Friday, August 25, 2017

#FirstChapterFriday: NEEDING HIM (An Obsessed Novella) by Jeanne St. James


NEEDING HIM (An Obsessed Novella)
by Jeanne St. James
Genre: Contemporary Erotic Romance, BDSM

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This is not just a love story, it's an obsession...

Grace:

The same week every year he comes to my little resort in Maine for five days, then disappears. His darkness, his demons, intrigue me and I need to know his story.
I hope he shows up again this year, because I’m determined to talk to him, make him see me and not look through me like I don’t exist. Make him realize I’m not just some anonymous person who hands him a key.
No, this year will be different.
I haven’t gotten laid in a long time. So, tag, he’s it.

 Nick:

For the past three years, I’ve come up to this remote area to forget, to bury my grief. But this year, I don’t need a trip to this run-down resort, this little cabin on the lake, to survive this week. However, there’s one thing I’ve left behind each year when I head back to reality…
Her.
I’ve found the right woman who’ll fill the emptiness deep inside of me, the hole that’s lurked there for years. I can’t get her out of my head. Funny thing is, I don’t even know her name. I never asked.
This year that’s going to change. And I hope she’s willing because I’m taking complete control.

Note: All books in the Obsessed series are standalone novellas. They are intended for audiences over 18 years of age since they include explicit sexual situations, including BDSM.


Chapter One

Grace:

Every year he shows up. He comes for five days and then disappears. Same week, every year, for the past three years. Arrives on a Sunday night and leaves Friday morning.
He hardly says a word to me. He picks up the keys to his cabin with a couple grunts, then locks himself in for the duration. I don’t know if he sleeps, eats or what. All I know is I’m not to disturb him in any fashion. He made that perfectly clear in a surly manner the first year.
I’m just glad I have an occupant. He never quibbles about the price of the cabin, never asks me for anything. Never complains.
The best part is, he comes during the off season when it’s so slow I think I'll become destitute. Be homeless and starve.
But, I watch him. He intrigues me and I want to know his story. Why this small town in Maine? Why this time of year?
Why?
And, last but not least, why is my tired little lakeside resort his choice? Yes, the area is beautiful, but it’s remote. Though, it’s not like he goes out hiking, or mountain biking, or even boating on the large lake.
Maybe that’s what he needs. Quiet. Peace.
Me? I get too much peace and quiet. This town bores me to death. Anyone with any ambition escapes as soon as they can.
Though, I can’t get myself to run away. I can’t even walk away.
This was my father’s resort. When he died, he left it to his only daughter. Hell, his only child. He took pride in this place, he built it with his own hands. So, of course, I take pride in it, too.
Even though it bores the fuck out of me.
And the dating scene?
Non-existent. If I’m lucky, I get laid when tourists come to moose watch in the summer. If I’m lucky, I get laid when the snowmobilers blow into town and take over the frozen lake and the nearby trails. If I’m lucky, I get laid when mountain bikers come and ride through the woods when the leaves are changing colors.
But, let’s just say, I haven’t been very lucky lately. Not in a long time. I swear I’ve converted back to a virgin, if that’s even possible.
Fortunately, I’m not uptight and can take care of my own needs. Though, that gets lonely and boring, too. Batteries and my vibrators have become my best friends.
Honestly, I really just need to get the fuck out of this town.
I sigh and look at my reservation book. Yes, book, because even the Internet sucks up here. And cell towers? Yeah, right. You may get a signal if you stand on your head and face North while singing Yankee Doodle Dandy.
Every cabin is still equipped with landline phones and the only television comes from a satellite dish, which only works when it isn’t cloudy, raining, snowing, or the birds aren’t chirping.
My heart races as I see his name written in my unreadable scribble. But, I know it’s him. I’ve reserved his regular cabin.
Not that any of the other cabins are booked since it’s the shoulder season. No one in their right mind is here. The leaves are now brown and falling, the lake too cold to swim in, but too warm for winter activities.
He made his reservation for this year before he left last year.
I hope he shows. Even at the deep discounted rate I’ve given him for coming at this time of year, every penny counts.
That's not the only reason I hope he comes. No, this year I’m determined to talk to him, make him see me, and not look completely through me like I don’t exist. Make him realize I’m not just some anonymous person who hands him a key and makes him sign a receipt.
No, this year it’s going to be different.
I haven’t gotten laid in a long time.
So, tag. He’s it.
****
Nick:

Once again, I’m making this fucking long-assed trip to the middle of Nowhere, Maine. And I have no idea why.
No, I know. I just don’t want to completely admit it to myself. Or think about it too hard.
I don’t need this place anymore.
I’m almost back to normal.
Whatever that means.
For the past three years, I’ve come up here to forget. To bury my grief. But, this year, I’m sure I don’t need this trip, this run-down resort, this little cabin on the lake, to survive this week.
Not this year.
So, that’s not the reason I’m taking this six-hour drive to a place that has shitty TV service, no cell coverage or Wi-Fi, right?
Not that I can’t use a break from my hectic schedule at work. I can. But, I could do that somewhere better. Like Aruba, not Bumfuck, Maine, where it isn’t warm, and the water is too cold to swim.
But, there’s one thing I’ve left behind each year when I head back to reality.
Her.
And she’s the reason I’m making this long trek again. Only a mere six hours from the city, from my everyday life.
Though, wouldn’t that just suck if she hooked up with one of the locals in the past year? Got married, is barefoot and pregnant, gained fifty pounds, and now wears a mu-mu and slippers around the place.
Damn.
If so, I would turn around and drive another six hours home, repack my bag, and jump on a flight to somewhere else.
Maybe not Aruba, maybe South Beach. Where the women are bangin’ and I may get a little banging myself.
It’s been too long.
Way too long.
And I’m so ready.
But I can’t get her out of my head.
And I don’t know why.
Funny thing is, I don’t even know her name. I never asked.

My bad.

About the author:

JEANNE ST. JAMES is a bestselling erotic romance author who loves an Alpha male (or two). She was only thirteen when she started writing since it gave her an escape from teenage angst! Her first paid published piece was an erotic story in Playgirl magazine. Her first erotic romance novel, Banged Up, was published in 2009. She is happily owned by farting French bulldogs. She writes M/F, M/M, and M/M/F ménages. Want to read a sample of her work? Download a sampler book here: BookHip.com/MTQQKK

To keep up with her busy release schedule check her website at www.jeannestjames.com or sign up for her newsletter: http://www.jeannestjames.com/newslettersignup


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