It isn't necessary to know me, or to know my name. All you need know, for now, are my motives. And my actions.
All else is irrelevant.
You could say I'm obsessive about everything. I'm that way with my life; I'm that way with my work. I tend to plan things out so there are no surprises, no questions about why something happened. So when I saw Craig Linkston for the first time, two things happened. One, I wanted to be with him. Two, I couldn't get him out of my mind.
Like it or not, he became something I obsessed over. Again and again.
You'd be surprised to know I've had affairs before. I'm not one of these geeks girls who spends all her time in the lab, thinking about science and formulas, and how I can bring about a breakthrough in my work. No, I've actually been with men. I've been on dates. I've been in love. I'm not a virgin, either: I've enjoyed physical love as much as any other woman.
But something has always been missing. A connection, a lack of empathy between me and whomever I was with at the time. Take Ernie. He was a great guy, with a great sense of humor. He loved me, he really did. He desired me like few people ever did, and told me every day that he loved me like no other.
He also had genitals . . . oh, god. It was like being screwed by an adult film actor. The first time he entered me, I could feel him as if he'd penetrated me all the way to my stomach. He was huge. He filled and stretched me like I was a teen having sex for the first time. I screamed when he ejaculated, as I felt him pump away inside me . . .
The sex was great. But I felt nothing for him beyond that. He was a fuck toy to me, just another friend with benefits, but nothing else.
I needed more. I needed to feel more than a large penis inside me.
I needed to feel love.
I felt that with Craig. The second I saw him, standing in the corridor outside my office, my heart connected to him, and I knew he was mine. He was my soul mate. He was the one who owned my heart.
There was a problem, however. That problem's name was Olivia D'avana.
Olivia was my supervisor. Well, not really. I reported to her, but she really didn't know my work, not the way my assistant knows it, or I know it. But she was a member of the Executive Staff for Bio-Futrara, so as the head of my section, I gave her my reports, and met with her every week.
She was gorgeous. She was a tall woman, with long, shapely legs, and very toned arms. She wasn't a hard body, though; she carried a bit more weight than needed in her hips and butt, but because she had broad shoulders, her silhouette was more of a marvelous hourglass than a pear.
But her skin tone . . . she'd told me her father had been a British architect, and an amateur body builder, and her mother was an accountant from Jamaica who'd met her father when they worked on a project together in Seattle. She'd remarked that she'd come away with her father's physique, her mother's skin tone, and the intelligence of both.
Craig was seeing Olivia. I knew this. I'd seen them together a few times, in the office, in the hallway. I saw how they looked at each other. I noticed how Craig softened around her, the way his fingers lightly touched her hand as he drew away after handing her a file.
They were together. It wasn't fair, because he was my soul mate, and for them to be together was wrong.
Craig needed to understand that she was completely wrong for him.
As I said, I'm a bit obsessive. I plan, because I desire a particular outcome, and I don't like to be blindsided by surprises. So, for weeks, I planed out how to get Craig away from Olivia. How to get him to notice me. How to show him that I was his soul mate, and that he need never look anywhere for anyone else.
When I finally realized what was needed to make this all come true, I was surprised I didn't come to the conclusion sooner:
All I had to do was take over Olivia's life.
Fortunately, I knew exactly how to make that happen . . .
Read Part Two Here
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