Her Obsession (by Sheridan Hartin) novel Chapter 75

Dressing Down To Dress Up.

Pinned, armed, and cocky, the both of them. Christ. Naomi had Liam’s arm twisted so high I thought his shoulder might pop, and he was still whining about rope work. Sage’s blade pressed under my chin, her weight against me like she’d never left the compound in shambles.

“You’re not cleared for this,” I reminded her, voice low.

“I don’t remember asking,” she shot back, eyes gleaming. “You think you can do my work without me? Darling, you’d turn it into a pub

brawl and call it efficient.”

Naomi snorted. “He’s not wrong. These boys? Loud, messy, way too obvious.” She leaned down, close to Liam’s ear. “You’d forget to breathe quiet if I wasn’t here.”

Liam growled, straining under her grip. “I can breathe just fine.”

“Yeah,” she purred, “but not when I’m sitting on your chest… or your face.”

I gagged. Loud. Couldn’t help it. “Christ almighty.”

Sage smirked. She’d won. Again. “Here’s the deal. You go play hitman, fine. But you’re not doing it blind.”

I frowned. “Meaning?”

“Meaning,” she said slowly, “you put us on comms, both of us. In your ears. Every step, every angle, every word, you follow our voices. Exactly. Because if you’re going to wear our names, you’re going to do it our way.”

Naomi nodded sharply. “Yeah. Consider us remote control. You two are just the hands.”

Liam groaned. “This is going to be hell.”

I looked at Sage, her blade easing but her grin smug as sin. Hell or not, I already knew I was going to say yes.

Because she was right. She always was.

I caved. Of course I caved. One look at her smug little grin, blade flashing at her side like punctuation, and I was done.

“Fine,” I muttered.

Liam groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Fucking hell, you’re pussy–whipped.”

Naomi’s hand cracked against his ass before the words were even cold. The sound echoed like a gunshot. Liam’s eyes went wide, his mouth hanging open, and then he caved too. Just like me.

“Alright, alright!” he barked, rubbing his backside, glaring at her. “Happy?”

Naomi beamed, hopping off him with the kind of excitement that made me wonder if she’d been waiting for that exact moment. “Thrilled. Okay! Let’s get them dressed!”

I frowned. “We are dressed.”

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12:49 Mon, Oct 20

Dressing Down To Dress Up.

Sage’s smirk sharpened like glass. “Ahh, yes. But you’re missing all the bells and whistles.”

I looked between them, their wicked smiles, the sparkle in Naomi’s eyes and then down at myself. Boots, jeans, black shirt. Practical. Functional.

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Apparently not good enough.

Sage leaned in, her voice a low whisper meant just for me. “If you’re going to be me, darling, then you’re going to look like me. And trust me, half the kill is presentation.”

Naomi clapped her hands like this was Christmas morning. “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

Fun for them. Absolute hell for us.

The problem wasn’t that we were dressed wrong. The problem was that Sage and Naomi had already decided we were going to be their dolls for the night.

“Boots off,” Sage ordered, tone sharp enough to make me pause. She raised an eyebrow when I didn’t move fast enough. “Don’t make me repeat myself, darling.”

Christ. I sat, tugged the laces loose, and kicked them off. Liam, to my right, muttered under his breath but obeyed too, grumbling like a kid forced to dress up for church.

Naomi hummed happily, going through Liam’s gear bag like it was a chest of toys. “Too heavy,” she said, tossing a pistol aside. “Too flashy,” she said of his vest. She strapped a knife to his thigh with quick, efficient hands, then pressed a smear of ash along his jaw, before picking out a light pair of black sneakers for him. “There. Now you look like someone I’d actually be scared of.”

“Thanks?” he muttered, but his ears burned red.

Sage crouched in front of me, fingers brushing over my knees before sliding a tactical harness into place. Her touch was clinical, but every time her hand skimmed too close to my thigh, my pulse spiked. She loaded mags into the pouches, clipped a comm to my ear, adjusted the mic. Then she paused, grabbed a compact of black grease, and smeared two thin lines under my eyes.

“Better,” she murmured. “Less soldier. More ghost.”

I huffed, “You enjoying yourself?”

“Immensely.” She tightened one last strap, leaned close enough that her breath tickled my ear. “Remember, you’re me tonight. Which means clean, silent, surgical. No Irish mob theatrics.”

Behind us, Naomi gave Liam’s ass another smack as she stepped back to admire her handiwork. “God, you look edible,” she purred.

“Why does yours sound like a threat and mine sounds like a recipe?” Liam complained.

“Because she likes you,” Sage quipped, tugging me to my feet.

But she wasn’t done.

She stepped past me, to the dresser, pulling open a drawer with that cool precision she had for everything. When she turned back, she was holding something small, black, gleaming under the overhead light. A mask. Matte carbon fiber, contoured to the face, with vent slits at the mouth and cheek panels angled sharp like a predator’s. She held it delicately, like it was priceless, and then, god help me, slid it over

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12:49 Mon, Oct 20

Dressing Down To Dress Up

my face. Adjusted the strap. Stroked her fingers across my jawline where the edge rested.

Her voice dropped, just for me. “Hot as sin,” she whispered, her lips brushing my ear. “And I want you wearing that to bed tonight.”

Heat bolted down my spine. My hands twitched, aching to grab her, to drag her close and make her repeat herself. But she’d already stepped back, all innocent smirk and smug satisfaction, like she hadn’t just set my blood on fire.

Naomi caught the look on my face and snorted. “Oh, he’s done for. Yours now.”

Sage’s smile sharpened. “Already was.”

“Do I get a cool mask?” Liam asked admiring mine with a hint of awe before looking at Naomi.

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Her eyes smarkled mischeviously. “Of course you do!” and then she pulled out a little mask from her pocket and Liam knelt so she could put it on. When he stood up I couldn’t help the laugh that split through me. He had a comical black mask over his eyes like some sort of bad super hero. He shot a look to the mirror and frowned.

“What the fuck? I said cool, not gay as hell. Where did you even get this?”

“I may have threatend Nico to help me get them delivered.” She smiled proudly. “I don’t usually wear one, but I figured it was best to cover up that handsome face a little bit.”

The girls stood back then, smug satisfaction radiating off them. Naomi crossed her arms. “Alright, muscle boys. We’ve decided the rules: you wear what we say, you run it how we say, and most importantly…” She tapped the comm snug in Liam’s ear. “We’re in your heads tonight. Every move, every breath, we’ll be there. Guiding. Correcting. Mocking.”

Liam groaned. “Pussy–whipped. Both of us.”

Sage only smiled, sly and dangerous. “No. Upgraded.”

And damned if I didn’t believe her.

Chapter Comments

Tanya Gordon

4 days ago

OMG they are hilarious 333

8