Arran’s Obsession (Body Count, #1)

When I was little, I used to force myself to endure the dark. I’d suffer nightmares and would wake with a racing heart, pure terror gripping me, but I’d never go to my mother because she worked so hard and was always exhausted. Instead, I’d play games to get my brain to settle from the panic.

An alphabet game was my favourite. I’d pick a topic, like animals or food, then go from A to Z, naming one for each letter.

I still did it now, my unfortunate caffeine addiction messing with my sleep. But tonight, my mind wouldn’t supply. I’d get six letters in then would find myself back in the basement of the warehouse, poised to be attacked by one of the violent strangers. Or with Cherry on the steps of the church, a blade flashing towards her.

I’d had a terrifying evening, but it could’ve been so much worse.

Even with the comparison, I was stuck here with no phone, clothes, or anything, with just the will of Arran to decide what was to happen to me. Damn me for not listening to his staff member as she’d walked me back to the office. I might’ve had a clue what was going to happen next with his game and the rules.

Silence played out through the rooms. I’d taken a shower, lights off, and climbed into bed naked, not wanting to put back on the t-shirt that was dirty with dried blood. Nor had I wanted to snoop in drawers. My fingers had been well and truly burned.

In the room beyond the bedroom, the door clicked.

“It’s me,” Arran said into the dark.

It had been a couple of hours since he’d locked me in. He appeared in the doorway. “Awake?”

“Yep,” I squeaked.

“Why are the lights off?”

Because fear kept me alive. Because it meant I wasn’t sitting here in a spotlight where anyone could see me. I didn’t answer, and he tried again.

“Hungry?”

I shook my head, then said my answer out loud. “No.”

“Is there anything you need? If not, I’ll take a shower.”

I repeated my no, and he disappeared into the bathroom. I gave it a few seconds then leapt from the bed and darted out of the room to the exit. The handle moved, but the door stayed locked. My heart sank. I returned to bed.

Water ran in the room next door, and I tried hard not to picture Arran’s naked body. But now I’d seen almost all of it, since he’d been inside me, it was a losing battle.

Eventually, the water stopped, and he emerged back into the bedroom, naked and with the faint dawn light outlining him in silver. He scrubbed himself down with a towel, draped it over a chair, then climbed into bed next to me.

I tugged the sheets to my throat. “What are you doing?”

Arran thumped a pillow into shape then dropped down heavily. “Since you’re playing ignorant about the rules, I’ll remind you of the most relevant. We’re stuck together. For the first week, we barely leave each other’s side. We sleep together and eat together.”

“You’ll sleep in my bed?”

“It’s my bed, and aye, I will.” He waited a beat, then his tone darkened. “And we fuck, daily.”

My heart thumped. “You’d force yourself on me again?”

A rush of bedclothes and he was over me, his forehead to mine, that frustration back in spades. Sweet brandy laced his breath, but it wasn’t that which stole my focus.

Even in the dark, bruises shone on his face, his eye swelling shut and his lip cut and thick.

“Force you? When did I do that the first time? You forced me by the shit you pulled. And don’t forget, in my fucking office, you gave me consent. You agreed to fuck me whenever I wanted, then you put yourself into a position where I had to oblige. So do me the courtesy of dropping the fake shock.”

Against my body, he was hard, his dick pinned between us.

Desire rushed and pooled at my core.

“Are you going to do it now?” I whispered.

Arran inched back. Swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing, just visible in the dark. Propped on his elbow, he watched me, some of the desperation in him easing. “We already did tonight, so you’re safe. Or maybe that’s me.”

Cautiously, I rolled to face him, less afraid than I had the right to be. “What happened to your face?”

“Irrelevant. A woman was killed on your street the night I visited your flat.”

I recoiled, ice cold suddenly despite the warm room. A thought rose, something I hadn’t considered. Arran had been there the night Cherry died. Cherry was a sex worker, though she wasn’t employed by him. Was her murder revenge for working outside of his cartel? God, was I here because I was a potential witness and he needed to stop me from talking?

The shock of the events of the past few days twisted into a terrible conclusion. “Was it you?”

