Love at First Sight Series Boxed Set: (Books 1-5) Read online

  Whatever he was doing, he couldn’t stop himself. The main symptom of OCD is the inability to control repetitive thoughts and actions. Another issue with those suffering from this condition is the obsessive side, which can be the scariest part. It’s a force that drives a person to latch onto a certain activity or even another person to the point of becoming obsessed. That’s what I believe Rhett is afraid of. He sees me as his next obsession. Given his current behavior, I’m pretty sure I already am.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Rhett Calder

  MY INTERNAL ORGANS FEEL as if they have been ripped from my abdominal cavity but, by God, I did what I meant to do. I successfully finished making Violet a delicious Italian meal—shrimp scampi with sides of garlic and Parmesan toast and a garden salad with homemade Italian dressing. Of course, I won’t be able to share it with her. I’ve regained a modicum of control and am somewhat steadier, but I cannot be alone with her anymore this evening.

  This pattern of fleeing from her slices through my heart like a razor through a sheet, but I literally have no choice. Backing my Kia onto Ballenger Road, I give her a call. If I hadn’t waited until I was out of her house and on the move, I wouldn’t have been able to leave at all. Seeing her pretty face and hearing her melodic voice would have broken what little self-control I had willed into existence.

  She answers on the first ring and says, “I can see your taillights through my bedroom window. I didn’t want you to go.”

  “I wanted to stay, but it was better for you I didn’t.”

  “Why can’t I decide what’s best for myself? I mean, you did frighten me a little, but I understand what’s happening now. I’m not afraid anymore. Please turn around and come back.”

  There’s that damn please word again. But this time I won’t give in.

  “I’m sorry, Violet. I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Never mind the whys; go downstairs and eat. You won’t be able to maintain those sexy curves if you keep starving yourself.”

  She giggles. “I’ve never been accused of doing that before.”

  “Well, don’t think I didn’t notice the takeout bag on the counter. It was still full. You didn’t eat the breakfast Hawk brought you.”

  “Do you blame me? After he basically called me a gold digger, I couldn’t swallow past the hurt and anger.”

  “I’m sorry he was such an ass. Forget about him.”

  I can hear the smile in her voice. “Consider him forgotten.”

  “Are you still in your bedroom, or have you made it downstairs?”

  “I’m on my way to the kitchen right now.”

  “Good. And Violet?”

  “Yes, Rhett?”

  “Don’t be late for class tomorrow.”

  “Shut up.”

  “My mouth don’t run on shutters, it runs on biscuit cutters.”

  She laughs out loud, and it’s music to my ears.

  “You are such a silly man.”

  “And you are such a beautiful woman. Now go eat.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good girl,” I say, ending the call.

  THE HOUSE I’M RENTING feels like a hull now. Empty and fruitless. I was content my first week here. That short time before the rodeo. Before I met Violet. Before the first day of school when I realized she was my student. Now, the place I’m dwelling in is nothing more than a vast void constructed of lumber and nails, ceramic tiles and carpeting, curtains and windows. I’m a man without a home. Anyplace without Violet is merely a structure for shelter. Yet nothing can shelter my heart from the storm of need and desire raging within.

  It was stupid and irresponsible for me to admit my feelings for her. Saying the L-word was risky at best. I won’t deny my soul sang a joyous song when she reciprocated in kind, but being emotionally involved with this woman promises dangers beyond the physical attraction ferociously sizzling between us.

  If I allow myself to dwell on the desire I feel for her—on the love swelling every valve of my heart—I’ll get back in that car, race to her house and ravish her all night long.

  The only thing that might take the edge off and keep me sane tonight is painting. I have to paint. To make love to Violet on the canvas. To take her in ways that would make a hooker blush. Each stroke and swirl of the brush will depict all the depravity of my obsession. In regards to her, I can no longer fight this facet of my disease. I am obsessed. Violet Driscoll belongs to me. She is mine. Now and always.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Violet Driscoll

  THE SECOND I WALK into the kitchen, the delicate, delicious aroma makes my mouth water and my belly growl. Rhett laid out a scrumptious looking spread. I can’t wait to sink my teeth into it. To have the rich flavors dance across my tongue as I chew and swallow every morsel he prepared. A meal he made with love just for me. It feels really nice to be taken care of. No one has cooked for me since my mom left and, even in the months before she ran off, she wasn’t spending much time over a stove.

