Obsession Tastes Like You

Touch me and I'll fall apart. Don't, and I'll burn anyway.

Kole didn't come back to the hotel suite that night.

He left his phone on the counter. His ring light still plugged in. His cologne haunting the bathroom air.

Jackson noticed every detail.

He didn't sleep. Just sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the city lights bleeding through the curtains, jaw clenched so tight his teeth ached. He could still hear the elevator door closing-could still see Kole's face right after those words:

You think you own me.I do.

And Kole didn't deny it.

He just left.

---

By 10 a.m., he still hadn't returned.

By 11, the staff told Jackson they saw Kole hop into a cab-laughing.

By noon, Jackson saw it for himself.

An online clip. Twenty seconds. Kole, radiant in the sun, shoulder pressed to a broad-shouldered man in sunglasses. Laughing too loud. Smiling too wide.

Jackson's blood turned molten.

Not jealousy.

Possession.

The way Kole smiled at this stranger like he hadn't just shattered Jackson in a hotel elevator.

---

It took him forty minutes to track him down.

Another twenty to find the beach café. Palm trees swaying lazily, tourists sipping fruit cocktails, and Kole-right there. Legs crossed, sunglasses low on his nose, sipping iced coffee like he wasn't running from the hurricane he'd caused.

Jackson didn't wait for a waiter. Or a greeting.

He moved through the crowd like smoke.

And when Kole turned-when their eyes locked across the table-it was like flipping a match in gasoline.

"Oh," Kole said, tilting his head. "You found me."

Jackson didn't say a word.

The guy beside Kole-cute, tanned, confident-started to rise. "Hey, is something wrong-?"

Jackson's glare shut him up.

Kole leaned back in his chair, smirking like the devil in silk. "You gonna sit, or just glower at me like a Bond villain?"

Jackson's voice was low. Controlled. Dangerous. "We need to talk."

Kole stood.

Didn't argue. Didn't run.

But when Jackson reached to grab his arm, Kole yanked it free.

"Careful," he said. "People are watching."

Jackson's eyes narrowed. "Then let them."

---

They didn't talk in the car.

Not when Jackson shoved the door open. Not when Kole slid in, crossed his legs, and looked out the window with practiced indifference.

But something shifted when the door closed.

No more sunlight.

No more crowd.

Just the sound of the engine and the thick silence between them.

Kole turned, slowly. "Why are you even here?"

"You didn't come back."

"Didn't know I had to report to you."

"You don't," Jackson said. "But don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying."

"You are."

Kole's jaw tensed. "Maybe I needed space."

"From me?"

Kole didn't answer.

Jackson leaned closer, voice rough now. "You left after that and ended up with him?"

Kole arched a brow. "Jealous?"

Jackson's lip curled. "You think this is a game?"

"Isn't it?" Kole whispered. "You push. I pull. You say I'm yours. Then leave me drowning in it."

Jackson lunged forward-grabbing Kole's jaw gently but firmly, his thumb grazing his cheek, their mouths inches apart.

"Do you know what you're doing to me?" Jackson growled.

Kole's voice trembled. "You think you're the only one losing sleep?"

Jackson inhaled sharply. His fingers slipped from Kole's jaw, down his throat, over his collarbone, stopping just above the first button of his shirt.

He didn't kiss him.

He just hovered-breathless, heavy, aching.

Kole's voice was barely there. "Then why won't you touch me?"

Jackson looked into his eyes and said-

"Because if I do, I won't stop."

Silence.

Kole's chest rose and fell too fast. His fingers trembled where they clutched his own knee.

"I want you to," he whispered.

Jackson groaned-head tipping forward, forehead pressing to Kole's.

But even then-still-he didn't kiss him.

---

Back at the hotel, they didn't speak.

But when Kole changed-shirt off, pants low on his hips-he left the door cracked open.

Jackson passed by.

Paused.

Watched.

Kole didn't close the door.

And Jackson didn't enter.

But they both knew.

It was only a matter of time now.

"Do you know what you're doing to me?" Jackson growled.

Kole's voice trembled-not in fear, but from the taut rope of tension stretched between them. "Maybe I do," he said, low and daring. "And maybe I like it."

Jackson's thumb brushed down, tracing Kole's bottom lip like a threat.

"You don't know what you're playing with."

Kole's breath caught.

"I do," he whispered.

"Then stop." Jackson's voice was raw now. "Stop laughing with other men. Stop running from what this is."

"I'm not running."

"You are."

"I needed air."

"You needed attention."

Kole shoved Jackson's hand off. "So what if I did? You act like I'm some... thing you bought. Like I belong in your shadow."

"You do belong to me."

There it was. The line Kole didn't know he'd been waiting for. The one that cut through the noise like a scream in a church.

And yet...

He didn't move.

Didn't storm out this time.

He just stared at Jackson like he was seeing him for the first time-this man who didn't do love songs and candlelight. Only fire. Only possession.

"You can't just say that," Kole said, quieter now. "You can't look at me like that and expect me not to break."

"I don't expect you to break," Jackson said, his voice tight. "I expect you to give in."

Their faces were so close now. One twitch, one breath, and their mouths would touch. They both knew it.

Kole's fingers clenched into fists at his sides.

He wanted to kiss him.

He wanted to shove him away.

He wanted Jackson to grab him again and say it louder-say it without shame.

But instead, he whispered, "Then take it."

Jackson blinked. "What?"

"My attention," Kole said, heart thundering. "My mouth. My time. My everything. If you want it-take it."

Jackson's hand rose again-but not to touch.

To steady himself.

Because Kole was fire wrapped in silk, and Jackson was already burning.

But he didn't kiss him.

Didn't touch him.

He leaned back, shaking his head like he was losing the last ounce of control he had.

"No," Jackson said hoarsely. "Not like this."

Kole blinked. "Then how?"

"When you're mine," he said. "Really mine. Not just in the contract. Not just when the cameras are on."

Kole stared.

Then, softer, more wounded than he meant to sound, "I don't know what that means."

Jackson looked out the window. The city blurred by, but the silence between them was razor sharp.

"It means I'm not touching you until I know you'll stay."

Kole didn't answer.

He didn't know how to say that he already had. That somewhere between the bickering and fake smiles, he'd started needing Jackson's eyes on him more than air.

So instead, he sat back, folding his arms.

Fine.

No kissing.

No touching.

Just this unbearable, boiling want sitting thick between them like unsaid confessions.

But Kole didn't run this time.

He stayed.

And when Jackson dropped him at the hotel, neither said goodnight.

Because it wasn't over.

It was only just beginning.