yesterday but in the two and a half years I have been away she has aged considerably. You would never guess by her shining red hair, no, you will never see a grey hair anywhere on her head. Her face though tells another story. The lines that were there the last time I saw her are deeper and more pronounced and she is looking more tired than ever.

  The knife hits the chopping board and she roughly wipes her hand on her apron. She scurries across the kitchen and I barely have time to catch her in my arms. She holds my face in both hands and I see the tears pooling in her eyes.

  “It’s damn good to see you out,” she croons.

  I squeeze her tight and appreciate her unwavering loyalty, even before my mother passed away she was around for me. She always will be.

  “It’s good to see you too,” I chuckle and kiss the top of her head.

  Cammie makes herself comfortable at the table while William comes into the kitchen now fully dressed.

  “Can I have a word?” I ask, nodding my head in the direction of the hallway.

  She trails behind me until we are at the furthest point from the kitchen, mainly so William can’t hear. It doesn’t mean anything to me that Marg and Cammie like him, I don’t know shit about him and I certainly don’t trust him with knowing my business.

  “She’s told me about the fire, is there anything else I should know about?” I ask first.

  “Absolutely nothing. Stan did good keeping her from harm.”

  “And my money? Has William been privy to my stash?”

  She shakes her head adamantly, “He knows nothing about it. I take it that’s why you’re here so early?”

  “Yeah, I have some shit to take care off today.”

  She nods in understanding and says, “The holdall is in the cupboard next to the tub.”

  She goes back into the kitchen and returns to chopping the onions starting up a conversation with William, distracting him from coming upstairs.

  Taking the stairs two at a time I bound into the bathroom and lock the door behind me.

  Detaching the bath panel is second nature to me, I have been hiding money here since I was sixteen years old. Sliding the crowbar from under the tub, I jimmy the floorboard until it pops open. Sliding my hand into the floor, I pull out the rolled up notes until the space is empty.

  I know Cammie didn’t like spending it but I expected there to be much less than what is here. I count seventy-five grand as I pack it into the holdall bag. I’m figh
ting a battle as to whether I am pissed off that she didn’t spend more and live a better life or happy that she didn’t. She continues to prove her loyalty to me, not that she knows she is doing it. I need no further proof that she is with me for me, not what I can give her or do for her.

  I zip the bag closed and replace the floorboard and put the bath panel back in place. Downstairs, Marg is talking away as I drag a chair around the table and sit next to Cam, sliding the bag under her chair away from William’s eyes.

  “It’s good to finally be able to meet the man I hear so much about. The girls are constantly talking about you,” he tells me.

  “I’d like to tell you it’s all lies but it’s all true,” I laugh, draping my arm across the back of Cammie’s chair.

  “Where are you from? You’re not from round here, I don’t recognise you,” I point out, plus his northern accent gives it away.

  “I’m from Leeds originally, moved here about a year ago. Too many memories back home.”

  He could have just said he was from Leeds, I didn’t need the extra spiel about memories and shit.

  “Are you staying for breakfast? I can whip up something if you like?” Marg offers.

  I don’t feel comfortable around William, his gaze always on me like I am show to be watched. I decline quickly and tell her we’ll be back for dinner.

  There is somewhere I need to be and it has been a long time due.

  “Hey, mum.”

  I bend down to my knees beside my mother’s grave and brush the dead flowers to the side. I replace them with fresh pink lilies which were her favourite.

  “I know I haven’t been by lately, it won’t happen again,” I promise her.

  I know she isn’t here, her body is rotten, only her skeleton remains and her soul never made it as far as the cemetery. I don’t believe in all that after life bull shit, when you’re dead, you’re dead. Yet, I can’t let myself think that she isn’t here in some way.

  She always tried to keep me out of trouble. When I stole, she kicked my arse and made sure I knew I had done wrong. When I got into fights at school or on the street, she would clip me round the ear and give me the talk about walking away. How I would be the bigger man if I did. She was crazy, if I had of walked away some little fucker would’ve taken me down without me seeing it coming. I reckon she knew she was fighting a losing battle, but she had to try. I didn’t do anything to piss her off on purpose, that’s just how it was and still is around here. She was terrified I would end up in a gang and shot down before my eighteenth birthday. That, I could do for her. I was never interested in working for someone else, whether it be legal or illegal. When I make money, it is for myself, not some jumped up prick getting away with doing none of the graft.