  Right now, her absence and the weight of being alone is almost too heavy to bear. Tonight would be better if Hazel were back home instead of at the hospital. I would carry all this food over to her house, and we could eat it together in her retro dining room.

  Sitting down at the table, I take a deep breath, forcing myself to relax. My dad always said a person should strive to be in the moment. To enjoy every minute as it occurs because that particular time will never happen again. Once it’s gone, there is no getting it back. God, how I wish I could have him back. But there is no point in wanting the impossible.

  Picking up a fork, I swirl it in a heap of pasta covered with jumbo shrimp and a decadent, buttery sauce. The first bite literally bursts in my mouth. Never have I tasted anything this delectable in all of my days. The only thing that could make this meal more exceptional would be sharing it with Rhett.

  However, given my level of hunger and the manner in which I am shoveling in this scampi, I’m also kind of glad he can’t see me. With every crunch of the garden salad, every twirl of the pasta ribbons and every rip and dip of the bread, I moan in pleasure.

  It is only after I clean my plate and finish off the glass of ice tea that I see a white envelope lying on the counter. Standing, I walk over and pick it up. The triangle flap isn’t sealed, and the content is too heavy to be a letter. Flipping it open, I see a pile of hundred dollar bills. I start to get the same queasy feeling I did when Hawk tossed that stack at me this morning.

  When I remove the money, a tri-folded note floats onto the counter. With trembling fingers, I unfold it and begin to read.

  My dearest Violet,

  I can only imagine the look of shock and disdain on your pretty face as you gaze upon this money. I hope my letter will soothe away any anger as well as any attempts at rejection. You didn’t make out a list of bills as I asked. So I guesstimated the amount you would need each month. Unless you tell me you require more, I will continue giving you $2000.00 a month until you graduate.

  You see, I never meant to declare my love to you tonight. Hell, I never meant to fall in love with you at all. But I can’t undo either of those things, nor do I want to. Having said that, you belong to me now. You’re my responsibility. Your debts are my debts. Your problems are my problems. Your happiness is my greatest reward.

  It’s hard to believe this first week—well, half-week of school—is almost over. Starting tomorrow afternoon, I will be giving you your first private art lesson. Surprise! I wanted to tell you in person, but the written word will have to do. Principal Huntly has approved a two-hour block for you and me to work one-on-one. I can’t think of a nicer way to spend a Friday afternoon. I hope you are as ecstatic about this as I am.

  By the way, I have arranged for a driver to pick your neighbor up from the hospital in the morning. Don’t worry; it isn’t Hawk. Along with the transportation, I have also hired a private nurse to stay with Hazel during her recovery. From here on out, I need you to be at school when you’
re supposed to be. The degree of success you’re going to enjoy demands a ton of work, Violet. It’s time for you to get busy.

  Until tomorrow,

  R. Calder

  “THANK GOD IT’S FRIDAY,” Candace Johnson yells, plowing into me as I make my way down the hallway. She’s the head cheerleader on the varsity squad and as stuck up as the day is long. I used to be so jealous of her but not anymore. In the past, had she so rudely bumped into me, I would have gone off on her. But nothing can bring me down now. I have one more class to get through before I get to spend two happy, uninterrupted hours with Rhett. Just the two of us painting away without a care in the world. Nothing could be better.

  As I take my seat in Miss Gramlett’s English class, Anna Campbell leans over and says, “I should have taken up drawing instead of music. I hear the new art teacher is a hunk wrapped up in all kinds of hotness.”

  I shrug, trying to suppress the blush creeping up my neck and over my face. “I guess he’s okay looking if you like that type.”