“Was what me?”

“Did you kill her?”

Anger flashed over his features, swift and cold. Something else, too. It looked like hurt. “No, I didn’t. I don’t hurt women.”

My mouth fell open. I was playing with fire again, but I couldn’t stop. “Your whole life is set up around hurting women. Are you joking?”

Through gritted teeth, he made his answer. “I’m tired, and likely to act irrationally, so I’m going the fuck to sleep. Tomorrow, I’ll ask you again, and you’ll answer me. Don’t bother trying to leave. I locked the door.”

He turned his back. In a minute, he was out cold, and I stared into the dark room, my spiralling thoughts settling into better logic.

If he had been the murderer, he would hardly confess it to me. But a feeling in my gut told me I was way off the mark, even considering his lifestyle and the part of his empire that I’d seen.

Yet someone had murdered her. The same evening Arran was talking about, I’d seen Don drive by. I’d assumed he was there for me, and perhaps he had been, but he could’ve moved on to taking out his anger on the next warm body. Also, Cherry had mentioned some clients she was expecting to see. That was a starting place to rack my brain over. And to bury the oddest sense of guilt from accusing the gang leader at my side.

Eventually, sleep claimed me as well.

I woke to Arran’s heavy arm curling over me. He grumbled and tugged me closer, burying his face in my hair, though his breathing stayed slow and deep, the undoubted pain from his injuries not waking him. I could’ve extracted myself, but I needed a hug. Even if it was from him.

When I woke the next time, daylight was fading around the shutters, night returning once again. I’d slept the day away. The bed beside me was empty, but noise and light from the other room told me my kidnapper wasn’t far away.

He appeared in the doorway, thankfully dressed, and snapped on a lamp, a tray in his hand. His bruises had worsened, dark and shiny. “You slept hard.”

“You slept mostly on me,” I retorted and sat up, keeping the sheet tightly wrapped around my naked body.

He snorted, then brought the tray over. The scent of bacon reached me, and my stomach rumbled. The meal he offered was a bacon sandwich, a mug of coffee alongside.

“Sorry about what I said last night,” I mumbled. Better to keep him sweet than make even more of an enemy.

Arran’s expression remained neutral, but he nodded once. “Thank you. Now eat.”

Hunger took control of me, and I accepted the tray, chugging the hot coffee first before tearing into the sandwich. If he was poisoning me, I’d take the risk.

The gangster rumbled a laugh and settled in an armchair by the bed. “Couldn’t make it iced coffee for you, but I figured that would be good enough.”

I sent him an appreciative half-smile around the last mouthful, sitting back to sip the coffee in dizzying delight. He’d even added some kind of syrup, just a smidge, as I liked.

“You take good care of your prisoners.”

He lowered his gaze. “You’re the one who tied herself to me, so you need to be wherever I am, and vice versa. Also I can’t trust you not to roam my friends’ house unguarded. That’s why I locked the door.”

“Screw your rules.” I wrinkled my nose. “What if I don’t follow them?”

“I intend to, so you can either make it really easy, or very hard.”

His gaze held mine. Heat zapped through me. There was something magnetic about this man. A draw towards him that wouldn’t break. If I’d caught a tiny crush from him coming to my flat, his actions on the floor of the warehouse had boosted that to the stratosphere.

I hated him, but my craven, traitorous body didn’t get the memo.

I swallowed. “Talk me through them. The rules, I mean.”

“The game is a love match. The people who enter it are looking for something different to normal dating.”

“Wow,” I drawled. “Romantic.”

“It is. Intensely so. Love like no other, for those involved. Once the lucky ones are paired up, they live together for four weeks. Share their lives completely. In the first week, they can’t be apart for more than two hours. That eases as time goes on.”

I widened my eyes. “I’m your prisoner for a month?”

My missing father, the eviction notice, the fact I couldn’t text my brother to let him know where I was. It all crammed forward in my mind.

Arran continued, ignorant of my turmoil. “The couple eats together, sleeps together, and fucks every day. It’s encouraged to go at it multiple times, but the commitment is once. Still pretending you don’t know any of this?”

Hot emotion brewed in me. Jamming my fingers into my hair, I unsettled the tray still on my lap so the plate clattered. “I told you I didn’t. I wasn’t there to trap you, you thug. Why would I want to be hunted like that?”

Arran reached out a long arm and claimed the tray, setting it on a side table, the disbelief in his expression switching to something new. “Thug?”

“Gangster, liar, whatever you want to call yourself.”

“I’m none of those things, but that’s nice judgement from a sneak thief like you. Need I remind you that you stole that place in the game from a real contestant? Something my team is going to have to play down, though I have no fucking clue how we’re going to explain my presence there.”

Some of the fire went out of me. I didn’t want to believe anything he said, but he had been so consistent it felt genuine.

“I assumed taking part was a perk of the job,” I said with a sniff.

“That’s where you’re wrong—I’m not interested in love. We run it for contestants only, and the people who pay to watch.”

Watch? The camera above me. The crowd of people cheering outside, celebrating. Something inside me curled up and died. “People saw me?”

Arran nodded. “It’s live streamed to screens in the club. A limited number of vetted people get to observe.”

God, the humiliation. I set down my precious coffee and turned away from him, curling up under the sheet. I’d known there would be someone behind the camera, but I figured it would be a security team, perhaps. Not paying customers.

“Please can you get rid of the footage?” I begged, not looking his way. “If my family ever saw that, I’d never be able to face them again.”

“Your family will never see it. It isn’t recorded, and we take all electronics from the watchers. That voyeur side of it is a pure moneymaker for the club as well as for the thrill of the people taking part. It validates what they’ve done and the choice they made to have it witnessed.”

I hugged my knees. The other women who’d taken part were enthusiastic beyond measure. They would have known all of this in advance. Voluntarily put themselves forward for it. I didn’t want to admit it, but imagining those final scenes with Arran fighting off the men who hurt me then entered me on the floor sent waves of fresh and insistent desire through my nervous system.

My body cried out for him. Wet pooled at my core, and I ached to be filled again.

He was everything I should loathe, and in the same heartbeat, I’d never wanted anyone more.

“Why do people do it?” I whispered.

“Like I said, they want to fall in love through a different means than polite dating. Both parties make promises including to uphold the agreement of staying together. The men promise financial support, and we tie them to that. Outside of that, the claiming is…binding. The savagery of it creates a bond like nothing else.”

“What do the women promise?”

“Other than to be healthy and willing, they’re the prize. They get to be adored and respected. They also promise faithfulness. Love. Children, if both want them. The woman can work or make a home, the choice is hers. This is modern dual-ownership. However their relationship operates after the four weeks is up is up to them, but out of the six times I’ve run this, no couple ever broke apart.”

Six times five equalled maybe thirty couples forged by this brutal method. I’d taken that from Natasha, the woman whose place I’d stolen. For the first time, a sense of disquiet slunk over me. I didn’t like it. Nothing about this had been planned. Nor did I want the terms his game offered.

“I wish you’d just let me go.”

“And I wish you’d never got us into this situation, but it is what it is.”

I twisted to face him. “You’re the one making this decision. You can just say no. Fuck your damn rules. I have people who are going to miss me. They’ll report me gone. What will you do then?”

“My reputation is built on my word, so no, I can’t fuck my rules. There are a lot of people who work for me, a lot of eyes and ears watching us who’ll spot a lie a mile off. If I failed to uphold my own fucking decree, we’ll both be back in that space. Understand?”

“Back inside that basement? You wouldn’t dare.”

“Entering the game is a commitment. Winning a privilege. If those winners disrespect it, they’ll be dragged back in by the people who watched and celebrated them. That’s the consequence. Regarding your family,” he checked his phone, “your father, Adam Walker, and your brother, Riordan Jones, tell them where you are. I’m not stopping you.”

I made a sound of disbelief. Not only was this getting worse by the second, but he’d done a background check on me. The nerve. “I don’t have my phone. Or my bag or keys. Not even a single scrap to wear. Everything got left in a locker in the warehouse or torn off me.”