  I have to play it cool. No one can find about me and Rhett.

  She smacks her gum. “What’s not to like? Cutie Calder is tall, dark and muscular. And I bet he’s real sensitive, too. You know what they say about artists.”

  I shake my head. “Tell me.”

  “They say artistic men are the best in bed. You know, because they actually give a shit about a woman’s pleasure. And I just bet Cutie Calder can bring it between the sheets. From what I’ve seen of his snug-fitting slacks, I’d say he’s packing a penis pistol big enough to shoot any woman to the moon.”

  Anna has no idea how accurate her assessment is. I mean, I haven’t actually seen Rhett’s cock unclothed, but I’ve felt it pushing against me many times. I can definitely attest to the monstrosity that lives in his pants. The outline of his manhood against fabric has given me a pretty good idea of his size. I’m certain if I took a ruler to him, he would be no less than nine inches long. The thought makes me gulp hard. I’ve fantasized a whole lot about having him inside me, but the truth is, I can’t imagine how he is going to fit.

  Before I can respond to Anna, Miss Gramlett, says, “Everyone get quiet and turn to page twenty-seven in your grammar book.”

  As she rattles on and on about prepositional phrases and comma splices, my mind wanders to Rhett. To the taste of his lips, the feel of them on my mouth and my pussy. When he ate me out on my kitchen table, I felt sensations and saw colors I never knew existed before. Anna was absolutely right about the artistic types. It’s too bad I can never tell her how right she is.

  Another hour of diagramming sentences, conjugating verbs and identifying dangling modifiers, and my brain is fried. All I want to do is get the hell out of here and run straight to Rhett.

  When the bell mercifully rings, I grab my purse and make a mad dash toward the door. Just as I clear the threshold, Miss Gramlett calls me back inside the room. It’s all I can do not to roll my eyes and stomp my feet. Why in the world must she pick today to detain me?

  Trudging over to her desk, I cross my arms over my chest and give her a questioning look. I am in no mood to make small talk.

  Miss Gramlett purses her lips, tilts her head to the side and exhales dramatically before speaking. “I overheard your and Anna’s little conversation. It was most inappropriate, to say the least. Mr. Calder is a talented teacher and deserves the respect of his students.”

  I frown. “Why are you holding me? Anna was the one making all the naughty comments. I barely responded.”

  “True. But Anna isn’t in Mr. Calder’s class. You are, Violet. I trust you will behave yourself when you’re around him.”

  “I’m always well-behaved, Miss Gramlett. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a private art lesson with Rhe—Mr. Calder.”

  I can’t help but relish the look of shock and what I can only interpret as jealousy on her overly-taut horse face. I know I shouldn’t draw any extra attention to myself or Rhett, but I don’t like the way Miss Gramlett is acting. It’s no secret she is newly divorced. You can’t keep something like that under wraps in a small town. I’m betting she has her eyes set on Rhett. Well, she best rotate those peepers in another direction because he is my man.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Rhett Calder

  WHEN VIOLET ENTERS THE art room, the feelings of excitement and anticipation I have been experiencing all day long begin to twist into anxiety and dread. She’s too damn beautiful. Too damn sensuous. Too damn tempting. I’m not going to be able to control myself. Even knowing the school’s security guard—Jerome—will be making his rounds past my room every fifteen minutes won’t be enough to deter my desire.

  Shit! She’s wearing another miniskirt like the one I so easily lifted last night. So effortlessly pushed up her thighs and over her ample hips to reveal her pretty little panty-less pussy. She has twisted my life into a series of soul-searing, heart-racing, gut-clenching memories. She mesmerizes my mind. There is no way in hell I can resist her.

  Placing her purse on my desk, her luscious, pouty lips break into a breathtaking smile. Instantly, my cock turns to granite. All the air leaves my lungs when she says, “Hey, Mr. Calder.”

  “Hello, Violet.”

  “Are you ready for me, sir?”

  I’ll never be ready for you, gorgeous.