Arran’s gaze dropped from my face to my body. In my haste to yell at him, I’d let the sheet slip. Bared my breasts.

For a moment, neither of us moved. His chest rose and fell, and that insane claim he’d made of being a virgin until yesterday slammed into my head.

Another piece of information I refused to believe.

With obvious difficulty, he tore his focus away. Produced his phone from his pocket and tossed it to the mattress. “I’ll get your possessions retrieved and delivered here. In the meantime, call your family. Just be aware that all communications are monitored, so I’ll know if you attempt to give up your location or sell me out.”

More slowly, I covered myself, the weirdest urge in me to do the opposite and throw back the sheet. “I can wait.”

There was so much left to say, and so many questions I had, but everything faded behind the rising wall of lust. Every part of me was infected by it, the very air in the room heavy with need. I didn’t know where it was coming from, but it was getting harder to ignore. Maybe he had drugged me after all.

“How do we handle the once-a-day thing?” I found myself saying. “Please don’t tell me we have to film it as proof for your sick audience.”

The gang leader rolled his bulky shoulders, his muscles flexing under his tight black t-shirt. “No. It’ll be taken at our word, but once we go back, anyone who’s interested will be able to look at us and know. Considering the idea of sex is so repulsive, we can resort to what I did in the club last night.”

He’d entered me but that was all. No completion.

The strangest sense of disappointment sank through me. I wanted him to knock me onto my back, force my legs open, and fill the gap with his big body. Line up, fuck into me, make me scream. I wanted his face between my thighs. His mouth on mine after so I could taste us. It was a fast and shocking fantasy I’d never confess. I wasn’t his to claim.

“What if we don’t?” I asked.

Arran’s gaze burned into me. “I break my word to my club and to all those who trust me. I’d lose my reputation. An unacceptable price. To safeguard that, I’m prepared to barter for your willingness.”

He could lie about it, but my brain got stuck on a word. Barter? Like I was a sex worker to be managed.

A flash of anger consumed me again, riding the wave of my lust. I should challenge him more but I wanted this. With no sense in my head, I threw back the sheet and bared myself to him. “The first one’s on me. Do what you need to do.”

Arran stilled. A snake about to strike. Then he stood, and my gaze sank to where his dick tented his grey sweatpants. Either he’d been hard this whole time or he held the record for the world’s fastest erection.

But oh God, the need in his eyes drove mine all the higher.

He closed in. I expected him to kneel on the bed, but something battled in his expression, and the gangster encircled my wrist with his hand and pulled me to my feet. Turning me, he shoved me against the wall so I had to press my face to the cool plaster. A rush of material and he was right there, his dick spreading my wet heat without warning but not going inside. My eyes closed by themselves, my nipples hardening, and my toes pressing up automatically as if to get into a better position for him.

Holding my hip, Arran crowded me from behind, his body hot and so much bigger than mine, and his other arm coming around to clamp me to him.

With one jerk of his hips, he filled me.

I cried out, instant ecstasy claiming my senses. My world shrank to the intrusion. Never had sex felt like this. The very first thrust having me almost on the edge of an orgasm.

I shuddered. There was nothing I wanted more than for him to finish what he’d started. What I’d started. Whatever. I needed him to make me feel good after a weekend of everything being messed up.

Around his rigid shaft, I throbbed, earning an answering pulse that thickened him all the more. Arran ducked his mouth to my neck. He kissed my skin. An open-mouthed, hot suck of my flesh. Then he stopped. Breathed. A predator over my shoulder.

“What do you want from me?” he asked.

I couldn’t answer. Words were too hard to form.

The base of his dick stretched me so well.

“Why did you target me? Who paid you, or were you threatened into doing it?”

“None of that,” I finally breathed.

He set both hands flat to the wall either side of my head, took another heavy breath, and abruptly pushed away, withdrawing with a grunt that sounded like pain.

Bereft, I peered around, tracking his exit from the room. He yanked the inner doors closed behind him.

Then I staggered back to bed, put my hand to the place we’d been joined, and sank two fingers inside me, unwilling to give up the feeling of everything he’d done, and refused, to my body.