  “Yes. I’ve got your easel set up over here. We should get started.”

  “What are you going to teach me today?”

  How to deep throat my dick after I cunt lick you into a coma.

  “I thought we would concentrate on light and shadows. And all the darker places in between.”

  “Sounds fun and kind of dangerous.”

  Oh, God, Violet. You are in so much danger. I should tell you to run fast and far instead of silently luring you here like prey before the gaping, salivating mouth of a lion.

  “It’ll be whatever you want it to be,” I say, inhaling the green-apple scent of her shampoo.

  “I want what you want, Rhett. Tell me what to do.”

  “Start with a deep Sienna. Load up the two-inch brush. Use long, continuous strokes from the top of the canvas to the bottom.”

  “Like this,” she coos, looking back over her shoulder.

  “No,” I groan, placing my hand over hers on the brush handle. “Like this. Barely bend your wrist, never lift the bristles from the board. We’re going to work on the vertical today.”

  “Kind of like I prepped the canvas in my bedroom except I did it on the horizontal.”

  “That’s right, only we won’t be smoothing out the ridges. Today is all about exploring bolder textures. Appreciating roughness. Not everything in life goes smoothly, Violet. Neither should it on the canvas,” I say, grinding my erection against her voluptuous ass.

  I swear this is not how I saw her first lesson going.

  She leans her head back against my chest in response and whispers breathlessly, “The only ridge I want to explore right now is the one nestled into my ass crack.”

  I growl into her ear, “Fuck, Violet. You don’t know what you’re saying. We can’t do this. I can’t do this to you.”

  “Please don’t run this time, Rhett. I need you.”

  I glance at my classroom door. It’s closed but not locked. The clock on the wall says we have about twelve minutes before Jerome comes around. The thrill of touching her until then is driving me out of my already fucked-up mind.

  Taking the paint brush out of her hand and laying it on the palette, I drag her to the back of the room and into the supply closet. Being out of sight will buy us time if someone should unexpectedly show up.

  The second we enter the dimly-lit space, our passion fills it to overflowing. I shove Violet into a corner so her back is against the wall, and my body is boxing her in from the side. As with painting, sex is all about the angles. With lightning speed, I grab both her wrists and pin them above her head while my other hand reaches beneath the fluttery fabric of her skirt. I curse under my breath when I cup her b
are mound. “Damn it, woman. Do you ever wear panties?”

  She grins wickedly. “Not if I can help it. Are you complaining, Mr. Calder?”

  “No,” I groan, running my finger up the sweet, wet seam of her sex. When I lightly graze her clit, her eyes bulge and her breath begins coming in short, soft spurts.

  “Your little cunt feels so good, Violet. So. Fucking. Good.”

  She gasps, and I take her mouth with all the possession and vengeance of a man on the brink of lust-filled insanity. The kiss is devastating and intoxicating in its intensity. Lifting my head to suck oxygen into my burning lungs, I tenderly but firmly rub circles over her love bud.

  Every whimper falling from her lips drives me harder, coils me tighter, ties my mind into knots of awe and disbelief. She and I should be painting. I shouldn’t be diddling her to a climax or dry-humping her hip like a horny prick who can’t control himself. But the truth is, I can’t. When it comes to Violet, I cannot control myself.

  “Oh, Rhett. I didn’t think anything could feel as yummy as your tongue did down there. But God, your hand is amazing, too.”

  Her praise ignites a raging inferno in my belly. Increasing the pressure and strokes of my finger to match the thrust of my pelvis against her hip, I growl, “I need you to let go and surrender, Violet. I can’t last much longer, and I won’t come without you.”

  She thrusts her hips forward, pushing her pussy harder against my hand. Her gasps and pants are increasing, and I know she’s getting close.

  “Rhett, I—I don’t know if I can climax under this kind of pressure. I’m afraid someone might walk in on us.”

  “You can come, and you will. Trust me, baby. Don’t fear. Just feel. Let’s do this together.”